The next morning.

The Hound's Home Inn.

Perhaps feeling he had found a kindred spirit in misfortune, Harryk's mood was much calmer.

During breakfast, after finishing his chores, he sat down next to Chavalet with the ability to speak in a composed manner.

"First of all, if you two have nowhere else to stay, you're welcome to keep lodging here with me," he said.

"But with just 10 crowns, that will only cover your basic needs for three months. After that, you'll have to find your own way."

Chavalet tore off a large chunk of barley bread and chewed it noisily, mumbling through the doughy mouthful, "Don't worry, I'll be summoned by the lady soon enough, and then..."

His voice grew smaller and smaller until it faded away completely.

Because both Harryk's and Rosen's looks held a hint of mocking amusement, as if saying, 'Making it all up again, who's going to believe you?!'

"Uncle, I already know everything," Rosen said.

"Uhmm..." An uncharacteristic flush rose on Chavalet's plump, bewhiskered face as he lowered his head, not daring to meet Rosen's gaze.

After a pause, Rosen continued, "Uncle, I remember we found a piece of mithril too. That should be enough to get by for now, right?"

But instead of answering, Chavalet's face grew even redder as he lowered his head nearly into his lap, distractedly kneading the barley bread into a ball with his hands.

Seeing his childlike display of guilt, Rosen sighed again.

"When trying to impress the ladies, did you remember to remove the identifying marks from the mithril?"

Chavalet nodded emphatically.

"I sure did, I hacked that thing into pieces and reforged it so no one could recognize the original shape."

Reassured on this point, Rosen relaxed.

Sitting up straight, he tapped the table with his spoon and gave a little cough.

"I know there's no chance I can really study magic from the lady. But I still believe you're a man of your word, Uncle."

He meant this sincerely. Chavalet was flawed but fundamentally a decent person, an imperfect gentleman.

Trustworthy, but requiring great prudence when relying on him for important matters.

Chavalet seemed to grasp at this lifeline and nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, I am a good man! I've done some bad things, it's true, but overall I'm still good."

"There are quite a few accredited mages residing in Silvermoon City. Uncle, you can definitely find me a reliable tutor, right?"

"Naturally...naturally...it may be a bit difficult, but I guarantee I will make it happen. It's just...just..."

"Just what?" Rosen asked.

Chavalet didn't answer, merely lowering his head further in avoidance.

Harryk answered on his behalf, "Just that it will require money. A lot of money."

Rosen was not surprised in the least. His line of questioning was meant to elicit an admission of guilt from Chavalet, to prick his conscience.

He stared intently into Chavalet's eyes and said solemnly, "Uncle, those original 200 crowns were earned by our joint efforts, correct?"

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"Yes, that's right."

"Not to mention half, at least a quarter was due to my contribution, correct?"

"Well...without you we wouldn't have gotten that money at all."

Chavalet had a conscience after all.

"Yet now you've spent all my share too, and all of it on women and liquor."

Chavalet desperately clutched his head with both hands.

"Stop, stop! I promise I'll do my utmost to find you a tutor. But the money really is an issue. No accredited mage will spend time teaching an apprentice without pay."

Harryk also nodded, "Those accredited mages are all extremely shrewd. No, not shrewd, they're just blindly money-grubbing!"

What to do without money?

Obviously, find a way to earn it.

Rosen asked, "About how much do you think?"

"Hrmm...for basic instruction, at least 300 crowns. 100 crowns for books, then assisting with various chores for the tutor."

Rosen had a number in mind now: "Fine, then we'll keep selling paintings to earn money."

He said 'we' because he still needed Chavalet's protection, as a high-ranking knight and an Omisea to boot.

Otherwise, a child selling paintings alone would be akin to begging in the marketplace, almost certainly inviting misfortune.

On hearing about selling paintings, Chavalet's eyes immediately lit up. He clapped his hands loudly, "That's right! How could I forget something so important? You're a whiz kid when it comes to painting. What's there to worry about money?"

"Uncle, I can earn money through my own skills, that's not an excuse for you to shirk responsibility!"

"Yes, yes, of course! You can set your mind at ease, this time I absolutely guarantee I'll find you a tutor."

As Chavalet spoke, it seemed a thought occurred to him. He abruptly slapped his forehead, and his large eyes took on an odd, shrewd glint.

"Aha! I promise, I'll definitely find you a tutor, and maybe even save a bundle of money in the process."

Rosen didn't understand his meaning, but instinctively felt it didn't bode well.

Harryk immediately guessed his plan: "Chavalet, you can't be thinking of asking her?"

Rosen quickly asked, "Her? Who is she?"

But Harryk had already begun shaking his head repeatedly.

"Chavalet, this is absolutely a terrible idea! That woman is a pure lunatic! She'll lead Rosen astray!"

Chavalet dismissed his concerns with a wave of his pudgy hand, "Don't worry. It'd definitely be bad news with anyone else, but Rosen's got a clear head on his shoulders!"

On this point, though he hadn't known Rosen long, Harryk shared the sentiment. But he still didn't think it a wise course.

"I'd rather play it safe. You've already ruined my life, I don't want to see this lad deprived of a bright future too."

Chavalet ignored him and turned to look at Rosen.

"If a genius mid-level mage agreed to tutor you, possibly waiving your tuition fee, and this tutor happened to be extremely beautiful and lusty, maybe even offering her body for pleasure, would you accept?"

Speaking this way, Chavalet's face took on a greasy leer as his eyes shone with deep infatuation, seemingly picturing rolling in bed with the mage.

Rosen grimaced, "Uncle, I'm looking for a tutor, not a whore!"

"Now, now, don't get ahead of yourself. She definitely won't force you if you're unwilling. Given just the earlier conditions, would you accept?"

Rosen asked solemnly, "Then what would be the cost?"

Harryk laughed at this, "Very good, I can rest easy now. This lad isn't so easily duped after all."

With guests arriving, he got up to receive them.

Lowering his voice due to the outsider presence, Chavalet said, "The cost is that this tutor has an eccentric personality, often saying and doing peculiar things."

"Sometimes she can even seem a bit frightening. But only frightening, with no real danger."

"For example?"

"For instance, she might spend an entire day repeatedly arranging pieces of transparent glass, mumbling incessantly that the world doesn't actually exist, it's all just a dream."

"And spouting oddities like 'I think therefore I am, I am therefore the world is.' Also saying when she opens her eyes, the world comes into meaning, when she closes them, the world recedes into darkness."

"In short, although a magical prodigy, something in her mind is definitely amiss."

After listening, Rosen remained silent for a time.

Chavalet asked, "Well, what do you say?"

"Let it be her then. I'll leave it to you Uncle."

A mid-level mage with unconventional thinking must be either a genius or a madwoman. If willing to impart magical knowledge, there would surely be much to learn.

Chavalet slapped his hands together, "Excellent, it's decided! I'll go find her after finishing my meal."

He tore off pieces of the barley bread and shoved it all into his mouth at once, washing it down with a huge gulp of ale. After hastily chewing and swallowing, he said:

"Buurp! I'm off to look for her now. Oh right, nearly forgot to mention something."

He looked at Rosen, and his gaze took on a crafty gleam once more.

"I can only try my best to persuade her, no guarantees of success."

"If she agrees, she may waive the tuition fee. But as her apprentice, providing for your tutor to live decently would be your basic duty."

"So we'll still need to earn money diligently."

Rosen nodded, "I understand. The mage is also destitute, correct?"

Chavalet scratched his head awkwardly, "Hehe, no one likes dealing with a lunatic after all."

After a pause he added, "That woman is rather fond of painting too. She says artists are the demiurges who imagine the world into being."

"You could try winning her favor with your skill. Get her in a good mood, and she'll toss all worldly taboos aside."

Rosen nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Alright, I'm off to find her now."

Chavalet downed the rest of his ale in one gulp and hurriedly left the Hound's Home.