At dawn, the snowstorm had ceased and the feeble sun peeked through the vast white forest.

In the woods, Rosen trudged along the rugged mountain path blanketed in snow, struggling to keep up with the gray-robed sorcerer ahead. He wore a rabbit fur hat, a large rank beast skin coat, and oversized oxhide boots - looking akin to a dumpling lacking adequate filling.

Rosen carried an enormous trunk upon his back, taking labored steps through the snow. The leather straps dug painfully into his shoulders, creaking with each movement as if on the verge of snapping.

Yet the sorcerer strode swiftly ahead without pause, soon widening the gap between them. His icy words drifted back to Rosen: "Boy, walk faster. Don't make me wait for you."

"Yes, Master," Rosen quickened his pace.

The sorcerer immediately halted and glared at Rosen. "No, I'm not your master. Remember, you're just my porter. If you can't handle it, you can roll off whenever."

"I understand. How shall I address you then?"

"I'm called Celeus."

"Yes, Sir Celeus," Rosen promptly corrected himself, speaking most respectfully.

The trunk was heavy indeed, and the straps chafed his shoulders sorely, but Rosen's mature soul could endure it with ease.

Most vital was having a full belly and warm clothes - far better than the hunger and chill from the past month.

They continued on for half a day until Celeus grew weary and halted under a tree. "We'll rest here and eat something."

Rosen hastened forward and gently set the trunk down. After spreading a thick bear pelt on a relatively dry patch of earth, he said deferentially, "Please have a seat, Sir. I'll gather some firewood to build a campfire."

Celeus sat satisfied upon the fur. "Don't wander far. The Twilight Woods are unstable. I can't save you if bitten by venomous creatures."

"Of course, Sir Celeus."

Rosen swiftly scoured the vicinity, gathering an armful of dead branches. Taking up the flint stones, he lit a small fire before Celeus. "Sir, shall I boil you some water?"

Celeus shrugged indifferently. "Do as you wish."

Rosen retrieved the small clay pot from the pack, scooping up a mound of pristine snow to melt over the flames. As Celeus rested, Rosen busied himself preparing the water.

Soon it bubbled with steam. Rosen ladled a cup and presented it deferentially. After Celeus accepted, Rosen sliced smoked meat and roasted potatoes, offering them as well. "Please eat, Sir."

It was flawless service. Though Celeus said nothing, he was quite satisfied having the clever lad attend to his needs.

Once Celeus started eating, Rosen retreated to a corner with two potatoes, silently nibbling away. He didn't touch the tastier smoked meat at all.

Celeus noticed this with a raised brow. 'He knows his place.'

Halfway through the meal, Celeus suddenly spoke. "You mentioned last night you can paint?"

"Yes, Sir," Rosen instantly swallowed his half-chewed food.

A blank sheepskin scroll and feather quill floated out from the pack, landing before Rosen.

"Paint something for me to see."

Rosen was no fraud in this matter. Yet his true interest lay in magic - he naturally seized every chance to expand his mystical knowledge.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Feigning shock, he gaped at the floating implements. "Sir, is this magic?"

Celeus sneered contemptuously. "A real country bumpkin seeing the world. Just a petty trick."

Seeing Rosen's 'awestruck' expression, he deigned to explain. "It's Mage Hand, useless beyond grasping small objects."

Rosen was familiar with the name from Earth's fantasy novels. What truly intrigued him was the mechanics of magic.

But Celeus' patience was clearly limited, an overt annoyance marring his face.

Rosen took the hint and moved to accept the materials. As if recalling something, he muttered, "Can it open locks too?"

Celeus overheard, his face curling in disdain once more. "I knew you were born from a den of thieves, naturally inclined to wicked thoughts."

Yet he didn't refute Rosen's supposition.

Rosen dared not pry further. Taking up the quill and scroll, he solemnly invoked his desktop, selecting the necromancy screenshot to print.

The immaculate feather danced nimbly across the parchment, its tip seemingly endowed with a life of its own.

Celeus glanced over with a raised brow. "Interesting."

Seeing Rosen still engaged, he continued eating the smoked meat.

In about ten minutes, the necromantic scene vividly unfurled upon the scroll, perfectly replicating the photo save for color.

"It's done, Sir." Rosen respectfully presented the painting.

Celeus' eyes sharpened as he accepted the scroll, scrutinizing it closely while clicking his tongue in wonder. "Remarkable... Most remarkable. Were you formally tutored by a master painter?"

"No, Sir."

Celeus' expression chilled. "You best tell me the truth!"

Rosen 'earnestly' explained, "Truly not! I've loved painting since childhood, always striving to accurately recreate any scene that moved me, using charcoal on wood. It was difficult at first, but grew easier with time and practice."

To survive in this world, one must act. By adult standards, Rosen's skills were middling, but who would doubt the words of a fifteen-year-old boy?

Celeus was halfway convinced as he inspected the scroll again, then Rosen, murmuring, "Curious...most curious..."

After a lengthy silence, he abruptly asked, "Boy, have you seen beautiful women?"

"Huh?" Rosen froze, unsure how to respond. His past life was certainly experienced, yet he remained a virgin in this one. The mountain women were worn by hardship, even those with potential, thus 'beautiful' was doubtful. The most sensible reply was no.

Seeing his confusion, Celeus assumed the obvious. "Of course not. A backwoods lamb like you wouldn't know beauty."

Rosen's mind raced. At minimum, he hoped to leave the forest alive with Celeus. At best - apprenticeship to learn magic.

But the man clearly looked down on him. Perhaps his painting could change things.

"Well... the wolf Walder once captured a gorgeous lass. Her face was as lovely as a flower, enchanting all who saw her."

With Walder dead, there was no disproving this fabrication about 'years ago'.

Celeus' gaze sharpened with interest. "What happened to her?"

"She died. A horrific death in childbirth after screams that lasted a day and night. Walder was devastated, in a foul mood for weeks. Many were whipped for no reason, myself included. The pain lasted half a month."

Childbirth was perilous, her death unsurprising. Similar cases abounded in the old wolf pack.

Celeus didn't care about her fate, only asking, "Can you still recall her looks?"

"Absolutely." Rosen opened his archive, locating the Fantasy Photos subfolder under My Harem.

Within were Passably Pretty, Alluring, Rare Beauties, and National Stunners.

Judging quality, Rosen estimated beauty standards were low here. Even a plain Earth girl would shine. True fabled fairies likely ranked at least 6/10.

After brief consideration, he opened Passably Pretty and selected a tastefully shot photoset of a 5.5-6/10 girl as reference.

Sure enough, Celeus passed another sheet. "Paint her for me."

Rosen readily complied, deft strokes swiftly forming an emerald-clad maiden with delicate features and limpid doe eyes exuding allure.

Makeup and filters could elevate a 5 into a goddess. His model was far less stunning, but that mattered not.

Celeus' eyes flashed as he scrutinized the painting, breath visibly quickening.

Suddenly, he seized the severed head and punched it violently several times, cursing, "A pearl cast among swine! That bastard's luck!"

Gazing reluctantly back at the portrait, his eyes now smoldered as they returned to Rosen. "Your skill is outstanding, far beyond my expectations."

After pondering a moment, Celeus rose and kicked snow over the fire. Heaving the cumbersome pack onto his shoulders, "Let's go. Move quickly and we can clear the mountain before nightfall."

Rosen hurried after him. "Please, let me take that, Sir."

"No need. The morning was my test of you. You've proven obedient, hardy and honest - I'm very satisfied. From now on you're my sorcery apprentice. I'll teach you magic, but in exchange, you work for me."

Not waiting for a reply, he emphasized, "Remember - magic is what ignorant fools call sorcery."

"Sorcery is sorcery! It has no dealings with hellish devils. Sorcery is the path to the heavens for us mortals!"

'Path to the heavens?'

Rosen was intrigued, his yearning for sorcery deepening. "Yes, Master Celeus," he promptly amended.

As for Celeus' motive, Rosen doubted his sincerity. Nothing came free in life - all relations boiled down to mutual benefit.

Likely the exquisite erotica could fetch a fine price. Celeus clearly lacked money, explaining his dramatic change of attitude.

Rosen was just glad his archive had tangible value after all.