Lassim left the servants' residence, the pervasive darkness of the ever-present thunderstorm casting eerie shadows across the sect's grounds.
As he walked through the sect and retraced his steps towards the entrance, he recalled the direction to the Tempering Fields, the place he had passed through when he arrived.
It was a bit of a distance away as he had followed the Sect Master on foot, but his sharp mind and excellent enhanced memory remembered the general direction.
Dressed in his servant martial robes, Lassim noticed the mixed reactions from the other disciples as he walked. Most ignored him, their expressions indifferent or mildly curious.
A few, recognizing his high cultivation level despite the servant garb, looked at him with a mix of pity and speculation. They wondered what transgression had led a peak Spirit Transformation cultivator to such a menial role for punishment but chose not to approach him or make a comment.
