All Chapters of The Blood Bound Legacy: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

The earth shuddered beneath their feet, not from tremors or tectonic shifts, but from something deeper, an unraveling of the boundary between what was and what should never be. Cracks split the horizon like veins pulsing with dark light, bleeding shades that had no name.Isolde tightened her grip on Cael’s hand. “Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice hoarse, the wind pulling at her coat like unseen hands.“I do,” he said, but his tone wasn’t confident. “It’s not just the world crumbling. It’s... waking up.”From above, the clouds churned unnaturally fast, spiraling around a point directly above the Watcher’s Citadel, the place they'd sworn never to return to. And yet here they were, drawn like threads back to the center of the curse.A shriek cut the air, not human, not animal, something worse. Cael looked toward the ridge.“They’re coming through,” he muttered. “Already.”The first of the wraithkind spilled through the fracture: spindly creatures, taller than men but thinner than s

The Architect reeled not backward, but inward, its form fracturing slightly, as if Isolde’s words struck something real within it. No voice came this time. Just a vibration in the air, angry and ancient.Cael stepped up beside her, his breath ragged. “You just told me you remember being a god.”She didn’t turn. “I didn’t say I was one. I said they put one inside me.”The older Isolde limped toward them, her expression unreadable. “The child never consented. That’s the part the Fold never accounted for.”Isolde kept her gaze on the Architect. “Why me? Why choose me to hold something you were too afraid to face yourselves?”The Architect’s mask shifted, forming an expressionless mouth that did not move, and yet a voice spilled forth like oil and broken glass. “Because innocence has the strongest walls. And the most cracks.”That truth punched the air out of her lungs.“You needed something pure to seal something corrupt,” she murmured.Cael’s voice was hoarse. “So you poisoned her soul

Cael sighed. “Can’t we get one chapter where we’re not the world’s lightning rod?”But Isolde’s focus had sharpened. “Then we find them first.”The woman closed her book. “Why?”“Because if they were changed, if they were touched by the Fold too, then they deserve to know they’re not alone.”“And if they don’t want peace?”Isolde looked back at the sky, where the crack had once been.“Then we remind them what it cost us to get here.”The words hung in the air longer than they should have, like they needed space to root themselves into the earth. Isolde didn’t speak again for a while, and neither did Cael or the woman. The wind passed through the valley like a sigh, as though the world itself had heard her vow and understood it wouldn’t be taken back.Cael rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on the horizon. “We’ve had a few victories, but not peace. Not really. If anything, I think we just rang a very loud bell and told everyone watching that power still lives here.”The woman nodded slo

They reached the gates at dusk.No doors. Just an archway, cracked and crooked, standing as if the stone had always waited for her to walk through it. No guards, no barriers. Just silence. The kind that wasn’t empty.but holding its breath.Isolde stood still at the threshold, one foot just over the edge. She stared at the arch and felt it staring back, even without eyes. She could feel the recognition of the stone, the air, the thin line between reality and whatever this place had become. They knew her, the way a scar knows the blade that made it.Cael waited behind her, not speaking, not urging. He understood the weight of moments like this. Sometimes the hardest step isn’t into danger—it’s into memory.She could still hear the voice from the Fold, echoing behind her eyes. “You were not chosen—you were fitted.”She had fought gods. Resisted the destruction of time and self. She had survived being a vessel. And yet the thought of what waited behind that arch chilled her more than the

When Isolde stepped out of the room, she was different. Not taller or stronger—but whole in a way she hadn’t been for years. The child’s presence remained—not beside her, but within. Like breath. Like pulse.Jalen watched her return with cautious wonder. “Which door?”“The one I never knew existed,” she said. “And the only one that matters.”He smiled faintly. “Then maybe you’re ready.”She looked at him. “Ready for what?”“For the door you didn’t open,” he said, pointing behind her.She turned and froze.A new door had appeared. One that hadn’t existed when she entered. And across its surface were seven mirrored faces. Each of them has hers. Each of them is smiling.The kind of smile that wasn’t about joy.These weren’t expressions of peace or nostalgia. They were masks, taunting, knowing, sharpened with teeth barely concealed behind lips that curved too perfectly. Each face on the door shimmered with a slightly different shade of her: one had eyes dark as obsidian, another wore bloo