Out on the open sea, the cold, heavy rain was already pouring down.
WHOO-WHOO-WHOO...
The Phantom Warhorse carried Byron along the ship's exterior, galloping furiously.
Even through a layer of black osseous armor, he could clearly feel the howling wind sweeping across his cheeks.
The storm that had been brewing in the high skies for a long time now seemed like a massive demon, unleashing its divine might upon the sea with reckless abandon.
Even though he didn't gain any extra transcendent abilities aside from those casual bursts of azure flames, Byron's own abilities had been comprehensively amplified—strength, speed, perception, Spirituality... He felt as if he could do anything at this moment.
Of course, he was very aware that this was just an illusion from power surging temporarily.
