Riley stood up and retrieved a fresh set of clothes from the nearby cabinet.
As always, he chose his familiar black robes, ignoring the official sect uniform folded neatly beside them.
The standard garb, with its ornate insignia and bright colors, felt too loud—too declaring—for someone like him.
His usual attire was plain, but it fit him perfectly, both in style and spirit.
Blending in was part of the plan.
Until he deemed himself strong enough to face the world without hesitation, it was better to remain low-key—unseen, unnoticed.
There was no need to draw attention before he was ready to rise.
"Based on my understanding of this world's cultivation system... I should be in the Essence Soul Reflection realm by now—or at the very least, my strength should rival cultivators at that level," Riley mused.
He went out of the room and was now standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the mist-shrouded valley beneath the sect grounds.
