After learning that the black mist could not be recreated, Alshanjo seemed to be shrouded in shadow, dim and drained of color.
Kuntela wanted to offer a few words of comfort, but truly could not bring itself to speak... After all, it had never tasted contaminated Blue Duke Wine. Who knew what it tasted like? Even if it really was delicious, the thought of that foul black mist spreading everywhere instantly killed Kuntela's interest.
It could not empathize, could not understand, and could not offer comfort.
However, Angel—the instigator behind it all—had regained his confidence in food, and thus found Alshanjo much more pleasing to the eye. Seeing him despondent over being unable to drink the fine wine he had "blended" himself, Angel pondered carefully for a moment before coming up with a solution.
"Although I can't recreate it with the Mystic Ritual Box, the water near the Rock Hall also has a slight conta..." Angel had originally wanted to say "contamination," but after thinking about it, he felt he should change his wording. "What I mean is, the nearby water has also been tainted. And water is alive; even if it isn't cleaned up, it will settle away before long."
Alshanjo had still been somewhat listless, but upon hearing Angel's words, his unfocused eyes gradually sharpened. Then he abruptly rose to his feet. "You're right. It can dissolve into water! And there's no need to look outside—there's a fountain next door!"
Angel coughed and raised a hand. "...I already cleaned the fountain. There's nothing left there."
Alshanjo rode a Crystal Book page out of the hall to search for water that had been "contaminated."
Kuntela had originally wanted to remain in the great hall, but when it saw the unmistakably dismissive look in Laplace's eyes, it hesitated before