From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 84: The Town that Remembered Too Late

The next morning was quiet. They didn’t hold another procession. Mimea was still blanketed in the same silence the town revered, but something shifted. Like mist curling from a lake, or sound just beginning to remember its name.

Lucian walked the streets while the others rested, his cloak drawn close. People passed by without speaking, as usual. But now he noticed their masks were slightly off-kilter, and their steps uneven.

A few stared at Alice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Some stepped into doorways to avoid Lucian altogether.

Others... nodded.

Just slightly.

Hesitant.

A little scared, even.

Lucian watched them all—and tried to catalog it.

Are they afraid of us now? Or grateful? Or just waiting to see what else we’ll ruin?

He leaned against the fountain’s edge at the heart of town, watching as someone scrubbed away chalk traces from the square. But the place where Alice’s glyph had been still shimmered faintly, like it refused to be forgotten.

At least nobody in Mimea wants to attack us, after what just happened...

Lucian stopped by a fountain and saw many coins at the bottom, like it was a large wishing well.

He looked down at his reflection in the water. With his hair cut, Lucian looked like the "proper" man his mother always wanted him to be. His gray eyes stared through himself. Lucian had always been uncomfortable looking people in the eyes.

But since he first landed in this world, he was always doing his best.

And now...

He was not the boy who rang the bell in Staesis.

Not yet the mortician this world needed.

If I had waited in Staesis, he thought, just waited... would they have mourned properly on their own?

The question refused to settle. There had been no Alice back then. No Merry. No Loom.

Only the bell, a boy, and his Grimoire.

And a deep, stubborn grief that refused to rot.

+

He heard footsteps, and turned around.

A young woman stood near the edge of the square, clutching a pale violet scarf. She kept glancing toward the elder’s house, unsure whether to go in.

When Lucian approached, she stiffened—but didn’t flee.

"Do you want to say her name?" he asked gently.

She nodded.

But said nothing.

Lucian nodded too. "You can. You don’t have to do it loudly. You don’t have to do it now."

She turned and whispered:

"Dara."

Then fled before the word could echo.

Lucian didn’t follow.

But the Loom at his side fluttered—pages twitching.

[THREAD DETECTED]

Name: Dara Lorne

Location: Released.

Ripple Effect: 11 active threads have been displaced.

Lucian blinked.

What does that mean?

The Loom answered:

[Threads remembered in silence will echo elsewhere.]

Lucian walked back toward the inn and felt the change before he saw it.

There was a faint warmth near his heart.

There was a faint pulsing—not the Loom this time, but something deeper. When he looked, a faint glyph flickered near his wrist, just beneath the cuff of his coat.

It was faintly silver, and candle-shaped. There was a loop of ash around the flame like a halo.

He stared, confused.

But why would I unlock the Path of the Saint now? I haven’t drawn any healing glyphs or saved anyone from the brink of death.

Lucian’s eyes widened as he came to a possible realization.

Unless...

Unless waiting had been enough?

He sat on the edge of the fountain and rubbed his temples.

"I’m not a saint," he muttered. "the last thing I need is another thing to master."

The Loom vibrated like it was lightly scolding him. In his head, a soft voice answered:

[No one acts like a saint at first. There are different ways to opening subclass paths.]

Lucian might have argued with that, but a sharp knock echoed across the stone.

Alice’s voice called from the road.

"Lucian—someone’s asking for you."

He stood at once, following the instinct he’d gotten since living in this world.

Merry’s voice followed.

"You’re going to want to see this."

+

They all stood at the edge of town. A cart had arrived, and he didn’t see any horses pulling it. Its wheels never touched the ground. It levitated, guided by a force that glowed a faint blue.

A cart moving by itself? Or are the creatures invisible? Lucian wondered, his hands touching the air. Merry tried to stop herself from laughing. "What are you doing?"

Lucian pointed to the cart. "No horses? Or invisible ones?"

Merry raised an eyebrow. "You can’t see them?"

Alice untied her sketchbook and started drawing.

In the driver’s seat, a figure stood wearing the familiar black mortician robes. But theirs looked frayed and had multiple patches from repeated repair jobs. So he was no scholar or priest.

Lucian thought he wasn’t going to be surprised, but his eyes still widened when he saw a leather Grimoire, strapped shut with brass thread. The figure tapped some dust away from their boots as they jumped down.

They pulled back their hood to reveal a young man with long sky-blue hair. He didn’t have human ears. Instead, there was a pair of cat ears that twitched, taking in information.

A beastman. I saw a few when I walked through the Queen’s mortician mausoleum, but never in real life. Huh. They tried to erase a line of mortician beastmen?

"Lucian Bowcott," they said. "You don’t know me. But I followed the one who came before you. The one they tried to erase."

Lucian’s breath caught. "The Erased..."

The Loom burst open from its case.

[Thread Recognized]

Affiliation: Erased Mortician Lineage

Status: Endangered

The stranger reached into their pocket and held up a piece of thread. It wasn’t spun or stored. It was braided with two glyphs Lucian had never seen before.

He opened his own Grimoire and passed his hand over the thread. "Please store this information." The book flipped its pages and silently fulfilled his request.

"Why appear now?" Lucian asked, concerned. "Aren’t you afraid they’ll come after you?"

The cat beastman gave him a small, sad smile. "I wouldn’t risk this if I didn’t think it was worth it. Besides..."

He cleared his throat.

"You’ve rethreaded something that was supposed to stay dead," the stranger said."Now I need to show you what’s unraveling next."