The prison cell was a nightmare in itself.
Twisted, gnarled tree roots snaked through every crevice, their sinister tendrils creeping along the walls, further enhancing the stifling, damp atmosphere.
The place reeked of decay and hopelessness. It was no surprise that Ezio seemed so defeated, this environment was the antithesis of cultivation.
Jared stood at the threshold of the cell, and immediately, he could feel the oppressive atmosphere. He couldn't sense any trace of spiritual energy in the air.
Worse still, there was an unsettling, almost invisible force pulling at his own energy. It was as if the very prison itself was leeching away his spiritual power, and the longer he stayed, the weaker he felt.
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