From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 102: Welcome to Austmark!

They stopped for the night at a small town with crow post. Lucian sent one piece of parchment with two sentences:

Will you tell everyone I’m not a traitor? I don’t think your allies will welcome me back with open arms.

Alice had been petting the crows while he tied his letter to a calm looking crow with a little shirt with the words ’Atreaum’ embroidered in silver.

"Shouldn’t you have written more? Explained about your journey and the situation?"

He shook his head and felt his ponytail swing to and fro. "If she doesn’t reply, that’s also an answer. And it means we keep moving away from Atreaum. Spending the day dodging her allies isn’t fun."

She nodded and pointed to a framed map. "If she doesn’t publicly forgive you, the next town we’re headed for is called Austmark."

The crow-keeper glanced at her with a smile. "Austmark? Why, that’s where I grew up. It’s beautiful—and quite peaceful. The last oasis for the undead, I’d say."

"That’s heavy praise for Austmark," Lucian commented. "What do they think of the mortician who betrayed Queen Marguerite?"

He said it so casually, but his heart hammered against his chest.

Whatever she says will determine where we’ll go next.

Without missing a beat, the crow-keeper asked Lucian, "Who? This is a neutral village, lad—we don’t pay much attention to world events."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Just a rumor I heard during our travels. It’s nice to know not everyone is as focused on the negative."

She grinned. "Why focus on things you can’t control when you have your own life to live?"

+

They waved goodbye to the crow-keeper, who gave them the address of the next crowmail drop-off. "It’s right next to Austmark’s town hall, you can’t miss it!"

"I’m glad we didn’t have to run this time," Alice mentioned as they hopped into a horse-drawn cart. "Yeah. It would’ve been tough to talk myself out of that one," Lucian said, laughing with relief. He showed the driver his mortician pin. "We’re headed to Austmark, under the Queen’s orders."

"I haven’t seen one of you in forever," the driver had a pageboy hat on and a scarf to protect his neck. "The boys at the inn are going to flip. Imagine me, taking a real mortician to peaceful ol’ Austmark!"

"Been a few weeks on the job," Lucian said truthfully. "Didn’t realize how busy things had gotten."

"Oh yes," the driver said, his jaw clicking. "Almost nobody lies down for a long rest these days. I wasn’t one of the rotting fellas, luckily—" he gestured to his face. It was mostly there, like it paused during decomposition. He didn’t smell like formaldehyde either.

"Made it easier to come back to work after I got a fever."

Alice made a sympathetic noise. "Must be hard. I’ve got a poultice if you need it."

He glanced at her and flushed. "N-n-no need ma’am, you keep your poultice ’til you see some really unfortunate fella."

+

It was a slightly bumpy ride, but eventually they ended up in a quiet village with high stone walls and a gate. The sign next to the gate said "Welcome to the last place that functions."

"Dropping off visitors," the driver said. "from the crow-post office. They’ve come from Atreaum."

The guardsmen nodded. "Welcome to Austmark. Mayor will want to see you--she’s always been enthusiastic about new guests. Office is that way." He used his spear to point to the north-east.

"Thanks," Lucian said, pleased to have a normal conversation for once. There were no alerts from the Loom or the Grimoire, and he couldn’t feel any magical energy from the town.

Kind of wish I ended up in this town instead of Atreaum. Life might’ve been very different...

It looked like a town straight out of a postcard.

The cobblestone streets were cleanly swept and even the gutters had no fallen leaves. There were small shops with colorful awnings, unfurled slightly in the breeze.

Every building was painted in cheerful colors: pale greens, yellows, and blues. The mayor’s office was in the center of town, right next to the crow-post office.

But Lucian couldn’t help feeling creeped out by all of it.

It looks like someone’s idea of what peace should look like. Even all the window shutters...is this a normal town? Reminds me a lot of Staesis...

In the distance, he saw a windmill with its blades turning slowly, and golden wheatfields behind it.

Too perfect.

And then Lucian realized something chilling.

"Alice," Lucian said quietly, holding her hand. She squeezed it instinctively. "Yes?"

"This town...we’ve almost fully walked around it, right?"

"Mmhm. What’s wrong?"

Lucian said quietly, "I haven’t seen a cemetery anywhere. And...not one cry from a baby. Or a toddler."

Alice frowned. "Yeah...it does seem like a town of introverts, doesn’t it? Even the kids...I wonder why."

There weren’t even any stray cats wandering around.

Just a whole lot of harmony and silence.

The townspeople went about their business, nodding and smiling at them both. It was like Austmark lived in its own little bubble.

"Well, there’s only one way to find out." They circled the town again just to make sure. While there was a church, there was a flower bed instead of a cemetery.

There were no graves to speak of, anywhere.

I mean, there could be a mausoleum... Lucian tried to comfort himself with that thought. Maybe they preferred to hide their dead underground.

He wasn’t very convinced, but maybe the mayor would have a reasonable explanation.

+

"Welcome to the last place that functions!" Mayor Prescott was different from Mayor Gray. He was a proud elf corpse that smelled like pine needles and incense. But what Lucian noticed first were his eyes.

They had the gaze of somebody who not only managed to preserve himself, but an entire town.

"Very pleased to make your acquaintance. It isn’t every day a mortician walks through our walls."

"Thank you. I noticed you didn’t have a cemetery. Do you bury your dead underground?"

Mayor Prescott’s smile dropped for a millisecond. The only reason Lucian noticed was because his other gestures were polished.

He raised a hand and gestured toward the center of the village.

"We don’t bury the dead here," he said smoothly. "Austmark is protected by a ritual dome—an old ley-thread enchantment laid long before the war. It stabilizes memory and identity, prevents decay from warping the soul."

Lucian frowned. "So what happens to the bodies?"

"Each death is acknowledged, yes—but the remains are taken into the sanctum beneath Town Hall. The dome preserves them in stasis, their stories sealed in threadglass vessels."

"Threadglass?" Alice echoed, curious.