From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 54: An Uneasy Summons

After the battle, silence returned, but not peace.

Elian stepped back, blood still on his lip and eyes closed. It was like he was trying to contain something venomous inside of him.

Lucian approached slowly and lifted the coat’s fur-lined hood onto his head to protect him from the cold. "Elian..."

After all that, I still worry for him. It was an absurd thought, especially because he was the reason why they escaped to the north in the first place.

But the shadow-mortician cut him off with a scoff, turning sharply toward the others still in the broken throne room: Alice, Merry, and Cadrel. The chamber flickered with post-ritual light.

"You’ll write this down, won’t you?" Elian said, voice colder than the remains of Chateau Magnifique. "The part where I lost control."

Huh? Lucian stared at him, confused. "What are you talking about? I’m no longer part of the Crown. I don’t have to report any of this."

He heard Elian exhale and pinch the bridge of his nose, as his Grimoire flicked its pages irritably. Instead of Elian expressing his feelings, the Grimoire sometimes did it for him.

Well, whenever it wasn’t busy suppressing his outward show of emotion, anyway.

"Are you sure your book isn’t recording your adventure, like some sort of video game?"

Lucian swallowed a laugh that threatened to escape. "...eh...excuse me?"

Elian glanced at his Grimoire and flicked his hand. On command, the book’s pages fluttered toward the end of the book.

In neat cursive handwriting, it read:

Elian fought alongside the Mortician of Sorrow today, against the King of Chateau Magnifique. He had excellent technique but (unfortunately) displayed rage toward the Mortician.

The re-education protocol has been activated, as agreed by the Queen and the Shadow Court.

"This is how she knows I failed."

It was more concerning than he realized. Even when he wasn’t sending her reports, she could have accessed his Grimoire and read its contents anyway.

He was suddenly glad that whatever magic was affecting Staesis had caused the Grimoire to fall asleep. The last thing Prince Alexander needed was a thorough investigation.

Lucian kept quiet, unsure of what to say.

"The things my Grimoire recorded might not have been sent to the Queen when I rang the Bell. But Elian...you don’t have to go back to her, you know. You could just..."

+

Elian gestured vaguely to the shattered throne. "You think this makes us equals? That just because we defeated an enemy together, I’d join your little party of misfits?"

He laughed and the bitterness echoed in his tone. "No. I was made to be better. To last longer. To feel nothing. And yet—look at me."

Lucian stepped forward. "That? Losing control isn’t weakness, Elian! That was proof you’re still human."

Elian rolled his eyes and raised his hand. Slowly, dark red energy began to gather and form into a black icicle. Lucian raised a glyph to defend himself but Elian simply threw it to his left and it crashed against a forest of pine trees.

"I don’t want to be human! I want to be the 13th Mortician. The only one."

For a split second, Lucian felt like screaming "Then take it! Take all of this responsibility I didn’t even ask for!"

Lucian was bone-tired. He had traveled to different towns and each time there was a different set of problems to solve. Initially, he just wanted to make the Queen proud of him.

Then he discovered the undead had dreams and duties of their own. At first, he just accepted it as another part of his new job. But like Alaric wrote in his journal—it was heavy. He now understood why the Queen had a collection of morticians. Each one just did their job until they couldn’t take it anymore, and passed it on to the next person.

Alaric, in his own twisted way, tried to end that cycle.

And here was Elian, giving him a chance to do the same thing. He would do the tasks the Queen wanted in the way she wanted. And then maybe Lucian could just lie in the dirt and let eternal sleep wash over him.

Except—

That didn’t feel right.

Lucian’s heart twisted. "So this isn’t over."

"No," Elian replied. "It’s just getting started." 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

+

A deep booming voice echoed from beyond the shattered throne. It was low, regal, and laden with command.

"ELIAN!"

It was a formal summons—final and impossible to ignore. Lucian and his companions flinched. Elian, on the other hand, sighed deeply. His shoulders slumped for the first time since the fight.

"And that," he muttered. "Will be the Queen. Or the Spymaster. Either way."

Lucian’s heart dropped. "Will you be punished?"

Elian snapped—too fast.

"Why do you care?"

Lucian shrank back, holding his walking cane for balance. "I was just asking..."

"Don’t. They’ll just carve more glyphs into my flesh. Or pull me into a trance deep enough to drown. I’ve been through almost everything by now."

Merry gasped. "But carving it into your skin—"

"Is forbidden," Elian finished flatly.

He raised a hand. For a moment, his coat slipped—just slightly.

Just long enough to reveal the glowing mass of blue glyphs across his skin—etched along his shoulder and burned into the hollow of his collarbone. Lucian had no doubt it continued under his clothes as well.

He only saw a quick glimpse before it vanished.

Merry stared at him in horror. "That’s...but that’s permanent. It’s branding."

Elian looked over his shoulder. He wasn’t angry or smug anymore—he just looked very tired.

"That’s one perk of being Queen, Merry. She makes the rules."

+

Lucian wanted to stop him. To say something—anything—that would uncoil the tension in his spine and the guilt in his heart. But he also knew there was nothing he could say to fix this mess.

With one last flourish, Elian tucked his Grimoire away and walked toward the voice.

Toward whatever punishment waited.

Lucian could see Atraeum’s towering spires in his mind’s eye, but they were more menacing than comforting.

He stayed behind.

Not because he wanted to, but because that was all he could do right now.

Elian definitely wasn’t a friend. But at the same time, he was no longer a stranger.

Lucian hoped they would meet again under better circumstances.

But from the way he looked at him, Lucian doubted it.

+

After Elian’s form completely disappeared behind a snowbank, the ice stopped falling. They were surrounded in a half-destroyed castle with a broken and empty throne. And far above, in the remnants of Chateau Magnifique’s brittle ceiling, Lucian swore he heard the familiar scratch-scratch of a pen.

Whether it was to give him another part of grief to uncover or unveil a new echo, he wasn’t sure.

But it was coming.

Lucian took a deep breath and looked at Cadrel, who seemed just as exhausted as he was.

"Are you okay, Brother Cadrel?"