Jiro.
Lassim leaned forward slightly, his eyes' storms flickering with curiosity. It had been nearly two years since he last saw Jiro, back when he was still a servant-ranked disciple for his first month, struggling with the punishment of fighting against the guards after trespassing into the Lightning Tempering Fields.
He remembered him as a bit lazy, content to drift along with the bare minimum effort and that's precisely what he'd explained as having landed him in the demoted position of Sect Servant. But things had clearly changed. Jiro now stood among the sect's Personal Disciples, clad in the standard violet-and-gold martial attire, his posture steady, his presence noticeably stronger.