On an island spanning only a single mile made of dusky dawn-colored sand with a few beige banana trees and coconut trees littered across the sandy surface. The odd island exuded a distinctly peculiar aura that was hard to pinpoint, yet oddly felt strangely demonic in origin.
Upon this island, at its sandy edge, was a young man with a head of fiery red hair sat cross-legged with bare feet, his gaze focused on the rising pillar of light in the far-off distance. Shui Fengbao murmured indistinguishably to himself in a soft voice. The Child of Fire's aura had made great changes recently. The light in his eyes was extremely fresh. It contains the essence of time and vestiges of its influence.