The winds had shifted.
After days at sea, battling storms and pirates alike, the sight of land on the horizon was a welcome one. Mondstadt—*the City of Freedom.* A place spoken of in hushed tones even in Inazuma, where the Raiden Shogun's rule allowed little room for such ideas.
Denzan stood at the helm, watching as the towering cliffs and rolling green fields of Mondstadt came into view. The salty scent of the ocean was slowly replaced by the crisp, fresh air of the mainland. Windmills turned lazily in the distance, dotting the landscape like silent sentinels of a land untouched by tyranny.
As his ship eased into the harbor, the bustling sounds of the docks reached his ears—merchants haggling, sailors shouting, bards strumming cheerful tunes. It was nothing like the tense, war-weary Resistance camps or the rigid structure of Inazuma City. Here, life moved freely, unchained.
*Freedom…*
He stepped off the gangplank, his boots hitting solid ground for the first time in weeks. His katana rested at his hip, and his pistol was secured beneath his coat, but for the first time in a long while, he felt no immediate need to draw them.
As he moved through the city streets, he took in the sights—the towering statue of Barbatos, the sprawling marketplace filled with scents of fresh bread and sweet cider, the lively chatter of knights and adventurers alike.
He had come here with purpose.
The rarest metals, the finest materials—Mondstadt had access to resources unavailable in Inazuma, and if he was to forge a weapon truly worthy of his power, he needed them. But more than that, he sought something less tangible.
Something he couldn't yet name.
"Hey, you!"
Denzan turned to see a blond-haired young man in a knight's uniform approaching, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. Behind him was a shorter girl with green eyes and an inquisitive expression.
"You're new here, aren't you?" the knight asked, crossing his arms. "Been keeping an eye on you since you docked. You're not from around Mondstadt, that's for sure."
Denzan smirked. "That obvious?"
The knight shrugged. "When you've been patrolling as long as I have, you start noticing things. Name's Jean—Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius."
Denzan raised an eyebrow. *Acting Grand Master?* That explained the authority in her voice.
The green-eyed girl beside her leaned forward. "I'm Sucrose! Are you a traveler? An adventurer? Or maybe…" Her gaze flickered to his weapons. "A mercenary?"
Denzan chuckled. "Depends who's asking."
Jean's expression remained steady. "Mondstadt welcomes travelers, but we also take our security seriously. No trouble, and we won't have any problems."
Denzan met her gaze, then nodded. "Fair enough. I'm just here to trade and see the world. No trouble."
Jean studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small nod. "Then enjoy your stay."
As she and Sucrose walked away, Denzan exhaled. He had expected more suspicion, more resistance. Instead, Mondstadt had simply… accepted him.
Freedom, indeed.
But as he turned toward the city's bustling marketplace, he felt something else in the air.
A presence.
A familiar one.
His sharp gaze scanned the crowd—until he spotted him.
A man in a dark coat, with fiery red hair and piercing eyes. He leaned against a wall, arms crossed, observing him with quiet intensity.
Denzan smirked. *Well, well… never thought I'd run into you here.*
Diluc.
*It's been a while.*
With an easy stride, Denzan approached, hands resting casually on his belt. "Didn't expect to see you here, Ragnvindr."
Diluc's expression didn't shift, but there was recognition in his eyes. "Nor did I expect to see you in Mondstadt." His gaze flickered to Denzan's weapons, lingering for a second on his katana. "Still carrying that?"
Denzan smirked. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't."
A short silence stretched between them—one not of awkwardness, but of unspoken understanding. They were both men shaped by conflict, by loss, by the weight of duty. But where Denzan had embraced the sea, Diluc had chosen the shadows of Mondstadt's underworld.
"Come," Diluc finally said, pushing off the wall. "I know a place where we can talk."
—---
The Angel's Share was warm and lively, filled with laughter and the rich scent of Dandelion Wine. But in a private corner of the tavern, away from the crowd, Denzan sat across from Diluc, a mug in his hand.
"So," Denzan said, taking a sip. "What's a man like you doing running a tavern?"
Diluc didn't react to the teasing. "It's a cover."
Denzan chuckled. "Figures." He leaned back. "I've heard whispers about Mondstadt's 'Darknight Hero.' Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Diluc's gaze sharpened slightly, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he turned the conversation. "What about you? Last I heard, you were with the Resistance. Yet now, you sail alone."
Denzan exhaled, setting his mug down. "The war in Inazuma isn't my only fight. I'm searching for something more—materials, knowledge, a purpose beyond just swinging a blade for someone else's cause." He glanced at his katana's sheath, where his Electro Vision pulsed faintly. "If I'm going to forge the greatest weapon, I need more than just Inazuman steel."
Diluc studied him for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, he nodded. "I understand."
Denzan raised an eyebrow. "You do?"
Diluc's fingers tapped lightly against his own glass. "I once sought strength beyond Mondstadt. Traveled far, trained under masters who knew things the Knights of Favonius never taught me." His voice lowered slightly. "Power is a tool. It is shaped by those who wield it. But it is purpose that makes it worth wielding."
Denzan smirked. "Didn't take you for the philosophical type."
Diluc didn't return the smirk, but there was the faintest glimmer of something—perhaps amusement, perhaps memory. "You're in Mondstadt now. What's your next move?"
Denzan considered that. "I need rare materials—something to push my craft beyond its limits. Heard any rumors?"
Diluc was silent for a moment. Then, he spoke. "There's something. A shipment coming through the mountains—relics and metals from Liyue, possibly something valuable."
Denzan's interest piqued. "Sounds promising."
Diluc met his gaze. "It's not an easy job. The route is dangerous. And there are others who may be watching it."
Denzan grinned, finishing his drink. "Good. It wouldn't be fun if it were easy."
The firelight flickered between them, casting long shadows. Two men, bound by different pasts, yet walking similar paths.
The hunt for the perfect blade had begun.