My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me Chapter 223: Imperfect

Seamus groaned in frustration. He could not believe Bianca had interrupted them right when Leah was about to talk about her past with Isolde.

"Did sothing happen?" he called out.

"It’s still two days before Fleur arrives. Can’t you give us a little more ti to have fun?"

"Are you insane?" Bianca shouted back.

"Do you realize Leah’s screams can be heard all over the orphanage? How many kids do you think live here? Have so sha!"

She slamd the door harder this ti. "Get out, or I’ll drag both of you outside myself and throw you into the snow!"

"Co on, Bianca," Leah said lazily. "You know Seamus is going beyond the wall sooner or later, right?"

"Shut up, Leah! You’re more useful going with him than staying with anyway. Now get out."

"Oh well," Seamus said, turning back to Leah with a shrug. "Let’s continue our fun later, okay?"

Leah pouted but stayed sprawled on the bed.

"I’ll go out later. I need a bath first."

Bianca left without another word, only tossing one final order over her shoulder. "Go to the training hall."

Seamus sighed and headed for the bath. The warm water was a blessing after everything that had happened. His muscles loosened, and for the first ti in a while, his mind began to settle.

Maria’s words echoed in his thoughts. Mark Addam’s past. His agreent with Robert Latros long ago.

The fact that Mark’s body had never grown young even after becoming a so-called perfect human. That golden liquid did not restore youth. It only granted power similar to a vampire, along with an extended lifespan.

"It really is a perfect creation," Seamus muttered. "Just like what Corvane wanted. A perfect vampire."

Was it possible that Latros and Bjorne had already mastered it too, without any side effects? But Dylan said they still need him...

Mark’s power had been bound together by thousands of vampire souls, forming a living domain. The fact that Seamus had been able to breach it ant one thing.

Mark’s Sanguine Veins had a limit.

"So it wasn’t perfect after all," Seamus murmured. "He should have built sothing like Corvane’s. The crow cage."

Then another mory surfaced. Ben hands Mark Daniel’s spinal fluid, talking about creating clones just like the others in the lab.

"Was he a clone too?" Seamus whispered.

The thought unsettled him. He could still feel Mark’s presence trapped inside the Labyrinth of Dream.

The Labyrinth was not just a dream realm or a domain. It trapped the physical itself, forcing both humans and vampires to relive endless trauma.

Whatever Mark had watched. Whatever he had inflicted on others. All of it was tied to his own mories.

In Seamus’s mind, he saw it clearly. A boy fighting the vampires who killed his parents, failing again and again, trapped in the sa mistake forever.

If he were Mark, he would have hated vampires. Working with them would have been a stain on his pride.

And yet, Mark was different.

"I need to get him out of there," Seamus said quietly.

But first, Fleur needed to arrive. He had to be sure Mark’s body was not another clone, not another trap waiting to be triggered.

***

By the ti Seamus reached the training hall, it was already crowded. He sat on the podium, observing quietly, when Madeline suddenly appeared beside him, sitting as if she had always been there.

"What are you—"

"Just watch," Madeline interrupted, pointing toward the training floor.

It was a duel.

Dylan stood facing Bianca, swords drawn. Seamus’ eyes widened, he didn’t know how strong she could be, but there was no doubt about who should win.

Both of them stood still, staring each other down, the air between them tense and serious.

From where Seamus sat, the difference between them was obvious the mont steel t steel.

Bianca’s movents were relaxed, almost casual, but every step, every shift of her wrist, carried the weight of experience.

"As expected of Isolde’s subordinate." He murmured.

Dylan attacked first, fast and aggressive, but Seamus could already see the flaw. His timing was rushed, his montum committed too early, and Bianca responded without hesitation, her blade flashing toward Dylan’s neck in a clean, efficient arc.

Dylan barely pulled back in ti, the edge passing close enough that Seamus felt his own muscles tense in reflex.

Bianca pressed forward imdiately, cutting off any chance for recovery. Her strikes flowed together seamlessly, forcing Dylan into constant defense.

Each block landed heavy, the impact traveling through Dylan’s arms and into his shoulders, and Seamus knew Bianca was testing Dylan’s power of how much he improved.

It did not take long for Bianca to find the opening. A subtle twist of the wrist knocked Dylan’s sword aside, followed by a controlled strike to the ribs that sent him stumbling back.

Dylan hit the ground hard but pushed himself up again without hesitation.

"It’s not over, I still can fight!" Dylan’s voice could be heard all over the training hall.

"Fine, I will fight you until your limit." She sighed, "we need this for ’experint’ anyway."

The second exchange ended even faster. Bianca stepped in, read Dylan’s movent before it fully ford, and struck his leg with just enough force to drop him to one knee.

It should have been over then. Seamus expected Dylan to stay down.

Instead, Dylan stood again.

That was when Seamus leaned forward, his attention sharpening. Dylan changed the way he fought. He stopped rushing. His breathing steadied, his stance lowered, and when Bianca attacked again, Dylan did not imdiately react, he waited.

Their blades collided, and for the first ti, Dylan matched Bianca’s timing closely enough to matter.

He adjusted mid strike, copying angles, reacting not to the blade but to the movent behind it. It was clumsy compared to her, imperfect and inefficient, but it worked just enough to slow him down.

Bianca noticed imdiately. The tempo of the fight increased. Sparks flashed as steel t steel, and Dylan was still being pushed back, still clearly outclassed, but he was no longer being dismantled.

He redirected a strike over and over. Seamus saw Bianca shift her footing, forced to correct her position, and when she took a half step back, the entire training hall went silent of a sudden change in flow of fight.

Dylan lunged, feinted left, then twisted his blade at the last instant. Bianca blocked, but the force drove her back again, just barely.

The shock rippled through the crowd, because everyone understood what it ant.

Bianca ended it imdiately after that. Her blade slipped past Dylan’s guard and tapped his shoulder, clean and final, leaving no doubt about the outco.

Dylan lowered his sword, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face.

He had lost.

And yet, as Seamus sat there watching, he knew sothing changed. Dylan was faster and stronger than before and learning faster too.