From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 100: The Ghost City Grieves
He took a deep breath, then began the Rite of the Final Echo. Both the Loom and the Grimoire were opened and by his side. The Loom’s threads stretched wide and reached across Vel Quen.
Red, gold, silver, and black threads shot out and began to connect memories, griefs, and unfinished stories across the city.
Lucian concentrated as he started to weave on the Loom. It was always a genuinely strange experience because he had no idea how to weave anything. But somehow, when the Grief Loom was involved, his hands moved by themselves.
The rite begun and gently, the buildings and people started to pulse. Moment by moment, they could move again.
Lucian’s Grimoire, positioned above the Loom, showed the flickering names his hands wove into the thread. As he saw Serafina’s name, his heart beat a little faster.
Do I finally get to know what or who she is?
Alongside her name were hints at rites that were buried by decree.
How deeply do these hidden rites go? How much more was Alaric forced to keep quiet until he couldn’t take it anymore?
+
Alice walked deeper into the shrine, her golden threads guiding her.
Huh? What is this...a cracked altar? It looked like it was once dedicated to mourning rites—its inscriptions rewritten by Marguerite.
Did she fear death, or the pain others had to endure?
"Marguerite!" a young girl with blonde curls and blue eyes was talking to a taller woman. Her hair was neatly pinned up and half of her face was hidden by a veil.
So even then, she already had a half-dead body.
The blonde woman held Marguerite’s gloved hands and said softly, "Death isn’t our enemy. It’s just what happens to people. Forgetting is the true way we die."
Marguerite’s hands clasped the other woman’s.
"I know that, Serafina, but...it’s still scary. I wish I could get rid of the sadness people felt for good."
Serafina shook her head and smiled sadly. "If we don’t grieve, we can’t move forward. You can remember people without being sad, Marguerite. It sucks now, but it’ll get better. Always does."
Alice smiled and wiped away a tear from her porcelain cheek. "Serafina...she wove memory too. And didn’t deny grief."
As the memory ended and Serafina slowly disappeared into shards of light, Alice looked at her. Deep in her heart, she felt her resolve strengthen.
I’ll continue her legacy. I’ll be a guide who walks with others’ grief, instead of around it.
+
Cadrel, blade up, sliced through a waking memory, and heard it talk back. His muscles ached as he rolled away from an incoming shadow-beast and found the child from the bakery.
This time, Cadrel picked him up and carried him out of the illusion.
"I’m here. I’ve got you. I won’t leave you alone again." As if in thanks, the memory crystallized into a shining shard and sealed itself in Cadrel’s armor like a badge.
He heard a soft female voice whisper, "Don’t worry. You haven’t failed him--you’ve witnessed him. And that’s enough."
Cadrel’s breath came in shaky gasps as he felt tears spill from his eyes. "T-t-thank you, Serafina," he said softly.
Who else could it be?
+
Merry returned to the great ash tree and saw it was glowing with threadlight.
She opened her own Grimoire and chanted a small prayer. Slowly, names started to carve themselves into the bark.
Serafina Stormbringer was one of the names on the bark, and the words Leader of the First Rebellion Against Queen Marguerite’s Death: Rewritten.
"An uprising? IS this why she froze everyone and wanted Auren to keep them frozen?"
Looking at imprisonment as peace from grieving...she’s even more scared than I thought.
Solemnly, Merry raised her hand and created a lily out of thin air.
She placed it at the tree’s base and whispered, "It’s about time everyone remembered what happened here."
+
It had been a long journey, but at last, the youngest Watcher finally arrived in the central square, lantern in tow. She saw Lucian’s rite unfold and spoke the phrase: "Third bell, open unto me."
Slowly, the Watcher’s face began to change. She stared at her reflection from the lantern’s glass and smiled. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and an angelic aura.
Serafina’s echo is here.
"I will never be you, our glorious seraph," Serafina said, looking up to the sky.
"but I will continue your legacy."
She heard a hollow clapping noise and turned.
It was Queen Abigail, who had arrived just in time to witness Serafina in a Watcher’s body.
"Shall we go?"
+
Together, Queen Abigail and Watcher-Serafina walked on a narrow bridge high above the spiral. At the end was a large black armchair, with the Spymaster seated and comfortable.
"Spymaster. You made Auren take responsibility for my desire: to preserve everyone as they were that day."
The Spymaster laughed as he cracked his neck and yawned. He looked like a satisfied cat from his perch and Queen Abigail wanted to remove that smug smile.
"Indeed, I used Auren. But I only granted your wish: Vel Quen existed without change. Auren just enoforced it."
Queen Abigail threw a corrupted thread spool into the spiral, severing her old oath.
"Then I shall fix it."
+
Alone in Vel Quen’s core, Auren walked into the deepest part of the spiral. On a raised platform, floating serenely, was the heart of the city. It was surrounded by the silent statues of Vel Quen’s founders.
"Did anything I do matter? Was I able to preserve them like the Queen wanted?"
She had gone to face the Spymaster, and Auren had no idea if she would return alive.
Or even as herself.
The ground began to quake as the enormous stone statues’ eyes opened slightly. A gentle golden flicker of threadlight moved around them toward the core.
The threadlight showed him Lucian, performing the rite to help the city grieve.
"You weren’t meant to guard this city alone," a voice said behind him, soft and serene.
"Sera," he turned and saw her--transparent, blonde, and angelic. She’d been strong as the captain who fought against Queen Marguerite’s Death: Rewritten goal. Atreaum’s queen wanted to erase emotions from grief, and Serafina had opposed it.
They clashed and ultimately, aided by the Spymaster, Marguerite won.
Now, 100 years later, a mortician descended and guided Serafina’s echo away from the shadows of death.
Auren bowed his head and wept with relief.
"I tried so hard. But this is my limit. The city will remember their grief, and we will hurt. But we will hurt together."
+ 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
As the rite concluded, the people of Vel Quen were fully unfrozen. They began to move, react, and speak.
Some children cried and many adults screamed.
Other people were just disoriented and confused.
A protective dome of threadlight moved above the city like a shooting star. Brother Andrew, much older now, stared up at the sky.
"It’s beautiful...part ritual, part sky. I’m so...glad I got to see this one last time."
He continued looking at the sky even as his body started to disappear into dust.
+
Alice managed to run toward Lucian by using her golden threadlight, just as he collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Both of his Loom and Grimoire were almost spent as well. The magical artifacts both lay on the floor, looking like normal tools.
But the Grimoire was still fully open, and flipped toward a new page:
"When we mourn, we remember. And when we remember, we can move forward. Life begins anew."
Just as Lucian completely lost consciousness, he thought he heard Serafina’s calming voice.
"Thank you. Please, bury me and my friends properly."
