Leon strolled through the bustling streets of Mondstadt, his eyes quietly scanning the countless drunks scattered along the cobblestones. With each sluggish step they took, his belief in the necessity of his strict governance only grew stronger.
In both his previous life and this one, he had never seen a city quite like Mondstadt.
During the day, its citizens lazed about without a care in the world. But as soon as night fell, they would all rush toward the taverns, eager to drown themselves in alcohol until they collapsed in blissful unconsciousness.
"They look like a horde of zombies…" Leon muttered under his breath.
Watching the staggering rhythm of the drunken crowd, he could barely restrain the urge to beat some sense into them.
"I've heard people say that Mondstadters are addicted to alcohol, but I didn't think it was this bad. How can public safety even function in a city where everyone's drunk?"
Alcohol, Leon thought, was a poison that eroded reason. It loosened restraint, stirred buried impulses, and inflamed emotion — that's why people called it "liquid courage." But it wasn't courage at all. It was simply the temporary death of rationality, the numbing of the mind's brakes.
And a world without reason was nothing short of chaos. That was the true nature of drink.
Watching the zombie-like drunks stumble through the streets, Leon decided that some form of restriction on alcohol consumption might soon be necessary.
"Well then," he murmured, pushing open the door of Mondstadt's most famous tavern, "let's see if the wine here truly lives up to the legend."
The name of the tavern: The Angel's Share.
It was said to have been founded by the last surviving descendant of the once-noble Ragnvindr family — a house brought to ruin by the tyrannical Lawrence clan. Their title had been stripped, their wealth shattered. The last heir, Diluc Ragnvindr, had used what little remained to open this tavern… and against all odds, it had flourished.
The moment Leon stepped inside, the lively noise of the room instantly quieted.
"Isn't that His Highness Leon?!"
"Your Majesty, you've come to drink too?"
"Diluc! Bring out the best wine you've got for the prince himself!"
"Haha! I'm drinking with His Highness tonight — I can brag about this for years!"
"I wonder how much His Highness can handle…"
Leon took in the lively atmosphere, amused.
Usually, he drank in the comfort of his castle — surrounded by his beloved companions, soft candlelight, and gentle music. But here, the air was thick with laughter, chatter, and the smell of aged wood and ale. It was crude, chaotic… yet strangely refreshing.
At that moment, a tall man with crimson hair approached.
Though Leon could feel the fiery aura of Pyro around him, his demeanor was cold — almost glacial. His movements were calm and his expression unshaken, with an elegance that set him apart from the rest of the crowd.
This was Diluc Ragnvindr, the owner of The Angel's Share.
Leon raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued.
Despite owning the busiest tavern in the city, Diluc had no trace of alcohol on him — his eyes were clear, his posture upright. It was obvious he either didn't drink at all, or did so very sparingly.
"Welcome, Prince Leon," Diluc said evenly. "May I ask what you'd like to drink?"
"I've heard Mondstadt's wine is the best in the kingdom," Leon replied. "And that yours, in particular, is unmatched. Bring me your finest."
Diluc inclined his head. "Understood. Please wait a moment, Your Highness."
With practiced grace, he reached for two cocktail shakers, his wrists moving with precise, fluid motions as he mixed the ingredients.
Just watching him work, Leon could tell — this man was a master of his craft.
Around them, the tavern's patrons began to buzz with excitement — especially the women.
"Wow, what a sight! Two handsome men behind the counter!"
"This is the best night ever! With faces like that, I could drink an entire barrel of cider!"
"Hiss~! His Highness is even more gorgeous! Think he'd let me buy him a drink?"
Leon merely chuckled softly and ignored the drunken chatter.
He knew better than to respond — a single word would only invite chaos. Alcohol dulled judgment, and most of these women had already surrendered theirs to their cups.
A lesson for young men everywhere: always protect yourself when you go out.
In Mondstadt, after all, it wasn't rare for drunk women to wake up the next morning in some stranger's bed.
Leon had refined tastes — he was used to the rarest delicacies life could offer. Why would he ever settle for leftovers devoured by the masses?
Soon, Diluc placed a glass before him.
"This is our Dandelion Wine. Please, have a taste, Your Highness."
"Alright," Leon said, lifting the glass.
Paired with a few light snacks, the experience was genuinely pleasant. He had to admit — Diluc's bartending was superb, and Mondstadt's wine truly lived up to its reputation.
When he finished, Leon licked his lower lip slightly, savoring the lingering flavor.
"Not bad. In fact… excellent," he said. "That's the best wine I've ever had. From now on, I'll be purchasing directly from your tavern."
"It's an honor, Your Highness," Diluc replied politely.
"Good. I may not visit Mondstadt often, but when I do, I'll make sure to stop by for a drink."
Leon squinted slightly at his own reflection in a nearby mirror, noting the faint redness on his cheeks. With a small smile, he pushed away the final glass in front of him.
He'd had enough.
Diluc's eyes flickered with mild surprise.
He had assumed that the prince, like the others, was here to indulge — but Leon's restraint told another story.
"Your Highness possesses remarkable self-control," Diluc said.
Leon chuckled. "Heh, really?"
He shrugged and shook his head.
For him, it was hard to measure his own discipline. At times, he was coldly rational — like a machine. But there were also moments when he let instinct take over completely, transforming into something primal, emotional, untamed.
The first side came out when facing enemies.
The second… mostly in bed.
As for why he refused the last drink? The answer was simple.
"Unfortunately," Leon said, his smile widening slightly, "no one here is worthy of seeing me drunk."
"…I see."
Diluc was silent for a moment — then smirked faintly and raised his own glass, downing it in one go.
The entire tavern gasped.
"Did… did Diluc just drink?!"
Leon snapped his fingers. In an instant, thousands of gold coins materialized from thin air and landed neatly on the counter.
Diluc immediately understood.
"The drinks tonight are on Prince Leon!" he announced.
"YEEAAAAHH!!"
The tavern erupted in wild cheers. Cups clinked, cider splashed, and songs filled the air once more.
None of them realized that the very prince they were toasting so enthusiastically was already planning to enforce strict new liquor laws… and raise their alcohol tax tenfold.
(End of Chapter)