Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 274. Meeting Kainal
While mindlessly drifting through the tide of my own thoughts, I hadn't even noticed how far I'd wandered. It wasn't until the faint murmur of distant voices and the shifting silhouettes before me registered that I realized where I had come to a stop.
Spread out in front of me was the vibrant heart of Aquis Vanlur's city life. An expanse both strange and familiar—strange because of its alien nature, familiar because life, no matter where it bloomed, always carried the same rhythms.
Merfolks swam gracefully in every direction. Their faces, though diverse in shape and feature, carried the same breath of ordinary existence.
Some laughed brightly with their companions, voices bubbling in tones that resonated differently under the water. Others drifted slowly, their expressions distant, minds perhaps as adrift as mine was a moment ago.
The architecture around me was a marvel in itself. Coral towers interlaced with seashell mosaics rose like living sculptures, the clear and immaculate waters enhancing their natural luster.
Streams of tiny fish darted between the carved ridges, weaving life into the stillness of stone. The colours were soft yet radiant, as if the entire city had been painted with the brush of the ocean itself.
Here, the merfolk didn't just live—they basked in their world. Some lingered quietly on benches fashioned from polished shells, seated at the corners of the plaza.
Their gazes were fixed outward, eyes lost in the endless blue expanse beyond, or perhaps lowered to follow the dance of schools of smaller fish weaving intricate spirals around the reef.
But what truly drew the masses together was the temple.
Even in this lively district, it commanded attention with a weight that pressed into the water around it.
The structure was enormous, a chiseled edifice of coral and stone, rising higher than the surrounding buildings as though it wanted to pierce through the ocean's ceiling itself.
Its central design was unmistakable: hands, jutting upward from a vast pool of flowing water.
It was the symbol of their deity—the Red Sea.
If there was one thing the merfolk all seemed to agree upon, despite their ceaseless bickering and discrimination over tail colours, it was this shared reverence. No matter how divided they were among themselves, when it came to the Red Sea, they were united.
Even Wannre—cheeky, loud, and endlessly cocky Wannre—who seemed to mock everything else in existence, spoke of the Red Sea with an oddly sincere weight in her tone. If even she carried reverence, then the god's influence was absolute.
It was no mere cultural symbol. To them, the Red Sea was divinity incarnate, something vaster than their city, vaster than their lives, and demanding of respect as naturally as breathing water.
As I stood there, gazing at the temple, letting the sight settle in my mind, a voice broke the silence behind me.
"Are you perhaps interested in our religion, dear land-dweller?"
The voice was smooth, almost melodic, carrying a calming undertone that brushed against my ears. I turned slowly, pivoting in the water with care.
"Are there any similar faiths on land?" the figure continued, inclining their head ever so slightly. "May I have the pleasure of knowing the answer to that question?"
The owner of the voice was a merfolk—though unlike the others I had seen before. His tail was not the usual shimmering silver or aquamarine but a deep crimson like Wannre, glistening in the filtered light of the water like molten rubies.
A red tail merfolk. His presence was striking enough by itself, but it was his eyes that demanded attention. Narrow, slit-like pupils carved into pools of golden-green irises, as if some predator of the depths had taken human form.
He was beautiful, mesmerizing in the way all merfolk seemed to be, yet at the same time those eyes marked him as something different. Dangerous. Unique.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to steady itself under his piercing gaze. "There are… not,"
I began, carefully choosing my words. "Unfortunately, the land dwellers—humans, to be precise—do not follow any religion. We have no true faith. We live by our own hands, our own strength. Some might even say we are too arrogant, too self-absorbed, to kneel before an illusionary deity."
He stared at me for a heartbeat and then burst into laughter. A deep, rolling laugh that carried strangely well through the water.
As he laughed, he swam closer until his presence loomed directly before me. Then, with a casual familiarity, he reached out and placed his hand upon my shoulder.
"That is good," he said at last, still grinning. "Very good. But there is one thing you are wrong about, Mr. Land Dweller."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his grin grew sharper. "We do not worship an 'illusionary' deity. No… the Red Sea, our god, is no phantom conjured from blind faith. Our deity is real. A living entity. One you can see with your own two eyes."
As he spoke, he lifted his hand away from me and extended a single forefinger toward the heavens above. Or rather, to the vast expanse of crimson that stretched across the watery firmament—the Red Veil. That shifting, almost living curtain of scarlet light which shrouded the entirety of the Silver Sea.
I had seen that veil before. And I remembered, dimly, the sense of connection I had felt to it. Something subtle but undeniable, threading itself into my awareness.
Learning about the Red Sea had once been among the many things I intended to pursue. A mystery that demanded answers. But with Wannre crashing into my life and wrenching my course from its natural flow, all of that had been forgotten—shoved aside by circumstance.
Until now.
This encounter, this so-called 'random' merfolk who had swum up to me and struck conversation out of the blue… perhaps he was less random than he appeared. No, I was sure of it. Nothing about him felt coincidental.
Composing myself, I straightened my posture slightly and adopted a more courteous tone. "Sir, if I may ask… may I have the pleasure of knowing your good name?"
The merfolk chuckled softly at that, his sharp teeth flashing briefly. "Hahaha! Of course. I should have introduced myself sooner. That was my error."
He inclined his head slightly, not in deference, but in acknowledgment. "My name is Kainal Tolna. I hold a position among the officials of this sea, though that is beside the point."
I bowed my head in turn, the gesture deliberate and respectful. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Sir Tolna. But, if I may be bold, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence? I am not so presumptuous as to assume that a man of your stature would appear before me without reason. You must have some work for me."
Another booming laugh rolled out of him, hearty yet edged with something I could not quite place. "Hahaha! Sharp. Very sharp. You're right, of course. I did not come to you by chance. But I do not bring 'work' for you, not in the conventional sense. No… what I carry is an offer. An offer that serves both you and me, one that would tilt the future in our favor should you accept."
I met his gaze without flinching, my tone calm and void of any excess emotion. "That would depend entirely on the nature of your offer. To be fair, there are very few things capable of pleasing my heart. I am not the sort to be swayed easily. Some might even call me… heartless."
The moment the word left my lips, his expression shifted. The amusement bled away, replaced by a shadow that darkened his features.
His jaw stiffened slightly, and though his smile remained, it had lost its warmth. His eyes gleamed sharper, reptilian in their slitted focus.
"Heartless, you say?" His voice dropped lower, heavier. "Quite the jovial fellow you are, to make such declarations so openly. Still… it is good. Very good. A man who claims to have no heart, who feels nothing—such a man may indeed live freely, unburdened. But then again…"
His hand slid away from me, curling back to his side as his tone deepened. "A life without difficulties is no life at all, wouldn't you agree? And sometimes, difficulties are the only thing worth embracing."
