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

According to the duo, Aquis Vanlur was a nation built across several expanses of the Silver Sea's depths. Unlike the land dwellers who split into kingdoms, empires, and scattered factions, they had no states or blocs—just one united body of people. Everyone lived in the main territory and were collectively known as Aquir Vanlurians.

Surprisingly, the average merfolk bore no hatred toward the human race. Most didn't even know we existed. A peaceful, untouched nation.

And currently, I was following Luris through the vast stretches of the ocean, headed toward what he called the 'Main Bloc,' where some celebration was taking place.

We swam side by side, gliding through the water with ease. Well, they did it with ease—Muirs in particular. His movements were fluid and unhurried, like he was one with the sea itself. A natural swimmer, as expected of a merfolk.

Along the way, I paid attention to the infrastructure of the nation. Their buildings, if one could call them that, were primarily constructed from shaped coral, vivid sponges, and strangely smooth stone. Everything looked organic yet intentional.

There was one peculiar design I kept noticing again and again—sculptures of flowing water with hands reaching out of it, carved into walls or standing as monuments. I didn't ask, but they clearly held some cultural significance.

Otherwise, the place was simple. Functional. Beautiful in a serene, underwater kind of way.

It didn't take long before the stillness of the water gave way to noise. A rising hum. Then voices—dozens, maybe hundreds—singing, cheering, shouting. In the distance ahead, a large cluster of coral towers and dome-shaped structures came into view, forming what could only be described as a city.

A crowd had gathered in the center, tightly packed and buzzing with energy. Among them, someone floated above the others, slightly elevated.

I turned to the brothers. "Who is that? Someone important?"

Luris was the one to answer, but there was a certain tension in his voice, like he was forcing neutrality into it. "He's a revolutionary of sorts. He's pushing for a new nation to be formed. He calls it Vquis Aanlur."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is there a reason behind this? Or does he just want to divide the nation for fun?"

Luris gave a short nod. "There is a reason, yes. It goes back to our tails. You see, we merfolk are born with different colored tails—red, blue, green, and yellow. Historically, the yellow-tailed have been treated… poorly."

"How poorly?" I asked.

This time, Muirs answered, perhaps sensing Luris's hesitation. "It starts from the household. They're often treated as inferior. Their designated hunting areas are limited or outright taken from them. Many yellow-tailed males aren't favored by females, and yellow-tailed females are shunned by males. It's subtle, but deeply ingrained."

So, discrimination based on tail color. Racism, basically—just painted in new scales.

Still, there was one thing I didn't get. "Why the hatred for yellow, specifically? I've seen a lot of yellow-colored structures here. It doesn't seem like the color itself is hated."

Luris let out a deep breath before explaining, "Each tail color has symbolic significance in our culture. Red tails are associated with our Deity—they are revered. Blue tails represent the sea itself, and are deeply respected. Green tails symbolize plants and the cycle of life. They too are respected. But yellow tails…"

He paused, eyes clouding slightly. "Yellow is associated with the sun. And the sun is considered the enemy of merfolk. The surface, The light, The heat. All of it represents danger to us. That's where the bias stems from."

Ah, so it was spiritual in nature. Red, blue, green—traits of the sea. Yellow—trait of the surface.

I nodded slowly, piecing it together. "So the yellow-tailed were seen as outsiders from the moment they were born."

"Exactly," Luris said quietly. "And that's why this revolutionary figure has such influence. He's yellow-tailed himself. He believes his people deserve a home of their own—free from judgment. I… understand his anger. But splitting the nation isn't the answer."

I watched the crowd for a moment. There was fervor there. Passion and anger.

Then I turned back to Luris. "Is that why you said earlier you couldn't win your people's hearts? Because you oppose this discrimination?"

He gave a slow nod. "Yes. I've never agreed with how the yellow-tailed are treated. I want to change that. I want to abolish the discrimination, unify everyone. But it's hard. The yellow-tailed are in the minority. Their voices get drowned out. Every time I try to speak for them, the others—those of the red, blue, and green—push back."

"Do you want to stop the discrimination?" I asked, my voice soft, almost gentle.

Luris nodded. "Yes," he said quietly. "From the bottom of my heart."

I offered him a calm smile. "Then let's do it. And I'll help you—if you'll have me, of course."

Muirs's eyes bulged in disbelief. He burst out, "Really?! But… even if you help, what are the chances of actually eradicating it? This discrimination has gone on for over five thousand years. We couldn't change anything. What can a mere human do?"

I chuckled. "You're not wrong. But a human hasn't visited your nation for several epochs, if I'm not mistaken."

Luris's eyes lit up with sudden understanding. "Oh! You want to use your presence here to elevate their status. To give them hope. Like—if I, the prince, treat a land dweller better than my own kind, then why can't the yellow-tailed be treated better too?"

I nodded. "Exactly. They've lost hope—that's why they want to separate, to create a new nation. But if you can spark that hope again, if you show them there's a future here, they might fight for equality instead of isolation. I'm not saying it'll work overnight. The depth and degree of the discrimination matters too. But... sometimes one spark is enough."

Muirs nodded solemnly. "So you'd need to observe them first. Understand what they've truly endured before making a move."

"Exactly," I agreed, gliding beside them. "And while I'm at it, tell me—what's the easiest way to integrate into your community? What do your people enjoy most?"

Luris looked thoughtful. "I'd say… hunting and singing. We merfolk love the thrill of a good hunt, and songs are woven into our culture just as deeply. Of course, there's also religious worship. But, well…" He paused, glancing at me. "A land dweller worshipping our deity might not go over well. It could stir suspicion."

I hummed in agreement. "They'd see it as mockery. It'd only widen the gap."

Muirs gave me a grin and a thumbs-up. "Exactly. Stick with the songs and hunting. You'll blend in better that way."