From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 95: The Oath-Tender

The heavy dining table lay in pieces. Illusion cracked like ice beneath weight it could no longer bear. The carefully curated dishes disappeared and revealed a clean table with a yellowed tablecloth.

And standing amidst the splinters, framed by the dying remnants of a dream, was a woman clad in cracked armor and thread-wrapped oaths.

She removed her helmet and he saw her curly red hair and violet eyes. Her tabard, though torn, bore the crest of Vel Quen: a spiral tower wreathed in lilies. Her eyes blazed—not with hatred, but conviction forged in grief. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"You’re not holding them anymore," she said again, planting her banner-pole into the stone floor. "Your sanctuary ends here, Keeper."

Auren didn’t speak.

His antlers had dimmed.

Lucian instinctively stepped in front of Alice, gripping the Loom’s case. The Grimoire fluttered, then stilled—pages frozen at a glyph it didn’t recognize.

[CODEX UPDATE: Profile Added]

Name: ?????

Title: The Paladin of Vel Quen

Note: Difficult to determine the exact year of her birth.

Difficult? She must be older than the Grimoire.

The woman’s gaze swept over them—lingering only a moment on Lucian, and longer still on Alice.

"You’re not from the city," she said. "That’s good. It means you might be able to do what I couldn’t."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

Her voice was raw. "I was the Oath-Tender of the Fifth Coil. Guardian of the Spiral’s Deep. I buried a thousand dead, but never let grief go unanswered."

"And now?" Alice asked.

She lowered her banner. "Now I dig my way back to the surface and tear down the man who locked us in a cage made of kindness."

Lucian turned toward Auren.

The antlered man didn’t look angry.

He looked... relieved.

"You made it out," Auren said softly. "After all this time."

"You left me," she spat.

"No," Auren replied. "I sealed you. You would’ve died in the collapse otherwise."

"You should have trusted me to make that choice myself," she snapped.

That silenced him.

Lucian stepped forward cautiously. "You expect us to just believe you?"

Her eyes flicked toward him. "No. I expect you to look around and decide for yourself."

+

She gestured toward the crumbling illusion still curling along the rafters. "Is this peace to you? A city with no breath? A table that sets itself?"

Lucian frowned. The smell of bread was still present, despite the shattered walls. The candelabras flickered in perfect synchrony.

The table had collapsed... but the illusion refused to vanish completely.

"I’ve been trapped in memory," she said. "With only the weight of my vow to keep me sane. Every day, it restarted. The people, the streets, the music—everything just a little off. They were in denial--all desperate to feel joy."

A shiver ran down Lucian’s spine.

Because he understood that.

That was how it had felt. Too perfect. Too clean.

Alice took a step closer. "If that’s true, then why didn’t you break it sooner?"

"I wasn’t strong enough," she said. "Until now."

Lucian studied her—watchful, skeptical. The Grimoire stayed quiet, but the Loom thrummed faintly, as if attuned to her pulse.

"I don’t trust anyone who comes up swinging," he said. "You’re angry. That doesn’t make you right."

She gave a tired smile. "It doesn’t. But ask yourself this—has he told you what the Spiral is?"

Lucian looked toward Auren.

The antlered man sighed.

"No," Auren said. "Because the Spiral is unfinished. And if they knew what rested at its center, they wouldn’t call it a sanctuary."

+

The Oath-Tender’s voice dropped to a murmur."Vel Quen wasn’t built to live. It was built to end well. To ease the transition from life to death. The Queen of Thread sanctioned it as a sacred hospice-city."

Lucian’s breath caught.

He looked at Alice.

Alice, whose flower-pin still shimmered with the Guide’s mark.

"A hospice?" she whispered.

"A holy resting place," the Oath-Tender confirmed. "The Spiral was never meant to grow as large as it did. But it worked. For a time."

Lucian shook his head. "Then what went wrong?"

They both answered at once.

"The grief got too big."

Lucian was quiet for a long moment.

+

"If you’re right, and Auren sealed the Spiral... then why did the Spymaster give him the means to do it?"

Auren spoke now—quietly, like someone remembering a truth they once wished to forget.

"Because the Crown wanted a controlled collapse. One that wouldn’t spread. The Spymaster thought Vel Quen was a test. A controlled failure. And I—"

Auren paused, weighing his words.

"I agreed. Because I believed I could preserve something from it. Keep the rest of the realm from unraveling."

"But what you preserved," the Oath-Tender cut in, "wasn’t peace. It was silence."

Auren didn’t argue.

Lucian stared at the two of them.

Two ghosts with the same wound, speaking different languages.

And him, standing in between.

"Merry was right," he murmured. "This town doesn’t need a weaver."

Alice’s fingers brushed his.

"It needs a mortician."

And that terrified him.

Because suddenly, the Loom felt heavy. Too heavy.

The Echoheart was waiting for me. Not because it didn’t have any answers--well, maybe except for the lady Paladin. But it continued waiting for my decision.

The Oath-Tender approached slowly and knelt before them, her banner lowered.

"Let me help you. I know the fifth chamber. I can lead you to what remains."

Lucian hesitated.

"...And then what?" he asked. "What if unsealing that grief destroys the whole spiral?"

"Then it dies honestly," she said. "Not like this."

That silence again.

Alice closed her eyes.

"I trust her."

Lucian didn’t.

But maybe that was what they needed right now—someone who had trusted too much, and someone who hadn’t trusted enough.

His fingers closed over the Loom’s hilt.

"Fine. Show us the path."

The Oath-Tender nodded once and stood.

She moved to the wreckage of the dining hall and pressed a sigil into the ground—an oathcircle.

The floor responded.

Stone slid aside, revealing a narrow stairwell hidden beneath.

Not hidden.

Sealed.

Auren turned away from them.

"You’ll see, mortician," he murmured. "Some grief is better left untouched."

Lucian didn’t answer.

Because in his heart, he knew—

That was exactly the kind of grief he was born to face.

[Thread Resonance: 86%]

[Warning – Spiral Core Approaching]

[System Alert: Rite of Lingering Echoes Phase II Unlocked]

>> Mortician Class Synergy Detected

>> Oath-Tender Added to Temporary Party