Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
However, a trading company was not such a simple beast. Trading involved special knowledge and acquaintances in numerous places—things one did not acquire in a single day. Surely there were not many people they could find to replace Hilde, let alone the owner of Debau.
In that sense, Lawrence did not think they would be killed so lightly.
However, it could be done at any time. One light swing of a sword and a man's head would fall. He knew well from public executions in the towns he had visited what a mysteriously easy thing it was.
As he gazed out the window, he had no sense of being watched by anyone, but as he was not Holo, he did not want to put much faith in that.
Having nowhere else to go, with all others having left, he remained in his room.
Besides, clumsily moving about the town would backfire if Hilde did want to make contact with Lawrence.
The situation was bad. It was better to leave town while he still could. He was separated far from Holo, but if he left word at this and that town he would no doubt meet her again in no time.
But he wanted to meet with Hilde before that, even if only for a brief moment. He did not want to speak of plans to strike back. Lawrence had neither the intellect nor the courage for such a thing. If he could, he wanted to persuade Hilde to flee without attempting anything rash.
Even though Hilde was a Debau Company insider, he was a comrade of Holo's in a broad sense. Lawrence thought he wanted to save Hilde all the more because, morality-wise, Hilde too wanted to bring peace and tranquility to this land. For Hilde, fighting for his own ideals, to continue to fight until death after having lost any chance of victory would not be an amusing tale to anyone's ears.
That being the case, he thought it better for Hilde to escape with at least his life and aim to recover later.
More than anything, if Hilde did not perish, Holo would not have to see yet another ember from her own era extinguished.
To Lawrence, that was more important than anything else.
It was then that he heard a sound from downstairs.
Since the Myuri Mercenary Company had rented the entirety of the inn, the inn's owner and servants, which would ordinarily be occupying the building, were staying at a nearby residence. Now that the mercenaries renting the inn were gone, there should not have been anyone there.
That being the case, the potential visitors were very few.
Lawrence adjusted his collar, cleared his throat a little, double-checked the location of his dagger, and left the room.
The inn felt much colder without any people in it.
His breath was turning white, making him realize all over again just how much a building was warmed by the people inside it.
As his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he went downstairs without a candlestick.
As he heard small sounds, the sound of his heart grew heavier.
When Lawrence moved to leisurely head out through the first-floor tavern, he sensed a faint light coming from the hallway that continued to the rear entrance. When he headed that way, the door of the back entrance was slightly ajar.
It was difficult for him to believe that in an inn rented by a mercenary company even keener eyed than a merchant, someone would have just forgotten to close the door. Lawrence stayed put and thought about it for a while when he finally noticed something white in the corner of his vision.
"Mr. Hilde?"
To the side of the rear entrance was a storage shed without a door.
When Lawrence called out in a low voice, a single hare appeared without hesitation.
However, the hare was not uniformly white. There was an incision from a stab behind the shoulder of his front right leg, leaving his fur ripped. His right forepaw was as crimson as if it had been dipped in a vat of dye.
Lawrence did not need to ask what had happened.
"Mr. Hilde, are you all right?"
"Yes...I have not been killed, at the least."
The hare's face remained impassive as a falsely brave smile came over Lawrence.
"What's the situation?"

Output:
There was no mistaking the fact that he was on the run.
"The radicals have seized complete power. They have forced the signature of a document transferring all authority. I and my master have lost power. However, they know it will be difficult to manage the company without us. I believe it is not likely they will kill us."
That perfectly matched Lawrence's expectations.
The words that came next did, too.
"However, I am not giving up." As Hilde spoke, he turned around and hopped, dragging his leg, going inside the shed.
He returned right away, holding a sealed scroll in his mouth.
"Also considering that Miss Holo will obtain the book, I must not give up now."
"...What do you intend to do?" Lawrence inquired.
The Debau Company possessed silver and copper bountiful enough, it was as if they flowed right out of a well. Even with Holo, this was absolutely not an opponent Lawrence could take on, all the more so now with it filled with fervor and vigor. He wondered how one might fight the lords among their allies.
"If one leaves this town and heads northeast along roads passing through the mountains, there is a town there called Svernel."
When Lawrence thought about it, he realized he had heard the name of that town from Luward's lips.
"Svernel is one of the few towns to oppose us until the bitter end. As wool and amber circulate through it, they no doubt believe they will lose their position. Also, it occupies a critical position geographically, so it is an easy place for those who see us as enemies to gather together. So, please..."
With that, Hilde used his nose to push the sealed scroll at his feet toward Lawrence.
"...deliver this there. It contains a request for aid in stopping the radicals."
On the theory that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, no doubt.
However, Lawrence hesitated to agree to it.
"My bird comrade knows that Svernel was my fallback plan. It is not likely he would be separated from Miss Holo. Ah yes, I do have another letter as well."
Hilde looked at Lawrence as he spoke.
He seemed to be mistaking Lawrence's hesitation for wondering why there were two letters.
"There is a lord farther north of Svernel who is uncooperative with us. Nearly all of the lords in that area are against us. They cannot cooperate with those who ravage the land and who bring about change, they say. Once they hear of the radicals, they may well rise up."
It was precisely because these lords had not buckled to the Debau Company's overwhelming power and momentum that made them reassuring allies for bringing the current Debau Company to heel. Certainly, that way of thinking might well be correct; at the very least, Lawrence thought it might serve as something to cling to in this situation.
However, despite the smile on Hilde's face after he spoke, his expression looked close to tears.
His heart broken, Hilde had been worn down to the point it was astounding he had not given up.
"I beg you, Mr. Lawrence. Deliver these letters to Svernel. And with Miss Holo, please shatter the momentum of the radicals."
Hilde's right foreleg seemed to have lost nearly all its strength.
That was why the attitude he took seemed extremely unnatural before Lawrence's eyes.
What made Lawrence wince was how he looked like a man with business left unfinished, clinging to this world even after death. It looked like the matter had already been completely decided. If he was to follow the logic as a merchant, it was absolutely impossible to turn this situation around.
There were no other words that he should have been saying.
But no words came out at all.
Persuading someone of something meant changing their way of thinking.
He did not think any half-baked persuasion would have a chance of success against someone well and truly prepared to die.
And yet, faced with someone unafraid of death and resolved to die for his beliefs, Lawrence was unable to accept Hilde's letters.
He could not irresponsibly get drawn into the other side's tale.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
There was no mistaking the fact that he was on the run.
"The radicals have seized complete power. They have forced the signature of a document transferring all authority. I and my master have lost power. However, they know it will be difficult to manage the company without us. I believe it is not likely they will kill us."
That perfectly matched Lawrence's expectations.
The words that came next did, too.
"However, I am not giving up." As Hilde spoke, he turned around and hopped, dragging his leg, going inside the shed.
He returned right away, holding a sealed scroll in his mouth.
"Also considering that Miss Holo will obtain the book, I must not give up now."
"...What do you intend to do?" Lawrence inquired.
The Debau Company possessed silver and copper bountiful enough, it was as if they flowed right out of a well. Even with Holo, this was absolutely not an opponent Lawrence could take on, all the more so now with it filled with fervor and vigor. He wondered how one might fight the lords among their allies.
"If one leaves this town and heads northeast along roads passing through the mountains, there is a town there called Svernel."
When Lawrence thought about it, he realized he had heard the name of that town from Luward's lips.
"Svernel is one of the few towns to oppose us until the bitter end. As wool and amber circulate through it, they no doubt believe they will lose their position. Also, it occupies a critical position geographically, so it is an easy place for those who see us as enemies to gather together. So, please..."
With that, Hilde used his nose to push the sealed scroll at his feet toward Lawrence.
"...deliver this there. It contains a request for aid in stopping the radicals."
On the theory that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, no doubt.
However, Lawrence hesitated to agree to it.
"My bird comrade knows that Svernel was my fallback plan. It is not likely he would be separated from Miss Holo. Ah yes, I do have another letter as well."
Hilde looked at Lawrence as he spoke.
He seemed to be mistaking Lawrence's hesitation for wondering why there were two letters.
"There is a lord farther north of Svernel who is uncooperative with us. Nearly all of the lords in that area are against us. They cannot cooperate with those who ravage the land and who bring about change, they say. Once they hear of the radicals, they may well rise up."
It was precisely because these lords had not buckled to the Debau Company's overwhelming power and momentum that made them reassuring allies for bringing the current Debau Company to heel. Certainly, that way of thinking might well be correct; at the very least, Lawrence thought it might serve as something to cling to in this situation.
However, despite the smile on Hilde's face after he spoke, his expression looked close to tears.
His heart broken, Hilde had been worn down to the point it was astounding he had not given up.
"I beg you, Mr. Lawrence. Deliver these letters to Svernel. And with Miss Holo, please shatter the momentum of the radicals."
Hilde's right foreleg seemed to have lost nearly all its strength.
That was why the attitude he took seemed extremely unnatural before Lawrence's eyes.
What made Lawrence wince was how he looked like a man with business left unfinished, clinging to this world even after death. It looked like the matter had already been completely decided. If he was to follow the logic as a merchant, it was absolutely impossible to turn this situation around.
There were no other words that he should have been saying.
But no words came out at all.
Persuading someone of something meant changing their way of thinking.
He did not think any half-baked persuasion would have a chance of success against someone well and truly prepared to die.
And yet, faced with someone unafraid of death and resolved to die for his beliefs, Lawrence was unable to accept Hilde's letters.
He could not irresponsibly get drawn into the other side's tale.

Output:
As Lawrence made no move, Hilde called out his name. "Mr. Lawrence."
Lawrence suddenly regained his senses and looked at Hilde.
The wounded Hilde looked up at Lawrence, his face expressionless as he spoke.
"Do you believe the conflict is already decided?"
As Hilde had seen right through him to the core of his being, Lawrence could not smooth over his expression.
However, Hilde only strengthened his tone even further.
"I have encountered many crises thus far and have overcome them all, you see. I will overcome this one as well. Though this time..." He glanced behind his shoulder. "...the odds are particularly poor."
On Lawrence's travels with Holo, Lawrence had seen a number of situations where there had been no visible option but to give up. Even so, he was here now because he absolutely had not given up; had his being bad at surrender ever backfired, he might well be on a slave ship or in the ground right now.
He thought himself rather conceited in wanting to use logic to dissuade another from digging his heels in.
Hilde was without doubt the main character of Hilde's tale. He had conquered all difficulties so far, having earned his great successes. So it was natural Hilde would think, I shall not yield to this difficulty, either.
But for the first time, Lawrence felt how cruel this looked when viewed objectively.
He knew it was already too late for Hilde. The only one who did not know it was him, still believing that the goddess of fortune was on his side.
Lawrence averted his eyes, for he could not hold onto the words he should have spoken.
"I decided I would move forward with Debau, that I would absolutely not stray from the path, come what may. Perhaps that makes an idiot of me, but I think it just fine nonetheless."
Hearing such resolve put him in a corner. Lawrence lifted a hand to restrain him.
Hilde did not retreat an inch.
"I strive to know how difficult it is to survive just for the sake of surviving. It is the same as being alone in all the world. Mr. Lawrence, I believe that you understand the meaning of these words. That is why you and Miss Holo, in human form—"
"Please stop." As Hilde halted his words, Lawrence said once again, "Please stop. There are things one can cooperate with and things one cannot. That applies even between Holo and I."
He understood Hilde's feelings in absolutely not wanting to give in, but Lawrence had praised Holo for giving up so many things.
Giving things up was essential and in no way made one a beaten dog.
There truly are things one must give up to be able to move forward.
He wondered which held true in Hilde's instance.
Lawrence and Hilde stared firmly at each other.
"Please take care of the letters."
That was all Hilde said before hopping off.
Lawrence did not budge an inch even now, moving only his mouth.
"I won't accept them."
For a moment, those words stopped Hilde in his tracks, but in the end, he resumed hopping off without turning. Lawrence wondered how many allies Hilde had amid this overwhelming, sudden reversal of fortune. There probably was not anyone left who could take that letter to Svernel.
As Hilde's small body wobbled, he vanished out of the gap of the back entrance's door through which a red light filtered. The door gently closed, and all that remained were the two letters and silence. Lawrence did not think delivering them would change the state of the battle; if he was not careful, the Debau Company would have his head removed as a saboteur.
However, to simply deliver them was no impossible thing.
Lawrence thought as much but shook his head and told himself to think clearly. If he was to deliver the letters, what advantage was there for him? What was it that he could lose? Everything could be thought of in terms of loss and gain, and that's how he needed to think.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
As Lawrence made no move, Hilde called out his name. "Mr. Lawrence."
Lawrence suddenly regained his senses and looked at Hilde.
The wounded Hilde looked up at Lawrence, his face expressionless as he spoke.
"Do you believe the conflict is already decided?"
As Hilde had seen right through him to the core of his being, Lawrence could not smooth over his expression.
However, Hilde only strengthened his tone even further.
"I have encountered many crises thus far and have overcome them all, you see. I will overcome this one as well. Though this time..." He glanced behind his shoulder. "...the odds are particularly poor."
On Lawrence's travels with Holo, Lawrence had seen a number of situations where there had been no visible option but to give up. Even so, he was here now because he absolutely had not given up; had his being bad at surrender ever backfired, he might well be on a slave ship or in the ground right now.
He thought himself rather conceited in wanting to use logic to dissuade another from digging his heels in.
Hilde was without doubt the main character of Hilde's tale. He had conquered all difficulties so far, having earned his great successes. So it was natural Hilde would think, I shall not yield to this difficulty, either.
But for the first time, Lawrence felt how cruel this looked when viewed objectively.
He knew it was already too late for Hilde. The only one who did not know it was him, still believing that the goddess of fortune was on his side.
Lawrence averted his eyes, for he could not hold onto the words he should have spoken.
"I decided I would move forward with Debau, that I would absolutely not stray from the path, come what may. Perhaps that makes an idiot of me, but I think it just fine nonetheless."
Hearing such resolve put him in a corner. Lawrence lifted a hand to restrain him.
Hilde did not retreat an inch.
"I strive to know how difficult it is to survive just for the sake of surviving. It is the same as being alone in all the world. Mr. Lawrence, I believe that you understand the meaning of these words. That is why you and Miss Holo, in human form—"
"Please stop." As Hilde halted his words, Lawrence said once again, "Please stop. There are things one can cooperate with and things one cannot. That applies even between Holo and I."
He understood Hilde's feelings in absolutely not wanting to give in, but Lawrence had praised Holo for giving up so many things.
Giving things up was essential and in no way made one a beaten dog.
There truly are things one must give up to be able to move forward.
He wondered which held true in Hilde's instance.
Lawrence and Hilde stared firmly at each other.
"Please take care of the letters."
That was all Hilde said before hopping off.
Lawrence did not budge an inch even now, moving only his mouth.
"I won't accept them."
For a moment, those words stopped Hilde in his tracks, but in the end, he resumed hopping off without turning. Lawrence wondered how many allies Hilde had amid this overwhelming, sudden reversal of fortune. There probably was not anyone left who could take that letter to Svernel.
As Hilde's small body wobbled, he vanished out of the gap of the back entrance's door through which a red light filtered. The door gently closed, and all that remained were the two letters and silence. Lawrence did not think delivering them would change the state of the battle; if he was not careful, the Debau Company would have his head removed as a saboteur.
However, to simply deliver them was no impossible thing.
Lawrence thought as much but shook his head and told himself to think clearly. If he was to deliver the letters, what advantage was there for him? What was it that he could lose? Everything could be thought of in terms of loss and gain, and that's how he needed to think.

Output:
Hilde no doubt thought that if the Debau Company's advance on Svernel could be temporarily halted, gaps would arise that could be exploited. When steel cools, it is far more difficult to work it into the shape one desires. And weighing profit and loss doing business in swords and shields was everyday work for Hilde and his ilk. If it were so, the Debau Company might well be put back in its sheath.
However, all of this depended on talk like "maybe" and "therefore." In the present situation, it was abundantly clear just how much of a dream the town was. Hilde and Debau's hopes would be smashed, the utopia they had given birth to trampled under the feet of soldiers. In this world, not everyone's dreams could come true. It pained Lawrence, too. It was unfortunate.
Hilde and Debau had failed before reaching the very last step.
It was idiotic to cling to one's expectations like this. No matter how magnificent and sublime the story had been, surely it could not be more important than their lives.
Lawrence closed his fists, left the letters as they were, and walked away. With negotiations having broken down, all Lawrence could do was to rendezvous with the Myuri Mercenary Company and make himself at least a tiny bit safer.
That was the correct choice; there was nothing mistaken about it whatsoever.
He was not saying every single ember that threatened him had to be snuffed out, but there was no reason to toss himself into the cauldron of hell. There was every possibility that surrendering the forbidden book would backfire. Furthermore and most importantly, Lawrence and Holo had no reason to place themselves directly in danger. Quite the contrary, carrying the letters to Svernel looked without hope, and such action would put him at direct personal risk.
Logically, everything added up; Holo would surely agree.
If there was nothing that could be done, surely it meant he needed to give up, make his escape, and live for the future.
However, the more distance Lawrence put between himself and the storage shed, the more painful his heart grew and the heavier his steps.
He was of course painfully aware of what the cause was.
It went without saying once more that, just as if one had something they must do but had no time to do it, being unable to trust someone meant being all alone in the world.
A traveling merchant wanted a store of his own because he wanted a physical place he could call home. He wanted something to serve as the result of his successes.
And above all else, he wanted a store to leave behind after he passed away; if a person had someone they trusted to succeed them, there surely existed no better way to move on in peace.
Lawrence knew how marvelous such good fortune was. He was frighteningly aware of just how trusting someone and being trusted by that someone provided the fuel to live on.
And now Hilde had probably lost both.
The hare on the run wanted to say this to Lawrence: It is unfair for only you to be happy.
"Shit."
Lawrence spat it out. It was as though Hilde had cast a curse upon him.
If Lawrence had been able to be happy while watching the happiness of others die, he would likely have been a merchant with a bit more money.
As he returned to his room and put his belongings in order, he felt like his body was being ripped apart. Even so, he clenched his teeth, telling himself that giving up was the right decision here.
He could not stop for someone bringing himself to the point of death.
Hilde was prepared to die for the sake of the dream in his heart; that was indeed his wish.
For but a single moment, Lawrence had become intermingled with Holo's tragic story and so had come to cooperate with her.
He had been swept about right and left as a minor character on the stage; this did not bother him.
He was a merchant. He knew well enough what happened sooner or later to merchants that did not follow calculations of loss and profit.
He reminded himself of this as he packed up his things and moved to leave the room.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Hilde no doubt thought that if the Debau Company's advance on Svernel could be temporarily halted, gaps would arise that could be exploited. When steel cools, it is far more difficult to work it into the shape one desires. And weighing profit and loss doing business in swords and shields was everyday work for Hilde and his ilk. If it were so, the Debau Company might well be put back in its sheath.
However, all of this depended on talk like "maybe" and "therefore." In the present situation, it was abundantly clear just how much of a dream the town was. Hilde and Debau's hopes would be smashed, the utopia they had given birth to trampled under the feet of soldiers. In this world, not everyone's dreams could come true. It pained Lawrence, too. It was unfortunate.
Hilde and Debau had failed before reaching the very last step.
It was idiotic to cling to one's expectations like this. No matter how magnificent and sublime the story had been, surely it could not be more important than their lives.
Lawrence closed his fists, left the letters as they were, and walked away. With negotiations having broken down, all Lawrence could do was to rendezvous with the Myuri Mercenary Company and make himself at least a tiny bit safer.
That was the correct choice; there was nothing mistaken about it whatsoever.
He was not saying every single ember that threatened him had to be snuffed out, but there was no reason to toss himself into the cauldron of hell. There was every possibility that surrendering the forbidden book would backfire. Furthermore and most importantly, Lawrence and Holo had no reason to place themselves directly in danger. Quite the contrary, carrying the letters to Svernel looked without hope, and such action would put him at direct personal risk.
Logically, everything added up; Holo would surely agree.
If there was nothing that could be done, surely it meant he needed to give up, make his escape, and live for the future.
However, the more distance Lawrence put between himself and the storage shed, the more painful his heart grew and the heavier his steps.
He was of course painfully aware of what the cause was.
It went without saying once more that, just as if one had something they must do but had no time to do it, being unable to trust someone meant being all alone in the world.
A traveling merchant wanted a store of his own because he wanted a physical place he could call home. He wanted something to serve as the result of his successes.
And above all else, he wanted a store to leave behind after he passed away; if a person had someone they trusted to succeed them, there surely existed no better way to move on in peace.
Lawrence knew how marvelous such good fortune was. He was frighteningly aware of just how trusting someone and being trusted by that someone provided the fuel to live on.
And now Hilde had probably lost both.
The hare on the run wanted to say this to Lawrence: It is unfair for only you to be happy.
"Shit."
Lawrence spat it out. It was as though Hilde had cast a curse upon him.
If Lawrence had been able to be happy while watching the happiness of others die, he would likely have been a merchant with a bit more money.
As he returned to his room and put his belongings in order, he felt like his body was being ripped apart. Even so, he clenched his teeth, telling himself that giving up was the right decision here.
He could not stop for someone bringing himself to the point of death.
Hilde was prepared to die for the sake of the dream in his heart; that was indeed his wish.
For but a single moment, Lawrence had become intermingled with Holo's tragic story and so had come to cooperate with her.
He had been swept about right and left as a minor character on the stage; this did not bother him.
He was a merchant. He knew well enough what happened sooner or later to merchants that did not follow calculations of loss and profit.
He reminded himself of this as he packed up his things and moved to leave the room.

Output:
"Ho, what's this?"
Lawrence instantly understood that the man was rather drunk from his stupidly, pointlessly loud voice. Though that was nothing remarkable in a town in such high spirits, what sounded strange to his ears was what followed afterward.
"Hey, this is great. Ya found a great thing here, lad."
"Grace of God, huh? This'll make a great souvenir."
"A tasty-lookin' hare, ain't it?"
Every hair on Lawrence's body stood up at those words.
"Aw, it's hurt. Fled here from someone's kitchen maybe?"
"Who cares about that. I don't see anyone close so let's take it with us."
"Yeah, let's do...mm? Oh, it's still alive."
Instantly, Lawrence cast his baggage aside and flew out of the room.
He rushed down the stairs, darted through the tavern, and plunged into the narrow, dark corridor.
He opened the back entrance door Hilde had left through only just before, flying into the street, looking left to right and back.
In the corner of a street not even a block away, a pair of drunks were looking toward the ground.
There was no mistake—it was Hilde who they were prodding with their feet.
"Hey, don't run off now."
"That'd be trouble. Snap 'is neck."
"Oh? Ohh yeah, let's do that."
The man raised one foot.
The same moment, Lawrence yelled out.
"Please, wait!"
The night was getting late. Lawrence's voice reverberated well; the two drunks noticed him immediately.
"Please, wait!"
"Mm?"
"That hare."
Lawrence pointed as he ran. The drunks looked at their own feet.
They looked at the wounded, limp hare and then looked back at Lawrence.
"Whaaat? You tryin' to swipe this hare from under our noses?"
It was a crudely spoken threat that could only be explained by booze.
Lawrence did not have time to discuss this. He did not know if the vigilantes might hear the ruckus and come. If one of the men who was after Hilde were among them that would be the end of that.
"No, that hare ran off in the middle of the cooking. I've been looking for it the whole time since. So this is in thanks."
Instead of drawing his dagger from his hip, Lawrence loosened his money bag and fished out silver coins. He would not be called stingy. One silver trenni per person, two pieces altogether. By rights, that was enough to purchase an entire cage filled with hares.
As the drunkards saw his hand push the coins toward them, they were at a loss for words.
And the moment after they realized the value of what they held in their hands, they practically jumped as they distanced themselves from the hare.
"Ah, er, sorry 'bout that. Had no idea he'd run off from a nobleman's house."
There was no way anyone normal would have offered silver trenni for a single hare.
The drunks looked at each other and ran off, fearful of the consequences.
Lawrence watched their backs as the pair ran off. He then looked down at Hilde.
He was wounded, on his side, his fur pathetically exposed.
Like this, it was enough to doubt whether he was alive at all.
Hilde no longer had anyone left he could ask for aid.
Perhaps his allies had fled in fear; Lawrence knew not if they had even betrayed him.
He understood that at the very least, lying upon the road, disgracefully exposed like this, no one would come to his aid. He had narrowly avoided being killed by a drunk just a few moments before.
Until but a short time ago, he was in the midst of a grand scheme that ought to have made him akin to the conqueror of the world. But what came instead was ignominiously betrayed and abandoned, and now he was fighting hard to recover. He was in the vortex of a tale so dramatic that he could not make any complaint—a tale of having been felled by betrayal on the very cusp of the success of one's dream.
For everyone who succeeded in the world, their successes were thanks to the many who had failed, their own tales vanishing into the darkness. Hilde was soon to join them.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Ho, what's this?"
Lawrence instantly understood that the man was rather drunk from his stupidly, pointlessly loud voice. Though that was nothing remarkable in a town in such high spirits, what sounded strange to his ears was what followed afterward.
"Hey, this is great. Ya found a great thing here, lad."
"Grace of God, huh? This'll make a great souvenir."
"A tasty-lookin' hare, ain't it?"
Every hair on Lawrence's body stood up at those words.
"Aw, it's hurt. Fled here from someone's kitchen maybe?"
"Who cares about that. I don't see anyone close so let's take it with us."
"Yeah, let's do...mm? Oh, it's still alive."
Instantly, Lawrence cast his baggage aside and flew out of the room.
He rushed down the stairs, darted through the tavern, and plunged into the narrow, dark corridor.
He opened the back entrance door Hilde had left through only just before, flying into the street, looking left to right and back.
In the corner of a street not even a block away, a pair of drunks were looking toward the ground.
There was no mistake—it was Hilde who they were prodding with their feet.
"Hey, don't run off now."
"That'd be trouble. Snap 'is neck."
"Oh? Ohh yeah, let's do that."
The man raised one foot.
The same moment, Lawrence yelled out.
"Please, wait!"
The night was getting late. Lawrence's voice reverberated well; the two drunks noticed him immediately.
"Please, wait!"
"Mm?"
"That hare."
Lawrence pointed as he ran. The drunks looked at their own feet.
They looked at the wounded, limp hare and then looked back at Lawrence.
"Whaaat? You tryin' to swipe this hare from under our noses?"
It was a crudely spoken threat that could only be explained by booze.
Lawrence did not have time to discuss this. He did not know if the vigilantes might hear the ruckus and come. If one of the men who was after Hilde were among them that would be the end of that.
"No, that hare ran off in the middle of the cooking. I've been looking for it the whole time since. So this is in thanks."
Instead of drawing his dagger from his hip, Lawrence loosened his money bag and fished out silver coins. He would not be called stingy. One silver trenni per person, two pieces altogether. By rights, that was enough to purchase an entire cage filled with hares.
As the drunkards saw his hand push the coins toward them, they were at a loss for words.
And the moment after they realized the value of what they held in their hands, they practically jumped as they distanced themselves from the hare.
"Ah, er, sorry 'bout that. Had no idea he'd run off from a nobleman's house."
There was no way anyone normal would have offered silver trenni for a single hare.
The drunks looked at each other and ran off, fearful of the consequences.
Lawrence watched their backs as the pair ran off. He then looked down at Hilde.
He was wounded, on his side, his fur pathetically exposed.
Like this, it was enough to doubt whether he was alive at all.
Hilde no longer had anyone left he could ask for aid.
Perhaps his allies had fled in fear; Lawrence knew not if they had even betrayed him.
He understood that at the very least, lying upon the road, disgracefully exposed like this, no one would come to his aid. He had narrowly avoided being killed by a drunk just a few moments before.
Until but a short time ago, he was in the midst of a grand scheme that ought to have made him akin to the conqueror of the world. But what came instead was ignominiously betrayed and abandoned, and now he was fighting hard to recover. He was in the vortex of a tale so dramatic that he could not make any complaint—a tale of having been felled by betrayal on the very cusp of the success of one's dream.
For everyone who succeeded in the world, their successes were thanks to the many who had failed, their own tales vanishing into the darkness. Hilde was soon to join them.

Output:
But they had lost to the lords, or rather, to the lord-like avarice mixed with old blood. No doubt they had faced many challengers in the past, all having fallen without anyone knowing.
Lawrence still was not inclined to join in. Practical problems stood in the way; more than anything else, however, they had to have been well resolved before crossing this dangerous bridge.
But he had become inclined to help.
Where there was life, one could recover. What would become of him if he lost sight of what was important?
After all, it was also the truth that accomplishing great deeds was not the only meaning to life.
Lawrence lifted Hilde's tiny body into his arms, returned to the inn to retrieve the two letters, and put his things in order.
A little while later, he safely caught up to Luward and the others.
Hilde's small body was like the corpse of a dream.
***
"And so, the great and mighty merchant goes out with a whimper."
Luward spoke as he lifted Hilde's body, whose shoulder had only just been sewn up, with his fingers. As he had not spoken to the men about Hilde, those ordered to heal the hare had been bewildered. His wound sutured and salved, he now slept like the dead inside a wicker cage. The mercenaries had apparently been making crude jokes about this being tonight's supper.
Lawrence and the others were on the outskirts of Lesko, not very far removed from the town.
There was not a single cloud in the sky. He could see the pretty twinkling of the stars.
In turn, the cold was fierce. The members of the company huddled under blankets near fires they had lit with dead grass gathered from the roadside to get as warm as they could. They sent longing gazes toward the wagon bed of Lawrence's wagon, but they did not ask why someone so out of place was in a place like this. Their gazes were filled with longing for a quick decision.
"It's some ways away, but heading south may be a wise choice."
Moizi spoke as he spread a map over the bed of Lawrence's horse-drawn wagon.
"Lenos, eh? If by some chance the Debau Company bunch want to put us to the slaughter, a large army attacking over flat ground would wipe even our unit out in an instant, yes?"
"Yes. However, if we head north, we shall be pursued as rebels, but if we go south, they have no just cause to attack us."
Great violence was often senseless, but it seemed even they needed a cause, no matter how thin.
"Well, I suppose in Lenos it would be easier to rendezvous with Miss Holo."
"Indeed, it would. There are no proper towns or villages to the east or west. A good plan would be to quietly head downriver and wait for things to cool down, then head back to Tolkien. Even the Debau Company would surely not advance an army against Lenos."
The dominion of Ploania was just south of Lenos. Without doubt, sending an army there would provoke the king and nobles. Certainly, it was unlikely they would do such a foolish thing.
"What do you think, Mr. Lawrence? Is this acceptable?"
Lawrence could not really wrap his head around his participation in this conference to decide where the storied mercenary company would march. Asking him, Where do you want your goods pillaged midroute? and Where do you want to be killed? would have been better grounded in reality by far.
"I think it is a good plan."
"All right. It's settled, then."
Luward stood up, hopped down from the wagon bed, and grandly strode forward.
As he did so, the squirming mercenaries gathered to him, like children around a clown that had appeared in the town square.
With a flap of his overcoat and a great wave of his hand, Luward announced his decision. He spoke frankly and clearly and brooked no complaint.
It seemed they would be marching by night. For that reason, he first ordered preparations for a nighttime meal to fill their bellies. That instant, like little children, the soldiers raised both hands with a great shout.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
But they had lost to the lords, or rather, to the lord-like avarice mixed with old blood. No doubt they had faced many challengers in the past, all having fallen without anyone knowing.
Lawrence still was not inclined to join in. Practical problems stood in the way; more than anything else, however, they had to have been well resolved before crossing this dangerous bridge.
But he had become inclined to help.
Where there was life, one could recover. What would become of him if he lost sight of what was important?
After all, it was also the truth that accomplishing great deeds was not the only meaning to life.
Lawrence lifted Hilde's tiny body into his arms, returned to the inn to retrieve the two letters, and put his things in order.
A little while later, he safely caught up to Luward and the others.
Hilde's small body was like the corpse of a dream.
***
"And so, the great and mighty merchant goes out with a whimper."
Luward spoke as he lifted Hilde's body, whose shoulder had only just been sewn up, with his fingers. As he had not spoken to the men about Hilde, those ordered to heal the hare had been bewildered. His wound sutured and salved, he now slept like the dead inside a wicker cage. The mercenaries had apparently been making crude jokes about this being tonight's supper.
Lawrence and the others were on the outskirts of Lesko, not very far removed from the town.
There was not a single cloud in the sky. He could see the pretty twinkling of the stars.
In turn, the cold was fierce. The members of the company huddled under blankets near fires they had lit with dead grass gathered from the roadside to get as warm as they could. They sent longing gazes toward the wagon bed of Lawrence's wagon, but they did not ask why someone so out of place was in a place like this. Their gazes were filled with longing for a quick decision.
"It's some ways away, but heading south may be a wise choice."
Moizi spoke as he spread a map over the bed of Lawrence's horse-drawn wagon.
"Lenos, eh? If by some chance the Debau Company bunch want to put us to the slaughter, a large army attacking over flat ground would wipe even our unit out in an instant, yes?"
"Yes. However, if we head north, we shall be pursued as rebels, but if we go south, they have no just cause to attack us."
Great violence was often senseless, but it seemed even they needed a cause, no matter how thin.
"Well, I suppose in Lenos it would be easier to rendezvous with Miss Holo."
"Indeed, it would. There are no proper towns or villages to the east or west. A good plan would be to quietly head downriver and wait for things to cool down, then head back to Tolkien. Even the Debau Company would surely not advance an army against Lenos."
The dominion of Ploania was just south of Lenos. Without doubt, sending an army there would provoke the king and nobles. Certainly, it was unlikely they would do such a foolish thing.
"What do you think, Mr. Lawrence? Is this acceptable?"
Lawrence could not really wrap his head around his participation in this conference to decide where the storied mercenary company would march. Asking him, Where do you want your goods pillaged midroute? and Where do you want to be killed? would have been better grounded in reality by far.
"I think it is a good plan."
"All right. It's settled, then."
Luward stood up, hopped down from the wagon bed, and grandly strode forward.
As he did so, the squirming mercenaries gathered to him, like children around a clown that had appeared in the town square.
With a flap of his overcoat and a great wave of his hand, Luward announced his decision. He spoke frankly and clearly and brooked no complaint.
It seemed they would be marching by night. For that reason, he first ordered preparations for a nighttime meal to fill their bellies. That instant, like little children, the soldiers raised both hands with a great shout.

Output:
"Mr. Lawrence, is something wrong?"
"Eh?"
Lawrence thought he must have been referring to the meal, but Moizi moved his chin in the direction of the wagon's draft horse as he continued.
"If so, I'll have someone lead your horse. It would not do for us to be separated in the middle of marching at night, after all."
In other words, a traveling merchant with little endurance should meekly sleep on top of the wagon bed.
But even if that was the case, he did not have the confidence to be the only exception with mercenaries walking all around him.
He was sure Moizi meant well, but he had to walk.
"No, I'll walk. After all..." Lawrence's answer seemed to put special emphasis on the last part. "...Holo will no doubt be running all night without rest."
Moizi's hand stopped rolling up the map and slapped his own forehead. "My apologies. I spoke in haste."
They were such serious people. If all mercenaries were like this, he would really have to revise his general impression of them a bit.
"But you are sure about this?"
Having finished rolling up the map, Moizi tied it with a horsehair cord and handed it to a youngster sitting idle on the edge of the wagon bed.
When Holo rummaged around in the wagon, it looked very broad, but with Moizi, it looked rather cramped.
"The forbidden book will likely be all for naught."
"...Certainly that is true."
As Lawrence replied, he looked toward Hilde, sleeping like the dead in the wicker cage. "He should realize it's time to quit. The larger a company, the less it is something that can be driven by a single person. Now that he's completely lost internal control, there's surely nothing more he can do."
"Mmm...so he should live to trade again, in other words."
"These are the narrow thoughts of a traveling merchant, mind you."
A ration of alcohol was given to all in advance of the night meal.
Moizi accepted his own jug from the youngster and put it down on the wagon bed.
"I think you are correct in this. Although...it does have a slightly tiresome side to it, I must admit."
Many people simply enjoyed a life of battle. To them, Lawrence's way of thinking surely seemed that of a small-time, timid merchant.
Even so, what stopped him from reacting visibily to this implication was that their judgment was not all that far off.
But Luward, who had returned at some point after finishing giving orders to those around them, stood right behind Moizi and spoke. "That seems different than what you told me, Moizi."
"Y-young master?"
"Don't call me that. So what, you pounded practicality into me over and over when you're the one drunk on war romance?"
As Luward twisted his words like a knife, Moizi, his face austere even under normal circumstances, made a still sterner face.
Luward laughed at Moizi's look and agilely leaped back up onto the wagon bed.
"Either way, I'm not supporting Mr. Lawrence's judgment here. The Debau Company rubs me the wrong way, whether it's the old guard or the new guard."
If Hilde and Debau blazed the way for a new era, others, like Luward and his men, would be left behind along with the old world.
In that sense, perhaps that was why Luward felt so friendly with the current Debau Company.
"What's sad is how we have to help a company that plans to treat us as disposable. Certainly we'd make money. It might be profitable, but..." Luward paused mid-sentence to take a sip of liquor as a youngster brought over the evening meal. It was simple—bread sandwiching sausage—but in this cold, it surpassed any feast. "Only in money. A bit of drink and merrymaking and it's gone."
This said, Luward wolfed down three mouthfuls worth of bread.
Certainly, if one only made enough money to eat, once they ate, it was gone.
"How about you, Mr. Lawrence? You're a merchant. Have you ever thought about that?"
As the conversation was passed to Lawrence, he was biting into his sausage, which left a bit of grease on his face.
Luward's question seemed hot and oily in its own right.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Mr. Lawrence, is something wrong?"
"Eh?"
Lawrence thought he must have been referring to the meal, but Moizi moved his chin in the direction of the wagon's draft horse as he continued.
"If so, I'll have someone lead your horse. It would not do for us to be separated in the middle of marching at night, after all."
In other words, a traveling merchant with little endurance should meekly sleep on top of the wagon bed.
But even if that was the case, he did not have the confidence to be the only exception with mercenaries walking all around him.
He was sure Moizi meant well, but he had to walk.
"No, I'll walk. After all..." Lawrence's answer seemed to put special emphasis on the last part. "...Holo will no doubt be running all night without rest."
Moizi's hand stopped rolling up the map and slapped his own forehead. "My apologies. I spoke in haste."
They were such serious people. If all mercenaries were like this, he would really have to revise his general impression of them a bit.
"But you are sure about this?"
Having finished rolling up the map, Moizi tied it with a horsehair cord and handed it to a youngster sitting idle on the edge of the wagon bed.
When Holo rummaged around in the wagon, it looked very broad, but with Moizi, it looked rather cramped.
"The forbidden book will likely be all for naught."
"...Certainly that is true."
As Lawrence replied, he looked toward Hilde, sleeping like the dead in the wicker cage. "He should realize it's time to quit. The larger a company, the less it is something that can be driven by a single person. Now that he's completely lost internal control, there's surely nothing more he can do."
"Mmm...so he should live to trade again, in other words."
"These are the narrow thoughts of a traveling merchant, mind you."
A ration of alcohol was given to all in advance of the night meal.
Moizi accepted his own jug from the youngster and put it down on the wagon bed.
"I think you are correct in this. Although...it does have a slightly tiresome side to it, I must admit."
Many people simply enjoyed a life of battle. To them, Lawrence's way of thinking surely seemed that of a small-time, timid merchant.
Even so, what stopped him from reacting visibily to this implication was that their judgment was not all that far off.
But Luward, who had returned at some point after finishing giving orders to those around them, stood right behind Moizi and spoke. "That seems different than what you told me, Moizi."
"Y-young master?"
"Don't call me that. So what, you pounded practicality into me over and over when you're the one drunk on war romance?"
As Luward twisted his words like a knife, Moizi, his face austere even under normal circumstances, made a still sterner face.
Luward laughed at Moizi's look and agilely leaped back up onto the wagon bed.
"Either way, I'm not supporting Mr. Lawrence's judgment here. The Debau Company rubs me the wrong way, whether it's the old guard or the new guard."
If Hilde and Debau blazed the way for a new era, others, like Luward and his men, would be left behind along with the old world.
In that sense, perhaps that was why Luward felt so friendly with the current Debau Company.
"What's sad is how we have to help a company that plans to treat us as disposable. Certainly we'd make money. It might be profitable, but..." Luward paused mid-sentence to take a sip of liquor as a youngster brought over the evening meal. It was simple—bread sandwiching sausage—but in this cold, it surpassed any feast. "Only in money. A bit of drink and merrymaking and it's gone."
This said, Luward wolfed down three mouthfuls worth of bread.
Certainly, if one only made enough money to eat, once they ate, it was gone.
"How about you, Mr. Lawrence? You're a merchant. Have you ever thought about that?"
As the conversation was passed to Lawrence, he was biting into his sausage, which left a bit of grease on his face.
Luward's question seemed hot and oily in its own right.

Output:
"Really." Luward and Moizi both took great interest as they looked at him.
"This incredible person earned money over and over, using without conscience not only the lives of others, but his own life as well. I heard about this man. And I encountered him, with sword and knife pointed at me, in a seemingly abandoned warehouse."
The two mercenaries' eyes widened in surprise for a moment; then, they made smiling faces like innocent children.
"I asked him, why do you desire money so much? Is it not like trying to drink up an ocean?"
Lawrence could not remember the face Eve had made at the time. It was not important at the time. Even so, he remembered the tone of her voice to the present day.
That innocent, powerful, and somewhat sad tone of voice.
"Because he needed to see, he said."
"To see..." Luward alone repeated it back. Moizi firmly bit his lip, moving his thick neck and tugging on his chin.
"To see." The young head of the mercenary company repeated it once more, gradually shifting his gaze into the distance.
The response stuck like a piece of paper in a bird's craw, but his eyes easily leaped and trailed away.
"He might have made a good warrior."
And laughing as he spoke, Luward returned his gaze to Lawrence.
"Wonder if he'd come if we sent an offer his way. What do you think, Moizi?"
"Mmm...certainly, he might become a fine warrior. However, he surely lacks the personality to follow orders. If it is in his interests, he is capable of working with others, no matter how reckless the plan. However, if it is not in his interests, he can betray you no matter how friendly he is. It is a characteristic of many who have things expected of them somewhere else rather than here."
It was so precise an assessment it was as if Moizi had seen Eve with his own eyes.
Luward raised a dissatisfied-looking eyebrow, but as Lawrence nodded, the mercenary breathed a heavy sigh, like a child whose playtime had been interrupted midway. "So you've been betrayed, too, Mr. Lawrence."
"Holo became a pawn, and in the end, before I'd even realized it, even my own life came to be at stake."
Luward whistled through his lips as Moizi stuffed his mouth with the last of the bread. "Merchants are frightening. The fact they don't look it makes them even more frightening."
He looked toward the wicker cage in which Hilde slept as he spoke.
"There's a limit to how large a sword a man can swing. However, there's no limit to the amount a merchant may write on a piece of paper. Here they have failed, but merchants might truly be the rulers of the world someday."
Luward's left hand had been holding the hilt of his sword for some time.
The expressionless way he looked down at Hilde was like a king who is thinking of cutting down his foe while still a powerless baby so that the child might not grow up to someday usurp his crown.
"That might be so, but today is not that day. So, we shall fight on till that day comes."
Moizi's words made Luward raise an eyebrow, looking slightly annoyed.
It was as if telling a child that one did not take a life in vain.
"...Still, strife in the northlands does worry me somewhat." With a rattle, Luward's hand came off the hilt of his sword as he spoke. "I don't think there's any reasonable chance anyone can stop them with the momentum they have now. I've heard that opponents are gathering in Svernel, but it's no use."
This was the veteran mercenary's assessment of the town to which Hilde sent his letter requesting aid.
So indeed, if Lawrence delivered the letter, he would only be putting his own life in peril. It was a selfish thought, but having laid hands on an excuse, he felt his mood brighten just a little.
"I wonder what Miss Holo plans to do. Perhaps she can slow conflict down even a little?"
Holo's mind was already set. She would surely do no such thing. No doubt she would do like Hugues, the sheep art seller, and would match the flow of the world as well as she could, pretending not to see.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Really." Luward and Moizi both took great interest as they looked at him.
"This incredible person earned money over and over, using without conscience not only the lives of others, but his own life as well. I heard about this man. And I encountered him, with sword and knife pointed at me, in a seemingly abandoned warehouse."
The two mercenaries' eyes widened in surprise for a moment; then, they made smiling faces like innocent children.
"I asked him, why do you desire money so much? Is it not like trying to drink up an ocean?"
Lawrence could not remember the face Eve had made at the time. It was not important at the time. Even so, he remembered the tone of her voice to the present day.
That innocent, powerful, and somewhat sad tone of voice.
"Because he needed to see, he said."
"To see..." Luward alone repeated it back. Moizi firmly bit his lip, moving his thick neck and tugging on his chin.
"To see." The young head of the mercenary company repeated it once more, gradually shifting his gaze into the distance.
The response stuck like a piece of paper in a bird's craw, but his eyes easily leaped and trailed away.
"He might have made a good warrior."
And laughing as he spoke, Luward returned his gaze to Lawrence.
"Wonder if he'd come if we sent an offer his way. What do you think, Moizi?"
"Mmm...certainly, he might become a fine warrior. However, he surely lacks the personality to follow orders. If it is in his interests, he is capable of working with others, no matter how reckless the plan. However, if it is not in his interests, he can betray you no matter how friendly he is. It is a characteristic of many who have things expected of them somewhere else rather than here."
It was so precise an assessment it was as if Moizi had seen Eve with his own eyes.
Luward raised a dissatisfied-looking eyebrow, but as Lawrence nodded, the mercenary breathed a heavy sigh, like a child whose playtime had been interrupted midway. "So you've been betrayed, too, Mr. Lawrence."
"Holo became a pawn, and in the end, before I'd even realized it, even my own life came to be at stake."
Luward whistled through his lips as Moizi stuffed his mouth with the last of the bread. "Merchants are frightening. The fact they don't look it makes them even more frightening."
He looked toward the wicker cage in which Hilde slept as he spoke.
"There's a limit to how large a sword a man can swing. However, there's no limit to the amount a merchant may write on a piece of paper. Here they have failed, but merchants might truly be the rulers of the world someday."
Luward's left hand had been holding the hilt of his sword for some time.
The expressionless way he looked down at Hilde was like a king who is thinking of cutting down his foe while still a powerless baby so that the child might not grow up to someday usurp his crown.
"That might be so, but today is not that day. So, we shall fight on till that day comes."
Moizi's words made Luward raise an eyebrow, looking slightly annoyed.
It was as if telling a child that one did not take a life in vain.
"...Still, strife in the northlands does worry me somewhat." With a rattle, Luward's hand came off the hilt of his sword as he spoke. "I don't think there's any reasonable chance anyone can stop them with the momentum they have now. I've heard that opponents are gathering in Svernel, but it's no use."
This was the veteran mercenary's assessment of the town to which Hilde sent his letter requesting aid.
So indeed, if Lawrence delivered the letter, he would only be putting his own life in peril. It was a selfish thought, but having laid hands on an excuse, he felt his mood brighten just a little.
"I wonder what Miss Holo plans to do. Perhaps she can slow conflict down even a little?"
Holo's mind was already set. She would surely do no such thing. No doubt she would do like Hugues, the sheep art seller, and would match the flow of the world as well as she could, pretending not to see.

Output:
"We, too, must work so that we bring no shame to our own banner," said Moizi.
"Damned right we will. But first, we'll change the course of our advance and wait and see."
He said retreat without actually saying it. It seemed he really was fond of that line.
"Although it's good to do a night march like this after so long. Nice if it stays clear." As Luward spoke, he raised his hand to shield his eyes as he looked up at the sky, acting like it was the middle of the day.
Right now there was not a single cloud as the pretty stars twinkled in the cold night sky.
"Snow might be all right, but rainfall would be troublesome."
They could manage with snow; for the cloud cover to be thick enough for rain, it had to be unseasonably warm.
Lawrence had that in mind as he spoke, but Luward laughed as he tilted his neck.
"I'm not worried about rain or snow. I'm worried about whether we see the morning sun."
"Morning sun?"
"Yeah. I love seeing the morning sun when marching in the dead of night. What's even better is that even if you're all chewed up from battle, not one person makes a complaint. When you've been going all night—What'll become of us? Is there relief ahead? Why'd this happen to us? and so on—it's the best."
Luward's speaking in such high spirits brought a pained smile to Moizi.
"Blood and sweat are like flies buzzing about a corpse with the stench of death; you can never wipe them away. When darkness sticks to your hands, it stays with you like blood; you can never leave it behind. But the moment the sun emerges, all is washed away that instant. When you see that morning sun..." Luward closed his eyes, and as if remembering that very scene, he made a pause in the hymn, then continued, "...You can't quit the mercenary life."
No doubt they thought this in particular because their livelihood depended on endless war.
One really did have to cut away all the bad and let it all wash away. It had to be a very good feeling.
But as a merchant, Lawrence would rather take action before a situation became desperate, if at all possible.
"Well, it does look like we'll see a really beautiful one this time."
Having left town in defiance of the Debau Company, there had been no sign of any pursuit from them. Besides, Luward and Moizi had said there would probably not be an attack without some kind of just cause.
They would arrive at the town of Lenos with little difficulty and would rendezvous with Holo, who was not far now.
Bringing Hilde to Lenos with them as well, he would surely calm down and rethink things.
It was best to think of what to do afterward when the time came.
Taking Holo to Yoitsu would be good, but if Holo would forgive it, Lawrence would like to wrap up his own business first. It would mean a fair detour, but there were many places a traveling merchant must visit before spring came in earnest.
And if he and Holo were to begin a new life together, there were numerous things he would like to liquidate.
"Well, we've stuffed our bellies so it's time to be off." As Luward spoke, Moizi slowly rose up.
Traveling at night with a ghost seemed far more likely than traveling in the middle of a mercenary company. Lawrence wanted to laugh at the absurdity before his eyes. However, on the bed of his wagon rode the right-hand man of a mineral trader unheard of in any prior era. Furthermore, he, a hare incarnate, was fighting fiercely to bring peace to the northlands.
And all of this had been made possible by a chance encounter.
However, in the end, the world was a cloth woven between each and every person in it; the power of an individual was not great. As Luward had said, even this exceptional merchant went "out with a whimper."
Though the splendor of his commercial profits ascribed to him a God-like halo, as if everything he touched turned to gold, no such thing actually occurred.
Perhaps that was part of why Holo so quickly realized that she could not solve everything in the world with her fangs.
Her power had limits.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"We, too, must work so that we bring no shame to our own banner," said Moizi.
"Damned right we will. But first, we'll change the course of our advance and wait and see."
He said retreat without actually saying it. It seemed he really was fond of that line.
"Although it's good to do a night march like this after so long. Nice if it stays clear." As Luward spoke, he raised his hand to shield his eyes as he looked up at the sky, acting like it was the middle of the day.
Right now there was not a single cloud as the pretty stars twinkled in the cold night sky.
"Snow might be all right, but rainfall would be troublesome."
They could manage with snow; for the cloud cover to be thick enough for rain, it had to be unseasonably warm.
Lawrence had that in mind as he spoke, but Luward laughed as he tilted his neck.
"I'm not worried about rain or snow. I'm worried about whether we see the morning sun."
"Morning sun?"
"Yeah. I love seeing the morning sun when marching in the dead of night. What's even better is that even if you're all chewed up from battle, not one person makes a complaint. When you've been going all night—What'll become of us? Is there relief ahead? Why'd this happen to us? and so on—it's the best."
Luward's speaking in such high spirits brought a pained smile to Moizi.
"Blood and sweat are like flies buzzing about a corpse with the stench of death; you can never wipe them away. When darkness sticks to your hands, it stays with you like blood; you can never leave it behind. But the moment the sun emerges, all is washed away that instant. When you see that morning sun..." Luward closed his eyes, and as if remembering that very scene, he made a pause in the hymn, then continued, "...You can't quit the mercenary life."
No doubt they thought this in particular because their livelihood depended on endless war.
One really did have to cut away all the bad and let it all wash away. It had to be a very good feeling.
But as a merchant, Lawrence would rather take action before a situation became desperate, if at all possible.
"Well, it does look like we'll see a really beautiful one this time."
Having left town in defiance of the Debau Company, there had been no sign of any pursuit from them. Besides, Luward and Moizi had said there would probably not be an attack without some kind of just cause.
They would arrive at the town of Lenos with little difficulty and would rendezvous with Holo, who was not far now.
Bringing Hilde to Lenos with them as well, he would surely calm down and rethink things.
It was best to think of what to do afterward when the time came.
Taking Holo to Yoitsu would be good, but if Holo would forgive it, Lawrence would like to wrap up his own business first. It would mean a fair detour, but there were many places a traveling merchant must visit before spring came in earnest.
And if he and Holo were to begin a new life together, there were numerous things he would like to liquidate.
"Well, we've stuffed our bellies so it's time to be off." As Luward spoke, Moizi slowly rose up.
Traveling at night with a ghost seemed far more likely than traveling in the middle of a mercenary company. Lawrence wanted to laugh at the absurdity before his eyes. However, on the bed of his wagon rode the right-hand man of a mineral trader unheard of in any prior era. Furthermore, he, a hare incarnate, was fighting fiercely to bring peace to the northlands.
And all of this had been made possible by a chance encounter.
However, in the end, the world was a cloth woven between each and every person in it; the power of an individual was not great. As Luward had said, even this exceptional merchant went "out with a whimper."
Though the splendor of his commercial profits ascribed to him a God-like halo, as if everything he touched turned to gold, no such thing actually occurred.
Perhaps that was part of why Holo so quickly realized that she could not solve everything in the world with her fangs.
Her power had limits.

Output:
Perhaps realizing this in the bottom of one's heart was what made people see the world with open eyes.
"No one misplaced anything?" Luward asked very casually.
At those words, Lawrence spontaneously looked in the direction of Lesko.
For a while, he really wanted to see that store set up. He had in fact paid the deposit. But he had completely given up on that dream now. One had to give up many things for the sake of a new travel route, which was why travelers did not stay long in a village with many gentle souls.
Very soon now, what he might have done in Lesko would be an amusing tale, one he thought would be good to tell with Holo by his side. So, Lawrence raised his face and moved to reply to Luward.
The sooner we go, the better. Life is short, after all.
It was not his own fault that his voice did not come out. It was because Luward's face seemed to be saying, "Oh my." He had no time to even think, What is it all of a sudden?
From behind Lawrence, they heard a painful, stuttering voice.
"I—mis...placed..."
"Mr. Hilde!" Chasing after the path of Luward's surprised gaze, Lawrence turned to see the wounded hare in the wicker cage desperately raising his head.
"...some...thing..." It was as if his consciousness was hazy, perhaps due to fever from the wounds. His tiny head swayed, and one eye was not opening properly. Even so, he was desperately determined to tell them something.
Hilde still had some attachment to Lesko—some regret of some kind.
Luward closed the distance.
"Hey, you rabbit bastard." Luward thrust a single rough finger at the hare, one eye still closed, perhaps due to the wounds sapping his endurance. "You lost your war. Get it through your head. We're heading south. If you don't wanna die, shut your mouth and curl up right there. Understand?"
The hare was so frail merely raising his head made him shake, but Lawrence did not find Luward's display particularly untoward. A mercenary company had to act as a group. If head and mouth were not in accord, the hands and feet would fall into disorder.
"Do you understand?"
Finally, Luward lifted the powerless Hilde's chin and turned his face to the side, like what was done with oppressed slaves. His eyes only seemed dimly open, as if he had a concussion.
"Maybe I should say, as expected of a merchant of the Debau Company? I'll give you credit for being stubborn."
"C-certainly, it is a temperament wasted on a hare."
Unsurprisingly, even Moizi was thrown off by the sight of a talking hare before his eyes. He was a steadfast, loyal mercenary. He displayed respect for any party who merited it, even a hare.
Moizi used his too-thick fingers to politely pull the blanket, which had slipped, back over him.
And, just as Luward stood up to give orders to his subordinates...
"I l-left..."
The sound of the shaking voice made Luward turn around.
"...l-letters."
And a look approaching shock came over Luward's face. "Letters, you say?" But those open eyes and that exhausted chin contained a seething rage under the surface. "Hey, is that true?"
Luward brushed Moizi aside and thrust his hand into the wicker cage.
"Hey, wake up!"
And just as if trying to force a drunk to wake up, Luward grabbed him by the collar and shook hard enough to make his head shake.
Of course Moizi intervened to stop him. Hilde remained completely limp, his long ears seemingly very heavy.
He had left a letter.
With one sentence, Hilde had driven a rusted wrench into the gears of Luward's mind.
"Shit! Letters, letters, he said?!"
Luward took his hand off Hilde's throat. He returned the small, exhausted hare's body to the cage.
"Yeah, it's possible...If he asked Mr. Lawrence, then...it's possible. Very possible..."
Irritated, Luward gazed at the surface of the wagon bed, repeating himself in rapid succession.
And suddenly, he raised his head.
"Mr. Lawrence."
It was an intense gaze that suddenly made Luward seem taller.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Perhaps realizing this in the bottom of one's heart was what made people see the world with open eyes.
"No one misplaced anything?" Luward asked very casually.
At those words, Lawrence spontaneously looked in the direction of Lesko.
For a while, he really wanted to see that store set up. He had in fact paid the deposit. But he had completely given up on that dream now. One had to give up many things for the sake of a new travel route, which was why travelers did not stay long in a village with many gentle souls.
Very soon now, what he might have done in Lesko would be an amusing tale, one he thought would be good to tell with Holo by his side. So, Lawrence raised his face and moved to reply to Luward.
The sooner we go, the better. Life is short, after all.
It was not his own fault that his voice did not come out. It was because Luward's face seemed to be saying, "Oh my." He had no time to even think, What is it all of a sudden?
From behind Lawrence, they heard a painful, stuttering voice.
"I—mis...placed..."
"Mr. Hilde!" Chasing after the path of Luward's surprised gaze, Lawrence turned to see the wounded hare in the wicker cage desperately raising his head.
"...some...thing..." It was as if his consciousness was hazy, perhaps due to fever from the wounds. His tiny head swayed, and one eye was not opening properly. Even so, he was desperately determined to tell them something.
Hilde still had some attachment to Lesko—some regret of some kind.
Luward closed the distance.
"Hey, you rabbit bastard." Luward thrust a single rough finger at the hare, one eye still closed, perhaps due to the wounds sapping his endurance. "You lost your war. Get it through your head. We're heading south. If you don't wanna die, shut your mouth and curl up right there. Understand?"
The hare was so frail merely raising his head made him shake, but Lawrence did not find Luward's display particularly untoward. A mercenary company had to act as a group. If head and mouth were not in accord, the hands and feet would fall into disorder.
"Do you understand?"
Finally, Luward lifted the powerless Hilde's chin and turned his face to the side, like what was done with oppressed slaves. His eyes only seemed dimly open, as if he had a concussion.
"Maybe I should say, as expected of a merchant of the Debau Company? I'll give you credit for being stubborn."
"C-certainly, it is a temperament wasted on a hare."
Unsurprisingly, even Moizi was thrown off by the sight of a talking hare before his eyes. He was a steadfast, loyal mercenary. He displayed respect for any party who merited it, even a hare.
Moizi used his too-thick fingers to politely pull the blanket, which had slipped, back over him.
And, just as Luward stood up to give orders to his subordinates...
"I l-left..."
The sound of the shaking voice made Luward turn around.
"...l-letters."
And a look approaching shock came over Luward's face. "Letters, you say?" But those open eyes and that exhausted chin contained a seething rage under the surface. "Hey, is that true?"
Luward brushed Moizi aside and thrust his hand into the wicker cage.
"Hey, wake up!"
And just as if trying to force a drunk to wake up, Luward grabbed him by the collar and shook hard enough to make his head shake.
Of course Moizi intervened to stop him. Hilde remained completely limp, his long ears seemingly very heavy.
He had left a letter.
With one sentence, Hilde had driven a rusted wrench into the gears of Luward's mind.
"Shit! Letters, letters, he said?!"
Luward took his hand off Hilde's throat. He returned the small, exhausted hare's body to the cage.
"Yeah, it's possible...If he asked Mr. Lawrence, then...it's possible. Very possible..."
Irritated, Luward gazed at the surface of the wagon bed, repeating himself in rapid succession.
And suddenly, he raised his head.
"Mr. Lawrence."
It was an intense gaze that suddenly made Luward seem taller.

Output:
"You were the last one to meet him. But I was careless and forgot to ask you.
"I thought all of this was over after all."
Luward's eyes gazed at Lawrence as if peering directly into Lawrence's head.
"I get that his final wish was for you to request aid. But what does that mean in real terms?"
That instant, the matter of the letter floated into the back of Lawrence's mind. Hilde had been on the verge of death when he used his nearly last gasps to reach the back entrance of the once-more silent inn, entrusting him with two copies of a letter—letters to Svernel and the lords within, saying Help me. Lawrence finally understood the effect of the pin Hilde had driven home.
In other words, Hilde's letters requesting aid demonstrated beyond all doubt who the Debau Company's current enemies were. So if Hilde had gone to Lawrence for aid, was it unthinkable he had requested aid from others as well? For example, from the storied and esteemed mercenary company filled with crack troops that had been stationed at the inn just earlier? It was not so difficult to imagine.
As if a youngster confessing an irrevocable mistake, Lawrence sucked in his breath and said this.
"He entrusted me with letters requesting aid in halting the Debau Company's current momentum from those arrayed in opposition to it."
Lawrence withdrew the two letters from his breast. He thought it would have been best to tear up and burn them.
At the very least, to do so for those entrusted to him.
A natural thought, but that would do nothing for any others.
In Hilde's situation, it would not have been strange to have left behind letters he had written but not disposed of. Or rather, there was a high probability he had left them on purpose.
After all, at that inn, it was still highly likely Lawrence would try to persuade him to give up. Considering Hilde's own physical strength was near its limit, Hilde must have thought it entirely possible Lawrence would whisk him outside of the town regardless of his own consent.
Once he left the town, it would be difficult to persuade anyone to fight the Debau Company. Even with Hilde's strenuous efforts, it was difficult. What to do?
Have the Debau Company come after him. For example, he could leave a letter in a conspicuous place requesting aid from the Myuri Mercenary Company, or failing that, one that said, "Thank you for your assistance."
Upon finding such a letter, the Debau Company would dispatch assassins to eliminate potential complications. Failing that, they might simply make an example. In either case, the Debau Company had a reason to pursue.
If it had been Lawrence in Hilde's position, he would probably have left a letter of thanks in a conspicuous place himself.
"To Mr. Luward Myuri of the Myuri Mercenary Company. Thank you for hearing my request. Let us take back the Debau Company, hand in hand."
"You got us good, you rabbit bastard," Luward muttered in loathing, as if his teeth were clenched and he was growling right through them. At this point, they could not return to Lesko to check and make sure. Like a demon, no one could prove whether the letters existed or not.
But if it meant sending the Myuri Mercenary Company's strength to Svernel, Hilde would absolutely have written them. In the face of the suspicion that they might have joined forces with Hilde, the Myuri Mercenary Company could no longer head south.
After all, the only route to Lenos was over a wide-open plain, making them the perfect target for the Debau Company's overwhelming military might. No matter how mighty the Myuri Mercenary Company was, if chased on an open plain, the force larger in number would be certain of victory. On the other hand, the narrow mountain roads that continued all the way to Svernel would allow them to make up for the numerical disparity.
Yet it was also quite possible this was a complete bluff on Hilde's part.
Though possible, if it was indeed true, heading south would bring the Myuri Mercenary Company's long history to an end.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"You were the last one to meet him. But I was careless and forgot to ask you.
"I thought all of this was over after all."
Luward's eyes gazed at Lawrence as if peering directly into Lawrence's head.
"I get that his final wish was for you to request aid. But what does that mean in real terms?"
That instant, the matter of the letter floated into the back of Lawrence's mind. Hilde had been on the verge of death when he used his nearly last gasps to reach the back entrance of the once-more silent inn, entrusting him with two copies of a letter—letters to Svernel and the lords within, saying Help me. Lawrence finally understood the effect of the pin Hilde had driven home.
In other words, Hilde's letters requesting aid demonstrated beyond all doubt who the Debau Company's current enemies were. So if Hilde had gone to Lawrence for aid, was it unthinkable he had requested aid from others as well? For example, from the storied and esteemed mercenary company filled with crack troops that had been stationed at the inn just earlier? It was not so difficult to imagine.
As if a youngster confessing an irrevocable mistake, Lawrence sucked in his breath and said this.
"He entrusted me with letters requesting aid in halting the Debau Company's current momentum from those arrayed in opposition to it."
Lawrence withdrew the two letters from his breast. He thought it would have been best to tear up and burn them.
At the very least, to do so for those entrusted to him.
A natural thought, but that would do nothing for any others.
In Hilde's situation, it would not have been strange to have left behind letters he had written but not disposed of. Or rather, there was a high probability he had left them on purpose.
After all, at that inn, it was still highly likely Lawrence would try to persuade him to give up. Considering Hilde's own physical strength was near its limit, Hilde must have thought it entirely possible Lawrence would whisk him outside of the town regardless of his own consent.
Once he left the town, it would be difficult to persuade anyone to fight the Debau Company. Even with Hilde's strenuous efforts, it was difficult. What to do?
Have the Debau Company come after him. For example, he could leave a letter in a conspicuous place requesting aid from the Myuri Mercenary Company, or failing that, one that said, "Thank you for your assistance."
Upon finding such a letter, the Debau Company would dispatch assassins to eliminate potential complications. Failing that, they might simply make an example. In either case, the Debau Company had a reason to pursue.
If it had been Lawrence in Hilde's position, he would probably have left a letter of thanks in a conspicuous place himself.
"To Mr. Luward Myuri of the Myuri Mercenary Company. Thank you for hearing my request. Let us take back the Debau Company, hand in hand."
"You got us good, you rabbit bastard," Luward muttered in loathing, as if his teeth were clenched and he was growling right through them. At this point, they could not return to Lesko to check and make sure. Like a demon, no one could prove whether the letters existed or not.
But if it meant sending the Myuri Mercenary Company's strength to Svernel, Hilde would absolutely have written them. In the face of the suspicion that they might have joined forces with Hilde, the Myuri Mercenary Company could no longer head south.
After all, the only route to Lenos was over a wide-open plain, making them the perfect target for the Debau Company's overwhelming military might. No matter how mighty the Myuri Mercenary Company was, if chased on an open plain, the force larger in number would be certain of victory. On the other hand, the narrow mountain roads that continued all the way to Svernel would allow them to make up for the numerical disparity.
Yet it was also quite possible this was a complete bluff on Hilde's part.
Though possible, if it was indeed true, heading south would bring the Myuri Mercenary Company's long history to an end.

Output:
When one was small, they needed to flee into small spaces to survive. It was an obvious truth.
Like a hare fleeing into a hare hole.
"Svernel...Svernel, eh...?"
Luward put his hand to his own forehead, repeating the word as if begging for relief. Lawrence himself had thought it reckless; Luward and Moizi had paid the idea no heed from the start.
No one would have by any normal measure of thinking.
However, Hilde's stubbornness was not normal, nor was his way of thinking. The single utterance Hilde had dropped was so powerful a thing. If Holo had been by his side, she might have acknowledged it with a dazzling, fang-baring smile on her face.
He had chosen to expend the last of his truly limited strength on a few choice words selected for maximum effect, bearing maximum force, delivered at the most opportune moment. With but a few words, he had bound the will of the head of a mercenary company.
This was the surly right-hand man of the owner of the Debau Company.
Lawrence realized he was fiercely jealous of the difference between him and this other merchant.
"Going south is no longer an option. We would risk annihilation." Moizi spelled it out. "Having said that, heading east or west would do nothing to clear up the suspicions directed at us. Also, there are plains in both directions. What, then, rush to Lenos as fast as we can? It's no use. They have boats. They will catch up with us, and there will be battle. That must be avoided at any cost."
"I know," Luward said shortly.
Moizi nodded and continued, "Then, we must turn north. There is nothing that can shield us save the narrow mountain roads. And the one nearest to us"—as the excellent strategist he was, Moizi spoke plainly about the failure of their plan—"is the road to Svernel. As a key line of communication, it cannot be ignored."
"In other words, we're being driven like hares into a hole."
The veteran strategist nodded gravely, for it was indeed exactly so.
But there was neither anger nor despair on his face.
There was only respect for Hilde the strategist.
"With a single arrow, he has upended the circumstances of the war. And he has accomplished this as a merchant with a single sentence." Luward brushed aside his coat with a rustle, raising his face in what seemed like defeat. "No choice but to ride with it. Ride and dance nicely on his palm."
And with that, he bounded down from the wagon bed, ordering the mercenaries to assemble.
Moizi followed in Luward's wake, distributing various minor commands.
The only ones left were Lawrence and Hilde.
But Hilde had revealed a plan that had earned respect from both Luward and Moizi.
For his part, Lawrence was merely playing the fool. One was the right-hand man of the master of a great merchant company. The other was a mere traveling merchant. One might say that even being jealous was absurd.
Lawrence looked down at Hilde, who had fainted; he then averted his eyes.
The great merchant went out with a whimper?
A foolish judgment.
He was a traveling merchant himself.
That sentence had viciously pierced Lawrence's own heart.
In trade, some loss could not be avoided.
But there were losses that had to be avoided at all costs.
These were not long-term losses nor great losses, but the losses that could not be recovered from.
Surely it was no different for mercenaries.
When one made their living in something as uncertain as war, severe damage was surely not such a rare event. However, losses to the extent that none would succeed to carry their flag had to be avoided at all costs.
Therefore, to avoid annihilation, some undertakings were necessary despite their great risk.
As a result of Hilde's plan, heading south carried with it the possibility of complete destruction. Therefore, the Myuri Mercenary Company changed course, entering the mountain road that led to Svernel.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
When one was small, they needed to flee into small spaces to survive. It was an obvious truth.
Like a hare fleeing into a hare hole.
"Svernel...Svernel, eh...?"
Luward put his hand to his own forehead, repeating the word as if begging for relief. Lawrence himself had thought it reckless; Luward and Moizi had paid the idea no heed from the start.
No one would have by any normal measure of thinking.
However, Hilde's stubbornness was not normal, nor was his way of thinking. The single utterance Hilde had dropped was so powerful a thing. If Holo had been by his side, she might have acknowledged it with a dazzling, fang-baring smile on her face.
He had chosen to expend the last of his truly limited strength on a few choice words selected for maximum effect, bearing maximum force, delivered at the most opportune moment. With but a few words, he had bound the will of the head of a mercenary company.
This was the surly right-hand man of the owner of the Debau Company.
Lawrence realized he was fiercely jealous of the difference between him and this other merchant.
"Going south is no longer an option. We would risk annihilation." Moizi spelled it out. "Having said that, heading east or west would do nothing to clear up the suspicions directed at us. Also, there are plains in both directions. What, then, rush to Lenos as fast as we can? It's no use. They have boats. They will catch up with us, and there will be battle. That must be avoided at any cost."
"I know," Luward said shortly.
Moizi nodded and continued, "Then, we must turn north. There is nothing that can shield us save the narrow mountain roads. And the one nearest to us"—as the excellent strategist he was, Moizi spoke plainly about the failure of their plan—"is the road to Svernel. As a key line of communication, it cannot be ignored."
"In other words, we're being driven like hares into a hole."
The veteran strategist nodded gravely, for it was indeed exactly so.
But there was neither anger nor despair on his face.
There was only respect for Hilde the strategist.
"With a single arrow, he has upended the circumstances of the war. And he has accomplished this as a merchant with a single sentence." Luward brushed aside his coat with a rustle, raising his face in what seemed like defeat. "No choice but to ride with it. Ride and dance nicely on his palm."
And with that, he bounded down from the wagon bed, ordering the mercenaries to assemble.
Moizi followed in Luward's wake, distributing various minor commands.
The only ones left were Lawrence and Hilde.
But Hilde had revealed a plan that had earned respect from both Luward and Moizi.
For his part, Lawrence was merely playing the fool. One was the right-hand man of the master of a great merchant company. The other was a mere traveling merchant. One might say that even being jealous was absurd.
Lawrence looked down at Hilde, who had fainted; he then averted his eyes.
The great merchant went out with a whimper?
A foolish judgment.
He was a traveling merchant himself.
That sentence had viciously pierced Lawrence's own heart.
In trade, some loss could not be avoided.
But there were losses that had to be avoided at all costs.
These were not long-term losses nor great losses, but the losses that could not be recovered from.
Surely it was no different for mercenaries.
When one made their living in something as uncertain as war, severe damage was surely not such a rare event. However, losses to the extent that none would succeed to carry their flag had to be avoided at all costs.
Therefore, to avoid annihilation, some undertakings were necessary despite their great risk.
As a result of Hilde's plan, heading south carried with it the possibility of complete destruction. Therefore, the Myuri Mercenary Company changed course, entering the mountain road that led to Svernel.

Output:
However, this was an army on the march with possibility hanging over them that an enormous enemy might assault them from the rear at any moment. Furthermore, Lawrence himself was nothing more than extra baggage. Rather, it was Hilde, who had created this circumstance, who deserved all the credit for the brilliance of his strategy. That was why, even as Hilde slept within the wicker cage, that cage had been moved from Lawrence's wagon bed to one of the mercenary wagons that carried their equipment and supplies.
Having no feel for the land, Lawrence could not function as a guide, of course; neither could he work in tandem with the mercenaries. Furthermore, Lawrence's horse-drawn wagon was fundamentally unsuited to traveling along mountain roads, and snow-covered roads all the more so; there was no small chance of the wagon wheels getting stuck.
Though the same went for the wagons belonging to the mercenary company, Lawrence's baggage was for his own benefit and had little to do with the mercenaries themselves.
Neither Luward nor Moizi had shown any sign of displeasure whatsoever, but the same did not go for their subordinates.
Getting someone to help a person get a stuck wagon wheel out of the snow was no different than finding a needle in a haystack.
Besides, Lawrence had other reasons for his mood not lightening the entire time. Luward and Moizi had clearly anticipated it when they had looked at the spread-out map.
Even as a person thought, If we're lucky, the season will soon be over, one also thought, Isn't it time already? Won't it ever change?, and so on. And thanks to a single sentence thrown their way, the predeparture nighttime meal was long exhausted, with the time now reaching the beloved hour of breakfast.
The slope suddenly increased, the road narrowed, and the horse-drawn wagon was no longer able to progress. At Moizi's command, the mercenary group's baggage was brought down from its wagons, and the horse-drawn wagons were overturned on the spot. Experienced hands removed the wheels of the wagons with sleds installed in their stead. Such equipment was natural for those considering marching an army through the winter. However, Lawrence's horse-drawn weapon was not so well made as to have such tricks in store.
Though it was not a cheap thing, either.
Not having had the courage to sit on the wagon bed on this winter road from the start, Lawrence had been walking ahead of his horse, leading it by the reins the whole time, but thanks to that, now that they were stopped his sweat was rapidly cooling his body.
Even so, the chill he felt that moment was not because of the cold. It was because Moizi came rushing over during a pause between giving orders.
"Mr. Lawrence."
It was not unusual for a mercenary on the march to bear a grim face.
However, to a merchant's eyes, accustomed to reading the expressions on people's faces, Lawrence could clearly see that he had come to say something unpalatable.
"The wagon, you mean?"
So, when Lawrence said it first, Moizi looked at Lawrence with earnest eyes, his expression not softening one fragment as he nodded. "It must be a difficult decision for a merchant."
Abandon your wagon, in other words.
For the independent selling everything save his life for the sake of money, buying one was the fulfillment of a fond wish. The assets Lawrence had amassed for several years that had ridden with him served as proof that he was a proper traveling merchant.
The odds of losing it during his travels had not been low. There were times when his wagon wheels had been stuck in the mud while traveling alone, and he wondered if it was all over. Even so, right now the wagon wheels were neither stuck in snow nor broken.
But to advance any farther, it had to be abandoned.
"I knew this was coming."
Lawrence managed to smile, stoutly waving it off.
It was much harder than walking away from the deposit he had paid for the store.