The next moment, sweet White Mist enveloped the land.
Not only the Third Ring—even the Second Ring below was gradually shrouded in thick White Mist. The mist continued sinking and spreading, slowly descending into the First Ring and even reaching the surrounding oases.
The thirsty slaves and the injured or weakened people regained their vitality under the mist's nourishment. The air was no longer scorching hot. Instead, it became damp and clean, as comfortable as strolling through a garden after the rain.
By the time the White Mist dispersed, Iver's carriage had mysteriously vanished. Encyclopedia and his guards had disappeared along with it.
By then, the entire land had become damp, as though a torrential downpour had washed the whole city clean.
It was not the Abyss water summoned by the Good Lords, with its faint fishy odor like something soaked in corpses or flowing through soil... It was sweet nectar, as sweet as honey.
Combined with the Indigo King's prophecy from earlier, the people immediately realized what had happened.
The atmosphere instantly turned feverish. People knelt fanatically, kissing the thin pools of water that lay like shadows and sipping this unfamiliar, clear sweetness.
Ordinary people might not have noticed the problem.
But the Third Ring was filled with powerful figures who knew many secrets. They could better understand the difficulty behind this matter—
Only the First Source River possessed the authority of creation, just as Mist Demons, despite also requiring water, could create mist out of thin air.
Even the Good Lords could only summon from the Great Abyss bathing water that had soaked the Abyss Angel, because even an Abyss Angel could not create matter from nothing.
But as the new Angel who had inherited the Path of Love from the Blood Angel, the Mist Angel was precisely