Replacing Warriors with Rubber Ducks!

Morning mist curled across the valley, carrying the earthy forest and mineral scent of our Sacred Spa. I was already plotting how to turn the Human Capital’s stiff throne room meeting into a full-blown sales pitch, when the ground began rumbling like a voracious Dragon.

Inside my core, I felt a sudden power surging with a double ding.

New [Ability: Underwater Breathing]!

New [Ability: Walk on Land]!

“This is–”

The forest surface hissed and roared, all building up to a giant WHOOOM!

A column of seawater shot sky-high, scattering rainbows across the cliffs. Out of the fountain burst a squad of familiar fishy jocks, their muscles shining with musky kelp and tails flapping.

“Ohhh, no way!” I gushed. “The Mermen!!”

They arced and landed on my highest diving board with an entrance that called for conch fanfare. “So, this is the all-famous Sacred Spa! Kazuki! Sharlotte! Your waters have reached the sea, friends!” The lead jock bellowed as he spotted us, his crown of pink coral sparkling. “The Abyssal Trident Council declares your spring sovereign neutral water. Our tides be your tides!”

“Aw man, it’s been a while! I wish we could high-five!”

Rin’s hands, already full from her heroic night shift, betrayed her immediately. Our Sacred Spa balance sheets... She turned into a tornado trying to catch them from touching the wet floor.

“My receptionist is clearly overwhelmed by the diplomatic weight of your pecs.” I chuckled.

“I see you’ve got the Sirens and everything! Even the port city of Crass is undergoing massive changes! Congrats!”

“Thanks, everything is going great! Our team was just preparing to head out to the Human Capital to demand an end to this war.”

“The war… right. It’s hard to believe that the Humans and Demon-kin are still fighting each other. I mean, just look around this place, I can’t help but feel like the result is inevitable.”

“That’s the problem. It’s been such a long war that fighting between Humans and Demon-kin has become the default setting. Kinda like a gacha game stuck in a content loop, same banners, same grind, nobody questions it anymore. Culture itself starts to calcify. And when things calcify, even obvious changes feel impossible. To break out of this, you need shocks to the system. In gacha terms, sometimes that’s ugly, like backlash when they nerf your favorite character into uselessness. But sometimes it’s good, like when pity and spark pulls were first added, when players realized, ‘wait… this doesn’t have to be pure suffering?’ It becomes the new status quo.”

“Pity pulls? I don’t understand half your words, Gemstone Dude.” A Merman jock chuckled. “But I feel the waves of what you mean. Shocks that force me to look up from the tide I thought was a killer wave to surf, and the rip pulls me under. That, I understand.”

“He means fairness.” Rin translated. “Like having a guaranteed pearl from an oyster after a hundred tries.”

“Ah! Yes. That does sound revolutionary.”

I bubbled in deep thought. “Right now, interspecies conflict is the culture. Our Spa is the shock. We’ve already proven that different species can relax together. But it’s still not enough to change the Kings’ minds. King Gremy and the Demon Lord are the last whales clinging to the old system.”

“We may be able to lend a helping hand with that.” The lead Merman’s coral crown glinted as he knelt in a knightly show of respect.

“Really? You’re too kind! I’m all ears.”

“Honestly, our Underwater Palace hasn’t taken action in centuries. Neutrality was our brand. But now,” He gestured at our Spa, where a Seraph and a Skeleton were arm-wrestling over a fruit slushie. “You’ve completely power-crept us.”

“Power-crept?!” I sparkled. “So, you’re saying our Spa’s the new meta?”

“Yes. Do you know how humbling it is? We had the exclusive claim on water-based diplomacy for ages. Abyssal hot vents, kelp buffets, synchronized dolphin choirs, you name it. Then you roll out hot stones and cloud pools, and suddenly the sea is gushing about your springs! Part of the reason we came here first was because we had to shut off access to your river due to the massive underwater crowds.”

“You’ve censored our Spa to the sea?” Sharlotte lifted from her towel raft. “But why?”

“Oh yeah, I was wondering why new Abilities weren’t pouring in fast. So much for a payoff for constantly flowing my waters all the way to Crass.”

“The closing off is only temporary. If we don’t ally with you, our businesses risk becoming obsolete, and the Mer-Queen doesn’t tolerate irrelevance.”

“Just when we were thinking of shaking up King Gremy’s throne room meeting, you come to us with a shock of our own. But maybe we can spin this to our advantage. No, we will. I’ve got just the plan! We’ll bounce this news to their court!”

By the time we reached the Human Capital, the Mermen’s splash and the growing peace at Crass had already raced ahead of us. Street vendors hawked “I Bathed with the Kraken” banners; bakers browned buns shaped like bath stones.

“You’re such a bastard.” Rin bounced.

“I prefer ‘excellent Master.’ It’s best that you keep wearing your outfit for this meeting. You love it. And it’ll cement the idea that you’ve found the place where you belong, despite it being interspecies.”

“Not this. My question is why we’re making our entrance into the Capital in this manner.”

“I’m done with bobbling in that cursed flask,” I answered. “It’s always a giant handicap!”

“Not that!!” Rin stomped. “Why are we charging in an attack on this giant ship?!”

We were on board a wooden missile with sails toward our destination, the Human King’s throne room. I had combined a whole arsenal of my Abilities to rocket Sharlotte, Rin, and me sky-high, aimed at the castle.

“The sailors didn’t need this warship anymore. We’re just borrowing it.”

“If you were willing to rely on others to make the meeting with King Gremey, wouldn’t reaching out to the Heroes or my father have made more sense?”

“Nah.” I grinned.

“You’re so petty!”

“And this isn’t an attack. It’s business. It’s called a splashy entrance. Hold tight! I’ll protect our landing!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

The whole side of the Human Capital’s castle exploded.

Rin’s Father, the Head Guild Auditor, protected his majesty from the rubble and our sleeping Angel bullet. “Rin! How wonderful you came to–” He noticed I was here. “Wait, have you lost your mind?!?!! You visit with him?!”

The throne room was a sea of marble and silk. King Gremy sat under a fresco that looked like it had been painted with gold leaf and panic from the artist due to guillotine threats. He was fat and had a tamed mustache. A passed-out Sharlotte rolled and crashed near his feet like a sleeping cat to a mafia boss.

The nobles in the room cowered less from our explosive entrance and more from how he would respond to our interruption. Honestly, King Gremy made the Demon Lord look more morally inclined. He pointed his scepter at me. “Dungeon Core Kazuki. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Rin’s Father bowed in quick response.

“You undermine our armies, corrupt our youth with shared bathtubs, and profit from war’s misery. And now you interrupt our policy meetings on how to discipline our defecting army? Explain yourself!!”

“Simple,” I said. “The war’s already over. You just haven’t got it through your thick head. The Demon Lord is ready to make peace as soon as you are.”

“Peace will cut your coffers. It would mean fewer limping soldiers, fewer desperate bodies crawling to your waters. You profit from wounds. Peace is ruin.”

Ah. The argument that war is profitable.

The King’s jaw worked. He’d landed the perfect fiscal dagger, and everyone expected him to keep twisting it.

Rin did something nobody expected. She slammed her wet ledger on the marble so hard that ink spattered. “Incorrect,” she said, her eyes bright with indignation and a hint of the day’s earlier heat. “Your Majesty, our recent bookings show the opposite. In peace, people bathe for fun, not for survival. Weddings, festivals, corporate retreats, honeymoon suites, repeat customers. We sell experience, not trauma.”

Murmurs swelled.

“And if I still refuse? If I march the armies tomorrow, what then?”

I nodded at Sharlotte, giving her the go-ahead.

“Sharlotte. Wake up. Wake up, you’re ruining our devastating blow!! I get that I promised a full week off after Reinhart, but I need you!”

Her face still buried and asleep, she pulled out a coral-sealed decree. The Abyssal Trident Council’s crest gleamed. The Underwater Palace’s signature ribbon curled like a tide.

“Recognition,” I said. “From the Underwater Palace. They declare the Sacred Spa neutral waters. That means the ports and the tides are now under their watch. Your rivers, your trade lanes… half of them answer to the sea.”

The throne room’s back row made sounds like someone dropping a tray. King Gremy’s grip on his scepter whitened.

“You intend to become a city-state?”

“You’re mad. You’re spinning what the letter shows verbatim. I’ve never had any intention of threatening either the Demon-kin or Human kingdoms’ territorial claims,” I said as the castle wall disintegrated behind me. “All we want is peace. And you don’t have a lot of time, Your Majesty,” I added. “Your champions are already defecting. Soldiers are taking leave to my springs. If you insist on assault, we won’t intervene or retaliate. We protest peacefully. Besides, you risk waking up to an empty army.”

Rin’s father let out a slow breath and set down his quill. “This… will force a summit.”

King Gremy scanned the court, the faces of nobles who managed franchises that sent us advertisement requests, to port merchants already wearing coral lapels. The rationale closed on him, but still, he resisted. “I shall not be dictated to by… bathhouses and a Monster.”

“You will be,” I said. “Because you can’t starve your people of life when life prefers interspecies peace. And ‘Monster?’ It’s almost better that you consider me to be one. Once people stop listening to conflicting standpoints, they stop progressing as a Human.”

King Gremy looked like a man whose favorite board game just had all the pieces removed and replaced with rubber ducks.

The summit of kings was scheduled for sunrise. The die was cast, and the war-economy patch had been pushed. The rest was just PR.