Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

The next day, within the sprawling halls of the sea palace of Aquis Vanlur, the entirety of the noble bloodline had been summoned under urgent and unforeseen circumstances.

The palace was rarely this restless. Whispers swam through the water, slipping between coral pillars and curling along the vaulted ceilings.

From the fragments of overheard conversations and the scattered rumours spreading like wildfire through the courts, most of them had already pieced together a rough image of what was about to unfold.

At the heart of it all was a single human—an outsider, someone plucked from certain death by none other than the next heir to the throne, Luris Glanis.

This same human, against all reason and expectation, had managed to catch the eye of Empress Wannre herself.

The story that had spread was as absurd as it was enticing. Supposedly, this human possessed an ability that rendered him immune to her natural charm.

To him, the Empress, whose very existence was a living enchantment, whose beauty drove sane men into raving madness was nothing more than a normal merfolk. Her mystical, entrancing allure simply… did not work.

And for that very reason, the Empress wished to place him among the noble blood, woven directly into the hierarchy of governance that ruled Aquis Vanlur. The logic was straightforward enough: she wanted to experiment.

Perhaps his immunity was born of nothing more than his race, humanity itself, a natural counter to her power.

Perhaps it was something deeper, something peculiar to him alone. Regardless, the Empress had no intention of letting the mystery slip by untested.

By integrating him into the system, binding him to their governance, it would be the same as declaring him one of their own.

Before, he had been a guest—an outsider protected by their cultural laws, a figure they could not touch too directly without stirring trouble.

But once he became a member of the council, that protection dissolved. He would belong to Aquis Vanlur. And everyone in the room knew what that meant.

They were always generous with their own kind.

And so, even though grumbles of dissent stirred beneath the fins of certain nobles, resentment at the thought of a human being granted such a title, most were secretly delighted. The truth was that their curiosity gnawed at them far more than their pride did.

Every noble in the chamber desired the same thing: to gaze upon the Empress directly, to bask in the majesty of her beauty with their own eyes. But her presence was a double-edged blade.

Even the smallest glimpse of her bare face was enough to shatter reason, to strip away sense until one drowned in madness. It was pitiful, tragic, even that they lived under her rule yet could not bear the sight of her.

And here, suddenly, was a solution. This human, a creature so fragile and unremarkable in other ways, stood as living proof that her charms could be resisted.

If studying him, experimenting with him, or perhaps extracting something from him could grant them even a fraction of that resistance… then it was worth every compromise.

Give him a division. Give him a title. It mattered little. The positions within the council were, in the end, ceremonial.

They looked grand and authoritative on paper, but in practice they were simply names on coral plaques, titles meant to impress outsiders.

Orders could be given, yes, but whether those orders were carried out, delayed, or quietly ignored depended entirely on the will of those beneath them. Power here was fluid.

So let him have a seat. Let him have a title. None of that mattered, so long as his body and mind could be made into subjects of study.

The palace chamber rippled with low voices, the nobles' chatter weaving together into an undercurrent of anticipation.

Creak—!

A sound broke through the tide of murmurs. The massive pearl-encrusted doors at the far end of the chamber shifted and slowly opened, the hinges moaning as beams of pale light speared through the widening gap.

Every head turned at once. The chatter stilled, cut clean as though sliced with a blade.

From the opening emerged a single figure, gliding into the chamber with all the grace of a deity returning from the heavens.

The glow of the light framed her silhouette, gilding the delicate arcs of her form in radiance.

She moved with an otherworldly poise, the long sweep of her blood-red tail rippling behind her like liquid fire, and a veil of shimmering silk concealed her face from view.

There was no need for introductions. No voice cried her name.

The entire assembly knew instantly who she was.

Every noble present, every scale, every fin, every fragment of pride bowed as one. Not a single head dared remain upright. Two reasons guided their obedience.

The first was obvious: the woman who had entered was none other than their Empress, Wannre herself. And to meet her unveiled gaze was a transgression bordering on suicidal.

The second was subtler, yet even more absolute: her very presence bent them. The sheer weight of her majesty pressed into their chests and spines, grinding down resistance until they submitted without thought.

It was not even a conscious act—it was instinct, survival, a primal recognition that they stood in the presence of something that could unmake them with a glance.

In that moment, the chamber of Aquis Vanlur fell utterly silent, and all that remained was the sound of her movements as she entered, veiled and radiant, to pass judgment on the fate of one human.

But eventually, their eyes shifted, noticing something peculiar. It wasn't just their Empress who had entered. Beside her majesty, trailing in her shadow, was another figure…

This one did not have a tail.

A murmur, quiet but sharp, rippled across the chamber.

— Is that… the human everyone has been whispering about? He looks so… ordinary.

— Ordinary? Look at him carefully. His body is solid, his frame carries strength. His face… enviable enough, I'll admit. But where is the pressure? Where is the bloodlust? Aren't humans supposed to be creatures born of violence?

— Hmph. Perhaps he's still a youngling. His fangs are still yet to bloom. Give him time. Once he tastes blood, they say, no human can ever resist showing their true nature. Keeping your guard down around one is asking to be bitten.

— Still… he has caught the Empress's eye. That alone makes him dangerous. Enviable, yes, but dangerous. Perhaps she sees potential in him, potential that even we cannot yet glimpse. If he truly becomes an asset… it could be for the greater good of Aquis Vanlur.

Their whispers flowed like currents, weaving through the chamber, layering suspicion with intrigue.

The human—Arawn—followed quietly in Wannre's wake, his steps measured but deliberate.

When she reached her throne and gracefully lowered herself upon it, his place was at her side.

He simply stood there, a foreign figure etched in stark contrast against the grandeur of the palace and the shimmer of the merfolk court.

It was only after the Empress had taken her seat that the others dared to breathe properly again.

The officials shifted, fins brushing against jeweled chairs, and one by one they lowered themselves into their own seats. Yet even as they settled, their eyes did not waver.

Every gaze in that chamber clung to the human.

Fifty pairs of eyes, sharp as spearpoints, bore into him with silent demand. Their stares pressed against his skin, dissecting, peeling, trying to strip away the calm mask he wore to glimpse what lay hidden underneath.

Their Empress, who never once allowed herself to be seen or touched by any other being, had brought a human into her presence. Into their council. Into her shadow.

And though they could not see their Empress's face through her veil, they could see his plainly.

And that was almost worse.

For he was nothing more than a man. A human. His gaze did not sear, his posture did not threaten. He stood there as though he belonged, calm, unshaken, untouchable by their judgment.

Which only unsettled them further.

Because collectively, in their marrow, they believed one thing above all else: their Empress would never lower her gaze for something ordinary. Not for a merfolk, not for a beast, and certainly not for a human.

So what was he really?

And what did she see in him that none of them could?