Chen Mo's rate of improvement was terrifying.
Alexander Corvinus had felt it himself—the monumental changes in Chen Mo's swordsmanship throughout their battle. In such a short time, the growth in Chen Mo's skill surpassed what he himself had accumulated over centuries.
Slowly withdrawing the blade resting against Alexander Corvinus's neck, Chen Mo felt deeply satisfied with the gains from this fight.
This was, without doubt, the greatest leap his combat technique had ever taken.
To be fair, Alexander Corvinus had not wasted his centuries of life.
In dealing with the destruction caused by his son William, he had spent hundreds of years fighting Lycans.
The number of werewolves slain by his sword was beyond counting.
Through countless fierce battles with powerful Lycans, Alexander's swordsmanship had continuously evolved.
His techniques, refined through the ages, had grown increasingly lethal—simple, direct, savage, ruthless.
A single strike was often enough to end the life of a Lycan.
This was unlike the Holy Cross Swordsmanship developed among ordinary human knights—wide, forceful arcs meant for mortal combatants.
Even after Chen Mo's improvements, it could not compare to the sword arts Alexander had forged in battles against monstrous Lycans.
Alexander's swordsmanship was crafted by a superhuman and meant to confront superhuman enemies.
Naturally, it suited Chen Mo far better than human techniques ever could, allowing him to bring out his full strength.
Thus, throughout their duel, Chen Mo constantly absorbed and learned from Alexander's skills, merging them with his own techniques.
After all, the techniques he had originally learned had their own merits.
He wouldn't discard them entirely and simply copy Alexander—that would be putting the cart before the horse.
True mastery is born from battle—learning, improving, merging, refining.
No single person's technique can ever be perfect.
Every sword art has gaps and flaws; none can encompass everything.
Only by gathering strengths from all sources, compensating for weaknesses, and adapting them to oneself can one eventually forge the strongest swordsmanship suited to one's own path.
And now, Chen Mo felt he had taken a massive step toward that goal.
…
After the duel, Chen Mo did not mistreat the centuries-old elder.
He did not shackle him or throw him into a dungeon; instead, he arranged a room beside his own and treated him like an honored guest.
In truth, keeping Alexander Corvinus at his side was safer than locking him in a cell.
With his strength, ordinary chains couldn't hold him, and dozens of vampire knights were no match for him.
Only Chen Mo could suppress him.
But Chen Mo hadn't spent years searching for him just to offer hospitality.
Alexander knew that.
So he cooperated, calmly allowing Chen Mo to draw several vials of his blood.
Afterward, Chen Mo called Andrew to the study to begin the first round of testing.
Andrew obeyed without hesitation.
After drinking a single drop of Perfect Blood, he felt something change—but couldn't describe it.
When he reported his sensations, Chen Mo examined his skin carefully.
It seemed less pale than before.
Thinking for a moment, he led Andrew to the curtains.
Aside from Chen Mo's own rooms, nearly every window in the castle was boarded up during the day to prevent sunlight from harming the vampire inhabitants.
Candles and lamps lit the halls at all hours.
Only Chen Mo's frequented chambers had no wooden boards—just thick curtains that blocked the sun entirely.
When no other vampires were present, Chen Mo enjoyed the warmth and brilliance of sunlight alone.
Standing by the curtains, Chen Mo pulled them open slightly.
A thin beam of golden sunlight streamed into the dim, cold study, bringing a trace of warmth.
"Put your hand in the light."
Andrew did not hesitate.
Although he knew sunlight would burn him and cause intense pain, he would never disobey Chen Mo's command.
He stepped forward, lifted his right hand, and slowly extended it into the beam of sunlight.
Yet when the light touched his skin—
the pain he had prepared himself for never came.
Instead, a long-lost warmth flowed over him.
A simple sensation, yet one he had not felt in years.
"My lord! This…?"
Andrew turned his hand in the sunlight again and again, astonished to find nothing wrong.
He looked at Chen Mo in disbelief.
"Alexander Corvinus's blood allows you to escape your fear of sunlight."
Chen Mo did not hide the truth of the Perfect Blood.
The result pleased him greatly—
Just one drop granted a vampire immunity to sunlight.
From now on, they no longer needed to hide beneath heavy, suffocating armor.
They could walk beneath the sun like ordinary people.
Little Selene would no longer be trapped in the castle all day.
She could finally run outside again—she had been restless for weeks.
Since her transformation, she had been forbidden to go out.
Even returning to the workshop required passing through a secret tunnel connecting it to the castle.
Only at night was she allowed to play briefly in the square outside.
She had not seen blue skies, green grass, or the bright warm sun in a long time.
She longed for sunlight, to run freely among flowers and fields, to roll on the grass, splash through streams, and rest under the shade of trees.
No one understood her longing more than Andrew and the knights who often watched over her.
"Little Selene will be thrilled," Andrew said with a smile.
After discovering he could withstand sunlight, she was the first person he thought of.
As for himself, he didn't particularly care.
He had lived decades under the sun before becoming a knight and was used to his armor now.
But having one less fatal weakness was always welcome.
To move freely beneath the sun—who wouldn't prefer that over hiding in darkness?
"Amelia will be very happy too," Chen Mo said with amusement.
Andrew flushed instantly, scratching his head in embarrassment.
Indeed—
From now on, during the day, they wouldn't have two sets of armor between them.
They could look directly at each other, hold hands, and walk under the sun together.
He was already delighted—
and a bit annoyed he hadn't thought of that earlier.
If Amelia heard this, she would certainly call him an idiot again.
Seeing Andrew's eyes overflowing with affection for Amelia, Chen Mo felt a twinge of guilt.
Years of war had delayed their marriage.
It was time to make it right.
Thinking of this, he glanced toward the study door and smiled.
"Amelia."
His sudden voice startled Andrew, who quickly turned toward the closed door.
From outside came hurried footsteps.
The door opened, and Amelia entered with her head lowered.
"My lord…"
When Chen Mo had called Andrew into the study, Amelia had overheard.
Uneasy, she had followed quietly.
Because the matter was critical, Chen Mo had not placed guards outside; instead, he monitored the surroundings with his own senses—far more reliable than any guard.
Even without guards, Amelia had not approached the door.
She waited anxiously in the hallway.
Chen Mo appreciated this very much.
Regardless of reason, eavesdropping on him was unacceptable—and Amelia had not done so.
Andrew looked at her nervously.
He hadn't expected her to be outside, and worried she might be punished.
But Chen Mo simply said,
"Go fetch a cup of blood."
"Yes!"
Still tense, Amelia obeyed immediately and left.
Andrew stared in confusion—not sure what Chen Mo intended.
Because vampires could not eat regular food and survived only on blood, Chen Mo had built a livestock farm to raise cattle and sheep for the knights.
And now, Chen Mo had one more hypothesis about the Perfect Blood he needed to test.