From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 94: The One Who Answered

The initial warmth of the illusion faded, like steam from a cooling meat bun.

Lucian stood now, one foot inside the fragile memory while one hand was curled tightly around the Loom’s case. He couldn’t use it to weave anything, but it was an excellent grounding tool.

Across from him, Auren Valier remained seated at the head of the long table, the ghostly warmth of bread and cider faded into the air. The table was still set and the candles still flickered, but none of it mattered.

Only the antlered man did.

Lucian took a breath. "You created this place. This version of it."

Auren looked up slowly, like he was waking from a nap he hadn’t meant to take. "I did what was right for them," he said.

His voice was quiet but rooted.

"The people of Vel Quen deserved peace. A clean ending. Not the suffering your kind calls closure."

Alice glanced around at the illusion. "So you gave them this instead?"

Auren’s eyes dimmed like cooling embers.

"They asked me to hold their grief. All of them. Every thread. Every farewell never spoken."

He pressed a hand to his chest. "I kept them safe."

Lucian’s voice tightened. "Then why did you send for me?"

The corner of Auren’s mouth twitched. Like he wanted to snarl. Instead, he took a deep breath and smiled.

Lucian could feel the venom dripping off of him.

"You really should have answered sooner."

There was an echo beneath that sentence.

Something colder. Like it wasn’t the first time they’d spoken.

Lucian narrowed his eyes."You called for me before?"

Auren rose from his seat, the motion so fluid it felt like mist rearranging itself. He stepped toward the false hearth and gestured to the fire. It still burnt steadily, even though the air had grown stagnant.

"I called for a mortician. A true one. Someone who could untangle what was left. You didn’t answer."

He turned, his antlers brushing the rafters. Flower petals fell from the antlers and withered as they hit the ground.

"So the Spymaster gave me something else instead."

Lucian flinched. "The Spymaster?"His blood chilled."You mean he sent you?"

Auren’s lips parted. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Lucian pushed forward. "The stranger with the cart—was he—?"

"Do you think that was a real person?" Auren said softly.

Lucian faltered.

Because the truth was, he didn’t know.

Not anymore.

Auren didn’t say anything else. The fire continued to crackle. They still had food on the table but it was all memory now. Too perfect. And when Lucian cut into it, the food tasted like nothing.

"You...y-you didn’t fix anything!" Alice cried, her voice shaking. "You froze everyone--trapped them!"

"I held them where they could rest," Auren said sharply. "So they wouldn’t tear themselves apart. So the weave wouldn’t come undone!"

"And what gave you the right?" Lucian demanded. "To choose that for everyone?"

Silence.

Auren tilted his head. "You’re a mortician. Isn’t that your whole purpose?"

Lucian opened his mouth to argue——but stopped.

Alice stepped closer. "Morticians listen. They don’t seal. They don’t force. They’re stewards."

Auren turned his full attention to her now. The temperature in the room shifted, like some invisible pressure had grown heavier.

"You know nothing of what they asked me to carry."

"You didn’t carry it," Alice said, trembling but firm. "You buried it alive."

Auren flinched. Not visibly—but the lights dimmed, and the antlers on his crown creaked softly, like they reacted to pain.

+

He took a long, measured breath."There were riots in the lower rings. The veil had thinned. Children were being born remembering their past deaths. We had no help. The capital did nothing. So the Crown sent... him."

Lucian’s voice was quiet now. "The Spymaster."

Auren nodded once."He offered a solution. He always offers a solution. He gave me power, and a charge. ’Hold them,’ he said. ’You’re trusted. Loved. A civic symbol.’ And I... believed him."

Alice’s fingers touched Lucian’s sleeve."I think he meant well," she whispered.

Lucian clenched his jaw. "He turned a city into a graveyard."

"I made a promise," Auren corrected. "To every grieving soul in this spiral: no more loss. Not while I stood guard." He looked down at his hands. "But the grief didn’t vanish. It calcified. And now... now it festers beneath everything."

Lucian stepped forward, his voice hollow."I’m sorry."

Auren looked up. And for the first time, there was no anger in his expression—just bone-deep exhaustion.

+

"You came too late," Auren whispered. "They’re all here, mortician. Waiting. Wanting to be remembered—but also terrified of what remembering will cost them."

He reached out toward Lucian’s Grimoire.

Auren turned from them, his expression distant. Without a word, he extended his hand toward the far wall.

It peeled back like paper.

Behind it was a small chamber—no larger than a study. But inside, glowing faintly in the stillness, were dozens of floating threads. Each shimmered a different color. Some pulsed faintly, others frayed and flickering.

Lucian stepped forward, heart thudding.

"They’re not gone," Auren said softly. "They’re suspended."

Alice’s breath caught. "These are... the last thoughts of the townspeople."

Auren nodded. "The ones who couldn’t move on. I pulled them from their Grief Threads before they unraveled. Their stories... are still in here."

Lucian’s hands ached. The Loom pulsed."I could release them," he whispered.

"You could," Auren agreed. "But you’d tear the spiral apart. They’re woven into it now. Their pain is the foundation of the seal."

Lucian stared at the threads. One looked like it was singing without sound—oscillating gently, glowing faintly lavender. Another looked like a flame forever frozen in time.

"These are echoes," Alice whispered, "without voices."

"They had voices once," Auren said bitterly. "But no one listened. Not the Queen. Not the Crown. Not the gods."

He looked directly at Lucian.

"That’s why I needed a mortician. One who could grieve with them. One who could speak their names."

Lucian raised a hand toward a golden thread trembling with untold weight—

And that was when the floor split open.

+

A sudden boom thundered through the dining room. The chandelier above swayed. The fire died in an instant.

Another crack—beneath the table.

Lucian backed away just as the floor exploded upward.

Shards of illusion burst apart like glass and porcelain. A great wind howled through the now-exposed hall, and the table was lifted like driftwood.

A figure rose from the wreckage.Her armor gleamed dully beneath a century of dust and dried blood.

Her silver bannerpole was planted like a spear into the ground.

She stood tall.

Broken.

Whole.

Voice cracking:

"You’re not holding them anymore."

Auren staggered back.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

The woman’s eyes blazed with Oathfire. Her voice rang like a bell that had never stopped tolling.

"I am Oath-Tender of the Fifth Coil."

"And I remember what you did."