"Which sect are they from?"
Li Zhexian voiced the question on everyone's mind.
Dugu Yan and the others all shook their heads in confusion.
Ye Lingling parted her red lips slightly and said,
"If I'm not mistaken…"
"They should be from Wind Sword Sect."
"Wind Sword Sect?"
At the mention of the name, Dugu Yan and the others suddenly understood.
Yu Feng exclaimed in surprise, "One of the Lower Four Sects? That Wind Sword Sect?!"
Osler chimed in:
"I've heard their sect has its own legacy."
"All its disciples have sword-type Martial Souls, but unlike Sword Douluo, they don't follow the path of 'one sword to break all laws.'"
"Wind Sword Sect specializes in sword formations. When disciples act in unison, their power is formidable."
Li Zhexian's eyes gleamed.
As a sword cultivator, anything related to "sword" immediately caught his attention.
Wind Sword Sect…
A background faction barely mentioned in the original novel—just a few throwaway lines.
Yet seeing them today—
They seemed to have real substance.
Indeed, this world's boundless wonder could only be understood by experiencing it firsthand.
By stepping off the rails of the established storyline—
How many other strange and hidden elements did Douluo Continent still conceal?
"Interesting…"
Li Zhexian murmured to himself.
Seeing that Li Zhexian was clearly intrigued by Wind Sword Sect, Ye Lingling thought for a moment and continued:
"Speaking of Wind Sword Sect…"
"Their Sect Master, Feng Bailong, is an eighty-ninth rank Spirit Douluo. He often compares himself to Sword Douluo and even claims to be the second person under heaven in the way of the sword."
"He once said: 'Sword Douluo may be the top Attack-Type Douluo, but I am the number one Attack-Type Spirit Douluo. If I had a hundred disciples forming a sword formation, I can even defeat a Titled Douluo.'"
Li Zhexian's lips curled in a faint smile.
"And how do you know so much about Wind Sword Sect?"
That smile was a little dazzling. Ye Lingling unconsciously lowered her gaze.
"My mother…"
"She once hoped that Feng Bailong could defeat Sword Douluo."
"Yes, it wasn't made public, but Feng Bailong did go to him."
Her words made the entire group fall silent.
Feng Bailong, who claimed to be second only to Sword Douluo in swordsmanship, had secretly challenged Chen Xin?
"What was the result?" Li Zhexian asked immediately.
Ye Lingling's deep blue eyes blinked once.
"From that day on… Feng Bailong's sword never left its sheath again."
"Damn," Yufeng sucked in a breath.
"So Sword Douluo sealed his sword?"
Even the usually silent Shi brothers couldn't help but mutter in their deep voices,
"As expected of Sword Douluo!"
Ye Lingling added:
"But Feng Bailong doesn't admit it that way."
"He says he's 'nurturing his sword.' He covers his eyes with black silk, claiming to listen to the sword's cry."
"He also said: 'The day I draw my sword again, even Sword Douluo will be forced to acknowledge me.'"
"But my mother said bluntly—Feng Bailong is too cautious and values his life too much. He'll never catch up to Sword Douluo."
Dugu Yan curled her lips.
"So, the whole blindfolded thing became the Wind Sword Sect's trademark?"
"Mhm." Ye Lingling nodded.
"Interesting."
Li Zhexian's gaze swept toward the group of green-robed, sword-bearing disciples in the distance, the intrigue in his eyes growing stronger.
In the Star Dou Forest, when Spirit Masters crossed paths, unless they were old acquaintances, the unspoken rule was to go their separate ways—
To avoid unnecessary conflict over rare herbs or target Spirit Beasts.
"We'll head this way."
Li Zhexian pointed in the opposite direction.
The others agreed, and the seven figures once again disappeared into the dense forest, searching for traces of the Blood-Toothed Demonic Tiger.
—
However…
Things rarely go according to plan.
Roughly half an hour later—
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
The wind howled, its sharpness stinging like blades.
The very same black-cloth blindfolded swordsmen from earlier—
Crossed paths with Li Zhexian's group again.
Only a dense thicket of underbrush, barely ten meters wide, separated the two groups.
The air went still—
So silent you could hear a pin drop.
In that tense silence—
The disciples of Wind Sword Sect suddenly parted to both sides like waves, opening up a path.
From the center, a handsome young man in matching green robes, adorned with cloud patterns on his sleeves and hems, walked out slowly.
Facing a row of trees, he cupped his hands and laughed heartily:
"I am Feng Buyu, Young Sect Master of Wind Sword Sect."
"Might I ask where you friends hail from?"
Li Zhexian's party all blinked in surprise.
Who is he even talking to?
"Ahem…"
An elderly man in green robes with white hair and youthful features quickly leaned in and whispered,
"Buyu, wrong direction—it's to your left."
The young man immediately pulled off the black cloth with an annoyed yank.
"Who switched mine with a real one again?!"
The absurd scene made the corners of Li Zhexian's mouth twitch.
They hadn't noticed from afar—
But up close, they saw clearly:
The black cloths covering the Wind Sword Sect disciples' eyes were all made of mesh.
They could see through them—practically useless.
What the hell is this? A fantasy version of sunglasses?
Li Zhexian chuckled inwardly.
"Wind Sword Sect really raised a whole batch of theatrical show-offs!"
Suppressing his internal roast, Li Zhexian stepped forward, cupped his hands, and smiled politely:
"Li Zhexian, a free Spirit Master. My companions and I came from Heaven Dou City."
"Heaven Dou? A fine city indeed…"
Feng Buyu returned the gesture.
He didn't spare a glance at the beautiful Dugu Yan or Ye Lingling.
As for Yu Feng, Osler, or the Shi brothers—not even a flicker of attention.
His gaze was fixed solely on Li Zhexian.
Those clear eyes seemed to light up in the dim forest.
"Brother Zhexian, your bearing is like a sword—your eyes shine with sharpness. Could it be… you walk the path of the sword?"
His tone was filled with excitement.
Li Zhexian nodded.
"Correct."
"Excellent! Wonderful!"
Feng Buyu clapped his hands in joy and reached for the antique hilt on his back.
"Brother Zhexian, it is fate that we've met. Why don't we—"
"Buyu."
The green-robed elder interrupted with a serious tone.
"Don't forget the mission."
Feng Buyu froze mid-motion, clicking his tongue in regret.
"Fine, fine… Brother Zhexian, I'll take my leave for now!"
"When fate brings us together again, we must find a secluded place, sit facing each other, and discuss the path of the sword!"
"Farewell!"
He retied the black cloth over his eyes.
The Wind Sword Sect disciples flickered—
Like a swift wind tearing through the forest, vanishing without a trace in seconds.
From appearance to disappearance—
The whole encounter lasted no more than a cup of tea's time.
Yet from the way he spoke, Feng Buyu already considered Li Zhexian a kindred spirit worthy of discussing swordsmanship.
"…Does this guy have a screw loose?" Yu Feng stared, stunned.
"Way too familiar for someone we just met!"
Li Zhexian chuckled and shook his head.
"An interesting fellow."
But a question lingered in his mind—
With such a clear and pure sword heart, why was Feng Buyu never mentioned in the original story?
Then it hit him.
Wind Sword Sect relied on sword formations—
They needed disciples to act in concert to fully unleash their power.
But the original plot, starting from the Spirit Master Tournament, focused heavily on individual power scaling among the protagonist group.
How could Feng Buyu ever keep pace with the Shrek Seven Monsters?
Thinking of this—
Li Zhexian found himself in an unexpectedly good mood.
Because he knew the original story so well, so much had already been laid bare—
Some of the novelty was gone.
Now, encountering the unexpected Wind Sword Sect and Feng Buyu—
It brought back that feeling of "searching high and low, only to find it in the most unexpected place."
—
The wind howled through the trees.
Feng Buyu's voice carried excitement:
"Uncle Master, did you feel it?"
"That Brother Zhexian's sword is so sharp!"
The green-robed elder wore a solemn expression.
"Yes. "Indeed. Its edge was concealed, yet even the faintest trace of it pressed against the mind like a blade."
"If he were to draw it… it's hard to imagine."
Feng Buyu pressed further:
"Uncle Master, if I led the Wind-Thunder Sword Formation—"
"How many disciples would it take to suppress Brother Zhexian?"
The elder pondered for a moment before replying:
"About five. That's likely the limit."
Then, his tone turned stern:
"We'll discuss this later."
"The Blood-Toothed Demonic Tiger's territory is near—everyone, stay sharp!"