All Chapters of Bloodbound: The legacy of Serelai : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

For one frozen heartbeat, nobody moved, they just stared at the thin, accusing line of daylight cutting through their dark sanctuary. It was so small. A hairline crack. But it was everything. It was the end of their safety. It was the world they had left behind, reaching in with a sharp, dirty fingernail.Then, chaos.“They’re through!” Ronan roared, his voice echoing in the tunnel. He lunged forward, his big hands pressing against the stone around the crack as if he could force it closed by sheer will.“It’s just a fissure,” Kael said, his voice tight and analytical, though his face was pale. “The structural integrity is still sound. But it’s a weakness. They will exploit it.”“How long?” Ashiel’s voice was hard, his body already angled between the crack and his family. The guardian was back, fully present. The heartbroken husband was shoved into a deep, dark corner. There was no room for him now.“Hours. Maybe less,” Kael replied, running his fingers along the crack, feeling its len

Valerius’s words hung in the air of the library, seeping through the cracks in the barricade like a poison gas. A shard of the spear. The weapon that had struck down the first Serelai. It wasn't just a tool; it was a symbol of their absolute annihilation. It was history itself, sharpened to a point and aimed at their hearts.For a long moment, no one moved. No one breathed. The only sound was Lyra’s small, frightened whimper as she pressed her face into Liora’s tunic.It was Ronan who broke the silence with a low, heartfelt curse. "Gods below. They have a piece of that? How? It was a story! A myth!.Fanatics are excellent archivists," Kael said, his voice thin and strained. He was leaning against a bookshelf, his face ashen. "They keep trophies of their greatest victories. They would have preserved a fragment, consecrated it, worshipped it as proof of their god's supremacy. I had heard rumors... but I never believed they would actually bring it here. It's too precious to them.""What

Stepping through the silver doorway was like stepping into a song.There was no tunnel, no stone floor, no ceiling. There was only light and sound. They stood on a path of shimmering, opalescent energy that stretched out before them into a soft, glowing mist. The air itself hummed, a deep, chordal vibration that resonated in their bones. It was the mountain’s true voice, the constant, low song that Lyra had always heard, now made visible and tangible.Lyra gasped, her fear forgotten, her face filled with wonder. “It’s so loud!” she whispered, but her whisper was absorbed into the gentle symphony around them.“Where… where are we?” Ronan asked, his voice hushed with awe. He carefully shifted his weight, but the path felt solid beneath his feet, despite its translucent appearance.“We are between,” Kael said, his eyes wide as he tried to take in the impossible landscape. “Between the stone, between the moments. This is a path woven from memory itself. Look.”He pointed. Floating in the

The world did not end when Ashiel vanished. It kept turning. The green light of the Genesis Seed pulsed steadily and strongly. The mountain’s hum was a gentle, living thing around them. The air was clean. The enemy was broken.And none of it mattered.Liora knelt on the cold stone, her hand pressed against the empty space where he had been. The memory of his love was a physical weight in her chest, so immense and so real it felt like it would crack her ribs. She could smell the rain from the Temple of Ashen Glass. She could feel the warmth of his blood on her palm. She could hear the echo of his Oath, a vow that had outlasted the stars.He was more real to her in that moment than he had been in weeks. And he was gone.The others were frozen, caught between the awe of the mountain’s healing and the horror of its cost. Ronan had sunk to his knees, his big hands hanging limp at his sides. Elara had her face buried in his shoulder, her body shaking with silent sobs. Kael stood rigid, his

The days began to find their own rhythm, like a heart learning to beat again after being still for too long. The pain did not leave Liora, it had moved in, taken a room in the house of her soul, and become a permanent resident, but it was no longer the screaming, tearing thing it had been. Now, it was a quiet companion, a weight she had learned to carry.She found herself doing ordinary things. She would grind herbs for tea, the rhythmic scrape of the pestle a meditation. She would mend a tear in Lyra’s tunic, her fingers remembering the motions her mind was too tired to guide. She would walk the halls, not to run from memories, but to simply be in them. She would pause by the spot where Ashiel used to practice with his sword, and instead of collapsing, she would just breathe, letting the image of him, sweaty and focused, live in her mind for a moment before she moved on.This, she realized, was a form of balance, too. It was the balance between drowning in the past and trying to eras