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

"Why do you strive for such knowledge? Is it merely a shallow thirst for understanding, or is there something deeper festering inside you?" she inquired, her words laced with suspicion.

There was no real reason to lie to her. Yet, telling the truth would be foolish. I didn't exactly get an impression of someone trustworthy from her. I forced a casual shrug.

"You can say so… ever since the rifts began tearing open across the world, my interest in them has grown. It was a spark of curiosity at first, but somewhere along the way, it ignited into a flame—burning hotter, pulling me in deeper. I can't quite ignore it anymore."

She hummed, low and thoughtful. "So… nothing more than interest? No ambition? No hidden intent? Hm, of course you're lying. But it is only a half-lie." Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "I will let you off."

I let out a mental sigh. Even when her abilities wouldn't work on me, lying to her was foolish. She had an innate understanding of people, of subtle shifts in tone, breath, and intent. A terrifying gift… or curse.

I let the silence hang for a heartbeat before speaking again. "So, will you tell me anything about the rifts? Of course, not for free. I could… do something for you. An errand, perhaps."

"Errands, hm?" She tilted her head, voice carrying a playful hum, though her eyes sharpened with interest. "Not a bad idea. There are places I cannot set foot in—boundaries I cannot cross. Some I'm forbidden from, others I simply… cannot risk, because the entire race I watch over is too fragile to lose their 'guardian.'"

Her eyes glinted, sharp and bright. "If you could venture into those places for me, then maybe…"

I raised a brow, suspicion curling at the edges of my thoughts. "Places where others can't go? You do realize how this sounds, right? If you're plotting to get rid of me, this is a rather elaborate way of doing it."

She waved her hand as if brushing off an insect. "Oh, don't mention such trivial things. This works both ways. You take the risks, explore what I cannot, and in return, you keep your life. Isn't that a fair exchange?"

I sighed, shaking my head, though curiosity wormed its way through me despite myself. "If you don't mind me asking… why exactly are you stuck here in this castle?"

Her lips curled into a pout, as though the question was tiresome. "Ah, that. It's rather simple, really. Just showing my face is enough to drive a healthy merfolk into madness—lust so rabid they'd try to ravage me, or worship me, depending on their strength and status."

She flicked her fingers. "Of course, I'd kill them if they went too far. But after too many… unfortunate incidents, a certain set of restrictions were placed on me."

"One of which is never stepping beyond these walls."

I leaned back slightly, narrowing my eyes. "So it's not that you can't control your power… it's that even your weakest self is unbearable for them to face."

A radiant smile bloomed across her face, almost childlike. "Exactly! You see it clearly. They are simply too weak. Beyond fragile. If I so much as breathe too strongly, they crumble. And so, for their sake, I restrain myself. Restrictions, cages—call them what you will. It's all for them."

There was one thing I couldn't let go of. "But why?" My voice cut through her smile. "Why do you follow those restrictions? Don't you feel wronged? Doesn't it eat away at you—being chained up like this? Bound in a gilded prison, your freedom stolen by those weaker than you?"

Her eyes dilated for the faintest moment, then softened, her expression shifting into something far more human. A thoughtful smile played on her lips, fragile yet genuine.

"No, I do not feel wronged. The merfolk are like my children. And a parent must protect their children—even if it means becoming a prisoner in their stead."

Her voice lowered, tender yet unyielding. "If keeping them safe means I stay here forever, then so be it. I would gladly do so… because that is what parents do."

My lips parted, but she raised a hand to still me. Her eyes held a flicker of sadness, raw and unhidden for once.

"My own children died millennia ago," she whispered, voice almost breaking under the weight of time. "But these… these are their descendants. Pieces of them still live on. How could I not see them as my own? If staying caged preserves their lives, then I will accept my chains."

There was no mistaking it—her voice trembled. She tried to act strong, her usual haughty, untouchable facade wrapped tightly around her words, but cracks were showing. For all her power, for all her age, she sounded… feeble. Weak. Heartbroken.

And yet—I felt nothing.

No sympathy, pity, or warmth. Her plight was alien to me. I couldn't understand why anyone would sacrifice eternity for those who had done nothing for them, who would never even remember their face.

To me, life was too short to waste on such ideals. But to her—whose time stretched endlessly—perhaps, the concept of time was meaningless. She had wasted it thoroughly, with open arms.

Somehow… that made her pitiable. A being caged by her own love. A queen bound by her own heart.

I couldn't decide whether to scorn her or pity her.

But I shoved those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. "So, where do I need to go?"

She blinked as if snapping out of a drifting reverie. Then she nodded, her expression smoothing.

"Oh, right. Hmm. You need to visit the trenches east of here. There are three of them, each one… deeper than the last. Places that have never truly been explored, holding the secrets of the ocean itself."

She raised a slender hand and counted them on her fingers. "They're named Sanda, Vern, and Quare. Choose whichever one you want."

Her words came out too casually, as if she was simply telling me about three different taverns down a street. I narrowed my eyes. "That's vague. Can you give me at least some kind of knowledge about them? Anything at all? Right now it just sounds like you're pointing me at holes in the ground."

She only shrugged, her smile far too careless. "No, this is all I have. Really. The truth is… besides the names, there isn't much. Nobody's explored them. They're too deep, far beyond the point where mortals can swim, where even the most arrogant hunters refuse to tread. You heard this from Denus too, didn't you? After a certain depth, no one can go further. That's just how it is."

Her reasoning was sound, as much as I hated to admit it. I knew the rule. They hunted at a certain level, a certain band of depth. Going below that line was forbidden. Not just prohibited, but a death sentence. People who tried… didn't return.

Still, what choice did I have? "Fine then," I said, my voice flat but steady. "Send me right away. There's no need for me to waste time here, is there?"

She tilted her head slightly, almost amused by my impatience, but nodded. "You're right about that." Her gaze sharpened, and she leaned forward ever so slightly. "So, which one will you choose?"

I let the silence stretch for a moment, considering. Then, without overthinking it, I spoke. "Vern. I choose Vern."

Her lips curled into a small smile, a hint of excitement flickering in her eyes. "Good choice," she whispered, though her tone suggested she would have said the same no matter which trench I had picked.

Then she lifted her right hand with deliberate grace. "I hope you don't die. Believe it or not, I'm… something of an enthusiast when it comes to unexplored regions. So, if by some miracle you return, I would very much like to hear your tale."

And then—snap!

The water itself obeyed her gesture. Immediately the sea stirred and surged, currents twisting around me like living chains. It wrapped me whole in an instant, cocooning me in a crushing embrace. In those last fleeting seconds, before the currents fully dragged me away, I heard her parting words.

"Ahh, one last thing. Please remember… the creatures in Vern are of the worst kind. They aren't your typical monsters. They don't tear at your flesh. They claw at your mind. Keep that in mind, or you won't last long."

And then the ocean swallowed me.

The pressure of water engulfed my body, smothering, spinning, dragging me away faster than thought. Not even four seconds passed before the world around me shifted again. The currents dissipated like smoke, and I was left standing in eerie stillness.

Alone.

Before me yawned an abyss. A trench that stretched endlessly, a gaping wound in the ocean floor that seemed to devour every shred of light. Its darkness was absolute.

A shiver ran down my spine. This place was nothing like the hunting grounds I knew. This wasn't a gorge I could map, a hollow I could predict. This was… something else. It radiated danger so thick it felt like a weight pressing on my skin, sinking into my bones.

My hair stood on end before I even stepped forward. My body knew what my mind wanted to deny. "Hah…" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "So this is it. The price of my life was… dying in the hands of another creature."

Running wasn't an option. I knew that with absolute certainty. Even if she couldn't bend me with her power the way she did others, the entire ocean was still her domain. She could choke me with a current, collapse me beneath the waves, erase me with a single gesture. There was no escape.

So, with a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair.

It was dry.

That made no sense. My hand slid through my hair as though I were standing in the air itself, not immersed at the bottom of the sea.

My gaze lifted instinctively, hoping to see the familiar expanse of the blue sky.

And what I saw froze me.

Above me there was no sky. Instead, stretching as far as I could see, was a veil. A canopy of blood.

The ocean's surface had become a blanket of crimson, thick and suffocating. It rippled and churned like a living skin, moving with the rhythm of the sea—crashing, folding, trembling. A scarlet sky pressed down on me, drowning the world in its hue.

A second skin for the ocean. A red veil.

I had been in these waters for weeks, and yet this was the first time I had seen this phenomenon. This… grotesque, alien ceiling of blood.

And standing here, staring up at it, I could not tell if it was meant to protect… or to trap.