Ezra sat in his cell, melancholic.
Unchained, he could simply walk out of the cell.
But the Emperor warned him against it, and since he was near powerless, Ezra stayed put.
He could hear the guards gossiping about him from time to time.
As expected, they weren't saying nice things. Then again, he was a demon.
Demons were the archenemies of humans, collectively hated. Which was why anything regarding demons was hot cake, handled by every power.
Coming from a different space, demons only seeked to rape, pillage and kill.
All these made Ezra's case delicate and complicated.
With the possibility of death greater than ever, Ezra found him losing interest in most things.
His strength had failed him, his meridians were shattered, rendering cultivation, even mana stones largely ineffective and he wasn't at all keen to practising his weaponry.
Even if he was, there were no weapons in sight and he didn't want them taking notice of his space ring.
