A runic formation was expertly woven into the coral, projecting a layered illusion.
To the untrained eye, there was nothing there. No entrance, no crack, not even a distortion.
But if one had sufficient knowledge of rune magic, the illusion would reveal its flaws, exposing a skillfully concealed passage beneath the roots of the giant coral tree.
Several hours after Wagner's soul transmigrated into Bartholomew's body, he was finally ready to leave this floating island.
With roughly an hour remaining until sunset, the sky had already been dyed a warm shade of orange. Light spilled across the horizon and bathed the ocean in a gentle glow.
The countless corals covering the island reflected the light in turn. The entire island seemed to come alive, bursting into a symphony of wondrous colors.
A thin figure dressed in oversized robes slowly stepped out of the concealed passage underneath the roots of the coral tree.
