Inside the grand council hall of the ancient and imposing Blackstone Castle, the seat of power over the entire European continent, a battle between two of the strongest beings of this era was unfolding.
Alexander Corvinus shot toward Chen Mo in an instant, moving with terrifying speed. The longsword in his hand tore through the air with overwhelming force, thrusting straight for Chen Mo's chest.
The explosive power and blinding speed behind that strike made Andrew, Viktor, and the others watching turn pale.
Previously, the clash on the sailboat between Chen Mo and Alexander had ended too quickly for any of them to see Alexander's true strength. Only now did they realize—
The target Chen Mo had hunted for years was this powerful.
Facing Alexander Corvinus's unstoppable, lightning-fast thrust, Chen Mo's eyes blazed with light. His blood boiled, his mind clearer and more focused than ever.
This was what a real battle felt like.
Locking onto the incoming strike, Chen Mo shifted—legs and waist powering his movement—his upper body twisting left to parry, while shifting his weight right to slip out of the sword's trajectory.
His rotation carried through his shoulders and arms; power surged from his feet, up through his waist and back, layering and building through each part of his body until it peaked.
Chen Mo's sword carried that gathered force like thunder and wind, slamming sideways into Alexander's thrusting blade.
CLANG!
With a deafening crash of steel, Alexander Corvinus's seemingly unstoppable thrust was knocked aside.
By now, Alexander had already closed in. Before he could pull back and launch another attack, Chen Mo stepped forward. Borrowing the rebound of their previous clash, he swung horizontally from left to right toward Alexander's torso.
Alexander did not panic.
Continuing his forward movement, he twisted his body, withdrew his knocked-aside blade almost simultaneously with Chen Mo's counterattack, and managed—at the very last instant—to block Chen Mo's swing with the flat of his sword.
Clang! Sparks hissed and scattered.
Chen Mo's blade scraped along Alexander's sword, throwing off bright fire, but—unlike the past—it did not shear the weapon apart.
Both attacks were blocked.
Neither paused even for a heartbeat.
They clashed again.
In an instant, rapid and continuous sword strikes rang throughout the vast hall.
The two fighters darted and crossed paths at speeds so shocking that even the vampire knights—whose far superior vision surpassed any mortal's—couldn't fully follow their movements, let alone see the details of their swordplay.
At this moment, besides Chen Mo and Alexander Corvinus, Andrew, Viktor, Amelia, and dozens of vampire knights stood inside the hall.
Just as the battle reached its peak, when all eyes were fixed on the two combatants, a tiny figure—an eight- or nine-year-old golden-haired girl in an adorable princess dress—stumbled into the hall from an inner doorway.
Hearing the news that the knights had returned triumphant, she had rushed over, only to see her Lord and a white-haired, white-bearded stern man locked in a deadly duel.
Startled, she ran to hide behind Amelia, clutching her cloak and peeking her small head out cautiously.
Amelia had long noticed the soft footsteps behind her and couldn't help but smile. When the girl tugged her cloak and peeked out, Amelia gently rested her right hand on the small head pressed against her leg.
"Selene, watch carefully."
Amelia's eyes never left the battle.
Witnessing a clash between beings of this level was an invaluable experience for anyone—enough to benefit them for a lifetime.
The little girl, Selene, nodded softly.
Resting her cheek against Amelia's thigh, she stared unblinkingly at the fierce duel, her blue eyes filled with seriousness.
This was the same little girl Chen Mo had once saved from being trampled by a warhorse in the workshop—the granddaughter of Cain, the workshop overseer. Her father, Burt, had designed the dungeon where William was imprisoned.
After learning her name, Chen Mo had a suspicion.
And when he discovered that her father was a master of dungeon construction, he was nearly certain:
This cute little girl was the future heroine of Underworld—the vampire warrior Selene.
He remembered the movie's cold, dazzlingly beautiful female lead vividly.
What he never expected was that the future protagonist of this world, and her entire family, would all be living within his territory… and that her grandfather was a man he himself had appointed.
After confirming her identity, Chen Mo naturally paid more attention to the girl.
Once Marcus transformed all workshop workers into vampires, Chen Mo brought Selene to the castle, entrusted her to Amelia—the only female knight—to teach and mentor, and allowed her free access to both the workshop and the castle.
Amelia adored the beautiful, adorable girl. She kept Selene by her side, teaching her with care—treating her almost like a daughter.
Selene, in turn, worshipped Amelia, who was cold to everyone else but gentle toward her.
Though Amelia was strict when teaching swordsmanship, Selene still followed her everywhere.
They had no blood relation, yet were like true mother and daughter.
The knights of the castle all loved the innocent little Selene as well.
After slaying enemies outside, returning to the castle and seeing the lively girl instantly dispelled the bloodlust in their hearts.
With her around, the cold, solemn Blackstone Castle felt warm—alive.
With the Lord's special attention and the affection of Amelia and the knights, Selene became the castle's little princess.
No one dared bully her—and no one wished to.
Yet she did not become spoiled.
She remained gentle, innocent, and sweet.
Now, hiding behind Amelia, Selene watched the battle with wide, round eyes.
She had never seen such ferocity.
Compared to this, the knights' sparring matches were nothing.
Gazing at Chen Mo—black-robed, sword flashing like lightning—Selene's eyes filled with admiration.
She hadn't known her Lord was this strong.
As the fight continued, Chen Mo gradually came to understand Alexander Corvinus's true strength: about six times that of a normal human in both force and speed.
Roughly equal to Chen Mo physically, and far superior in skill and battle experience.
Only Chen Mo's sharper perception and faster reactions allowed him to keep up.
For a while, they were evenly matched, though Alexander held a slight edge.
But Chen Mo's learning ability was monstrous.
Amid the intense exchange, he rapidly absorbed Alexander's advanced techniques, internalized them, and made them his own.
The gap shrank quickly.
Soon they were dead even.
Then Alexander's ease turned to puzzlement… and gradually to shock, as he found himself beginning to be suppressed.
The longer the battle continued, the greater the pressure he felt from Chen Mo.
He had wondered earlier why this "god" was technically weaker than him with a sword.
Now he understood.
Perhaps gods never needed swordsmanship—lightning alone could annihilate enemies.
But once Chen Mo did pick up a sword, he instantly learned, improved, adapted—rapidly closing in on, then surpassing, the strongest swordsman of the age.
Alexander Corvinus no longer held any advantage.
Even after unleashing every ounce of skill honed through hundreds of years of battles, he could not reverse the tide.
Chen Mo's relentless attacks forced him back step by step, leaving him flustered and desperate.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
After a flurry of fierce clashes, Alexander finally faltered.
Chen Mo struck his sword from his hand.
In the same motion, Chen Mo's blade slid to the man's neck.
Staring at Chen Mo—whose sword radiated a razor-sharp aura—Alexander Corvinus showed no disappointment.
Instead, his face was filled with awe and shock.
Chen Mo's swordsmanship had grown to such terrifying heights in such a short time!