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

Input:
Please wait, do not touch that silver! That is a holy woman who has been blessed by God!
Those words also marked the birth of a pilgrimage tourist attraction.
If the miracle of the holy woman really did happen, then the archbishop would not have handled the earth so carelessly after she stood by his side at night. Then the townspeople, no matter how greedy, would be unable to mine for silver. If they could not mine for silver, then the Debau Company had no need to bare its fangs.
Then, if people came and offered money, they would be able to open a little inn there.
"There were many rough edges, but it all rounded out quite nicely."
Holo was unusually impressed.
"That's only because you fought for it until the very end."
That was not modesty. The time when they would have been breathlessly convinced that something good was waiting for them at the end of the road had already passed. As it brought about peace, it also created a feeling similar to resignation that things that were meant to be would be.
On their journey some ten-odd years ago, the one that would have cared the most about Aram and the others would definitely have been himself. He could imagine it—there was no mistaking that he would have raised a stink when he got a whiff of the profit he could make off a conflict of interest surrounding unexploited silver. In the process, he would have reached out a hand to Selim, unable to leave her out of the excitement; then Holo would grow jealous and there would have been a fight and a big commotion...
But about that last part, it was not as though Lady Holo the Wisewolf had already forgiven him.
"So, did you enjoy riding on that girl?" his wife inquired with a smile.
And Lawrence lay in bed, and Holo sat in a chair beside it. She held a bowl full of porridge in one hand and scooped some with a spoon and was feeding him.
Though it was fine clinging to Selim's back, heading to Lenos as a part of the plan, he could not win against his age. He had gotten all muddy and used up all his strength in the festival event, then traveled to Lenos for two whole days in the cold wind, and then turned right around and journeyed almost a week with the archbishop—there was no way he could have endured such an exhausting journey hale and hearty.
That night after seeing through Svernel's situation, he was seized by a high fever and collapsed.
He had nightmares for three days and three nights, and his fever was only now subsiding.
"She had silver fur."
"Hmm."
Holo blew on the porridge in the spoon to cool it down and fed it to him properly.
"She was about two sizes smaller than you. A bit bigger than a big cow."
"Mm."
"I don't really know how fast she was going."
She scooped up more from the bowl and blew on it.
"And?"
When she asked him that, he realized.
She wanted to be mad.
"Yeah...It might have been because she was young, but her fur was really soft— Mgh!"
She shoved the spoon into his mouth as he spoke.
Holo, smiling, rattled the spoon around in his mouth.
Lawrence somehow bit into it and held fast until she let go.
He had a feeling he knew why she wanted to be angry.
"I couldn't have predicted how it would end from the start. I was doing my best when I thought of how to round out those rough edges."
And he had not thought of what to do after he had grabbed a hold of those edges.
Holo stared at Lawrence and slowly wagged her tail back and forth. She looked like a wolf who was ready to move immediately whether her prey ran left or right.
He did not know how long the silence lasted, and when Holo slowly took the spoon from Lawrence's hand, she scooped some more porridge and blew on it.
Then, she ate it herself.
"You fool."
Though since after eating some herself for a bit, she started to slowly feed Lawrence again, she was probably not truly angry at him. She might have gotten angry if he had lumped them together, like a dog asserting its territory.

Output:
So in terms of where she should go, there was a bathhouse right nearby that needed some help. Furthermore, that bathhouse was looking for people who would work hard and not be surprised even if they knew the secret that the mistress of the house had the ears and tails of an animal.
Even Holo knew the answer of what she should do.
But much like Lawrence knew all about Holo, Holo knew all about Lawrence.
"You fancy the ill-fated, weak girls, aye? Mm?"
She did not cool the porridge she scooped and, still hot, brought it close to his face.
It is often said that one should not interfere with lover's quarrels, but this porridge would soon interfere with his mouth.
"But you, too...Hot! H— Ho!"
In a fluster, he reached for the ale that sat by his bed.
Holo paid no mind to him and simply ate the porridge in the spoon herself.
"'Tis how I am adorably envious."
"...That was too much."
He did not have any burns, but his mouth stung.
Lawrence spoke to Holo as she ate the porridge.
"Thank you for looking after me."
Holo's ears stood straight up.
"I do not mind. I am the very model of a loving wife."
"Sure."
She was probably truly worried about him. When he finally woke up, the first thing he had said was that he was hungry, and she was so relieved that she was somehow irritated.
Though she was called the wisewolf and had many things at her disposal, she could not completely control her own emotions sometimes.
But he did not mind being played with because of that.
"I want to go back to the bathhouse soon."
Holo, who ended up eating half of the porridge, gave a satisfied sigh and spoke.
"Well, we have no work for a while. You must rest properly for now."
Prompted by her, he lay down in the bed, and she pulled the covers up over his shoulders.
"See, good children must close their eyes now."
How old do you think I am? he thought, but he did not mind being treated like a child.
As she gently kissed his forehead and cheeks, he drifted off into sleep.
He felt as though he was with Holo all throughout his dreams.
***
The mountains were dyed the color of fire in this busy season of preparing for winter.
The hot spring village Nyohhira, deep in the northern mountains, saw the end of the short summer and was now just waiting for winter to come.
The wind grew colder every day, and the sound of falling leaves occasionally brought about something that felt like sadness. There are those that called it depression, but it felt more like sleepiness. It was a drowsy time before the coming of a quiet winter.
He did not hate it.
"Mr. Lawrence, should I put the cheeses from Alvo in the cellar?"
"Yeah, thanks, Col. Just put them anywhere...Whoa, they're big."
That day, when it truly became fall, everyone was working hard in their preparations to fill the bellies of the guests who would come to this bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf. The two men were sorting out the goods they received from the neighboring village. The cheeses they stacked were each so large that a full grown adult could barely carry one.
"The bigger they are, the more edible parts there are...Right?"
"Because the hard, outer skin tastes terrible and is practically inedible, right? There's less wasted in bigger cheese, but...This is huge. I think the mayor of Alvo would make more money if he quit and opened a cheese shop."
The inside of the gleaming, amber-colored cheese also felt quite substantial.
"I've heard it's hard to make them bigger. If you don't strain the water well enough, apparently, it will get moldy inside."
"Then...let's pray that we don't cut it open to find it full of mold."
"Ha-ha. Their mayor has the heart of a craftsman, so I don't think that'll happen." Lawrence, the master of Spice and Wolf, laughed. It has been ten-some years since he came to this land and started a bathhouse, and though he still could not get away from the other villagers' newcomer treatment, he was already quite used to life here.


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

Input:
So in terms of where she should go, there was a bathhouse right nearby that needed some help. Furthermore, that bathhouse was looking for people who would work hard and not be surprised even if they knew the secret that the mistress of the house had the ears and tails of an animal.
Even Holo knew the answer of what she should do.
But much like Lawrence knew all about Holo, Holo knew all about Lawrence.
"You fancy the ill-fated, weak girls, aye? Mm?"
She did not cool the porridge she scooped and, still hot, brought it close to his face.
It is often said that one should not interfere with lover's quarrels, but this porridge would soon interfere with his mouth.
"But you, too...Hot! H— Ho!"
In a fluster, he reached for the ale that sat by his bed.
Holo paid no mind to him and simply ate the porridge in the spoon herself.
"'Tis how I am adorably envious."
"...That was too much."
He did not have any burns, but his mouth stung.
Lawrence spoke to Holo as she ate the porridge.
"Thank you for looking after me."
Holo's ears stood straight up.
"I do not mind. I am the very model of a loving wife."
"Sure."
She was probably truly worried about him. When he finally woke up, the first thing he had said was that he was hungry, and she was so relieved that she was somehow irritated.
Though she was called the wisewolf and had many things at her disposal, she could not completely control her own emotions sometimes.
But he did not mind being played with because of that.
"I want to go back to the bathhouse soon."
Holo, who ended up eating half of the porridge, gave a satisfied sigh and spoke.
"Well, we have no work for a while. You must rest properly for now."
Prompted by her, he lay down in the bed, and she pulled the covers up over his shoulders.
"See, good children must close their eyes now."
How old do you think I am? he thought, but he did not mind being treated like a child.
As she gently kissed his forehead and cheeks, he drifted off into sleep.
He felt as though he was with Holo all throughout his dreams.
***
The mountains were dyed the color of fire in this busy season of preparing for winter.
The hot spring village Nyohhira, deep in the northern mountains, saw the end of the short summer and was now just waiting for winter to come.
The wind grew colder every day, and the sound of falling leaves occasionally brought about something that felt like sadness. There are those that called it depression, but it felt more like sleepiness. It was a drowsy time before the coming of a quiet winter.
He did not hate it.
"Mr. Lawrence, should I put the cheeses from Alvo in the cellar?"
"Yeah, thanks, Col. Just put them anywhere...Whoa, they're big."
That day, when it truly became fall, everyone was working hard in their preparations to fill the bellies of the guests who would come to this bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf. The two men were sorting out the goods they received from the neighboring village. The cheeses they stacked were each so large that a full grown adult could barely carry one.
"The bigger they are, the more edible parts there are...Right?"
"Because the hard, outer skin tastes terrible and is practically inedible, right? There's less wasted in bigger cheese, but...This is huge. I think the mayor of Alvo would make more money if he quit and opened a cheese shop."
The inside of the gleaming, amber-colored cheese also felt quite substantial.
"I've heard it's hard to make them bigger. If you don't strain the water well enough, apparently, it will get moldy inside."
"Then...let's pray that we don't cut it open to find it full of mold."
"Ha-ha. Their mayor has the heart of a craftsman, so I don't think that'll happen." Lawrence, the master of Spice and Wolf, laughed. It has been ten-some years since he came to this land and started a bathhouse, and though he still could not get away from the other villagers' newcomer treatment, he was already quite used to life here.

Output:
"Then, I'll go put these away...I'm a bit worried that the shelves might break since they're so big, though."
It seemed too much to bring it up onto his shoulders, so though awkward, he held onto it with both hands like a baby lamb.
As he tottered around to the back of the main building, he could hear the lively voices coming from the baths beyond the partition.
Summer and winter were Nyohhira's peak seasons, and it was now around the time when guests for the winter were starting to arrive.
Most of the patrons were nobility or the directors of huge commercial firms or high-ranking clergy, so once they were finished managing the many festivals and events in the spring and fall, they would come to unwind.
There were already several guests at Spice and Wolf, and they were lazily spending their day in the outdoor bath.
As of yet, the number of guests were few, so the dancers and musicians who made their earnings in Nyohhira during the winter were nowhere to be seen, and it was quiet throughout town.
What he could hear beyond the partition was a rather heated commotion.
"Wa-ha-ha-ha! You can do it!"
"Here, drink, drink! Put your heart into it!"
They were rather lively for how high the sun was in the sky.
And for some reason, he could hear the clop, clop of a horse's hooves on stone.
What on earth was going on in there?
Customers in the baths typically lost track of time once they became drunk. But that was usually when there were more people, more alcohol, and after they grew bored of staying in for a long while.
But this made him a bit uneasy, and still holding the cheese, he waddled to the partition and peeked through the crack.
"Make sure the rope doesn't break! Did you tie it right?!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Shield! The shield! The shield is...Ba-ha-ha-ha!"
"Go, goddess of ours!"
"Yes! May God watch over you!"
It was an unusual amount of excitement. It seemed that guests from other bathhouses had come, too.
The naked men were all generally holding a mug of drink in one hand, waving it around, and cheering.
He could not see well through the steam of the baths, but he knew immediately what the clopping sound was coming from.
It was a mule. A pack mule was stomping around by the side of the bath. There was a boy, a nervous expression on his face, trying to keep it calm. It was the boy who brought the goods from Alvo on his pack mule.
But why was it in the bath?
A clue to his question was the thick rope that extended from its yoke.
The people were looking at the end of the taut rope, which went to the top of the bath.
"...Wh-wha..."
He was at a loss for words. There stood a girl, raising her hands to the cheers and smiling at everybody.
She did not seem to mind that the men were naked and only wore thin linen wrapped around her chest and hips. Though since the baths were not separated by gender that in itself was not unusual, but she, for some reason, was wearing rough-looking gloves.
"...Wh-what?"
He had a fiercely unpleasant feeling.
There in the middle of the cheers was the bathhouse owner's—Lawrence's—only daughter, Myuri.
She would be twelve or thirteen this year, an age where it would not be unusual to be wed off early. Typically, this was around the time when she would be practicing needlework or cooking every day, preparing to support her husband as a good wife or saddling the household's prosperity as a mother.
But for some reason, here she was half-naked, wearing roughly hewn gloves, holding the rope of a mule that had been brought into the baths. And even still, Myuri was standing atop something odd.
He remembered what the guests were saying: "Shield, shield."


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

Input:
"Then, I'll go put these away...I'm a bit worried that the shelves might break since they're so big, though."
It seemed too much to bring it up onto his shoulders, so though awkward, he held onto it with both hands like a baby lamb.
As he tottered around to the back of the main building, he could hear the lively voices coming from the baths beyond the partition.
Summer and winter were Nyohhira's peak seasons, and it was now around the time when guests for the winter were starting to arrive.
Most of the patrons were nobility or the directors of huge commercial firms or high-ranking clergy, so once they were finished managing the many festivals and events in the spring and fall, they would come to unwind.
There were already several guests at Spice and Wolf, and they were lazily spending their day in the outdoor bath.
As of yet, the number of guests were few, so the dancers and musicians who made their earnings in Nyohhira during the winter were nowhere to be seen, and it was quiet throughout town.
What he could hear beyond the partition was a rather heated commotion.
"Wa-ha-ha-ha! You can do it!"
"Here, drink, drink! Put your heart into it!"
They were rather lively for how high the sun was in the sky.
And for some reason, he could hear the clop, clop of a horse's hooves on stone.
What on earth was going on in there?
Customers in the baths typically lost track of time once they became drunk. But that was usually when there were more people, more alcohol, and after they grew bored of staying in for a long while.
But this made him a bit uneasy, and still holding the cheese, he waddled to the partition and peeked through the crack.
"Make sure the rope doesn't break! Did you tie it right?!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Shield! The shield! The shield is...Ba-ha-ha-ha!"
"Go, goddess of ours!"
"Yes! May God watch over you!"
It was an unusual amount of excitement. It seemed that guests from other bathhouses had come, too.
The naked men were all generally holding a mug of drink in one hand, waving it around, and cheering.
He could not see well through the steam of the baths, but he knew immediately what the clopping sound was coming from.
It was a mule. A pack mule was stomping around by the side of the bath. There was a boy, a nervous expression on his face, trying to keep it calm. It was the boy who brought the goods from Alvo on his pack mule.
But why was it in the bath?
A clue to his question was the thick rope that extended from its yoke.
The people were looking at the end of the taut rope, which went to the top of the bath.
"...Wh-wha..."
He was at a loss for words. There stood a girl, raising her hands to the cheers and smiling at everybody.
She did not seem to mind that the men were naked and only wore thin linen wrapped around her chest and hips. Though since the baths were not separated by gender that in itself was not unusual, but she, for some reason, was wearing rough-looking gloves.
"...Wh-what?"
He had a fiercely unpleasant feeling.
There in the middle of the cheers was the bathhouse owner's—Lawrence's—only daughter, Myuri.
She would be twelve or thirteen this year, an age where it would not be unusual to be wed off early. Typically, this was around the time when she would be practicing needlework or cooking every day, preparing to support her husband as a good wife or saddling the household's prosperity as a mother.
But for some reason, here she was half-naked, wearing roughly hewn gloves, holding the rope of a mule that had been brought into the baths. And even still, Myuri was standing atop something odd.
He remembered what the guests were saying: "Shield, shield."

Output:
That was when she yelled, standing atop the shields.
"Ready!"
She raised one hand, raising a cry like a knight in the battlefield, and he could almost hear her lift the corner of her mouth and clench her teeth.
She was looking at the mule. Next to the mule was the boy, who looked like he was about to cry. At the prompting of the cheers, he closed his eyes as though he had no choice and hit its rump with his stick.
"Charge!"
Though he was not sure if that is exactly what she said.
Everything happened in an instant, and while the entire world was paused, only Myuri, atop the shield, slid to the side.
Pulled by the rope, both Myuri and the shield slid across the water. It slid so fast and so cleanly on the water that it was almost funny. The audience gave a loud cheer and tossed their mugs. There was a loud clunk as the shield hit the edge of the bath.
"Ohhh!"
Myuri's slender body flew into the air with the shield, but she did not fall. It hit the ground with a sound that pierced the air, and the mule pulled them along the wet stone. It was so skillfully done, Col could not speak.
He snapped out of it when he saw the excited guests all begin to run around, and the blood drained from his face.
He abandoned the cheese and ran after Myuri with the guests. Beyond the trail on the rocks left by the shield was the forest, covered in fallen leaves. Then there was a downward slope, and the mule likely ran as fast as it could. A single dark path of earth was carved into the carpet of leaves, and it gradually turned right.
Then, the path suddenly stopped.
These men, who once they returned home all had positions of power and fame and fortune, were making a big ruckus naked in the forest. Standing in the middle of it all, big grin on her face, was a girl who looked like she had been raised from the dead, covered in leaves and mud.
The men lifted Myuri up and carried her back up the hill.
When the cackling girl realized who was waiting for her, her face stiffened for a moment.
But when he glared at her, being carried by the men, she immediately pretended not to notice.
He was not filled with anger, but exasperation.
He followed after Myuri, whom the men were cheering on, and he heard the sound of her being thrown into the bath. When she poked her head out of the water, she had a refreshed look on her face. Her beautiful forehead, now clear of mud and leaves, was covered in scratch-like cuts. Cuts on her maiden face!
But Myuri did not mind and waved to the guests cheering around her, then swam to the edge. He bent his knees and held his hand out to her, and she took it calmly.
"Eh-heh-heh, did you see that? Wasn't it awesome?"
Myuri's innocent smile has never changed.
He sighed and pulled her slim body up.
"Are you hurt?"
"Nope, not at all," she said, but there were skid marks all over her forehead and cheeks, and her long legs were the same as well.
However, for Myuri, these did not fall under the category of "injury."
Under her hair, which was the strange color of silver specks in ash, one could find many scars from her childhood. He did not know how many times he had fainted at the sight of a blood-smeared Myuri.
"Get changed and come to the fire."
"Oh, are you gonna braid my hair?!"
"It's a scolding!" he yelled at her and she drew up her shoulders, but her expression was that of annoyance. "Your answer?"
"...Fine."
Guests that stayed for a while found these sorts of usual occurrences amusing, but it was not funny to those who had to clean up after Myuri. First, going into the bath covered in mud and dead leaves was inexcusable, and they had to fix the stone arrangements that the shield had broken. Then, they had to find that unlucky boy from the neighboring village and apologize to him.


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

Input:
That was when she yelled, standing atop the shields.
"Ready!"
She raised one hand, raising a cry like a knight in the battlefield, and he could almost hear her lift the corner of her mouth and clench her teeth.
She was looking at the mule. Next to the mule was the boy, who looked like he was about to cry. At the prompting of the cheers, he closed his eyes as though he had no choice and hit its rump with his stick.
"Charge!"
Though he was not sure if that is exactly what she said.
Everything happened in an instant, and while the entire world was paused, only Myuri, atop the shield, slid to the side.
Pulled by the rope, both Myuri and the shield slid across the water. It slid so fast and so cleanly on the water that it was almost funny. The audience gave a loud cheer and tossed their mugs. There was a loud clunk as the shield hit the edge of the bath.
"Ohhh!"
Myuri's slender body flew into the air with the shield, but she did not fall. It hit the ground with a sound that pierced the air, and the mule pulled them along the wet stone. It was so skillfully done, Col could not speak.
He snapped out of it when he saw the excited guests all begin to run around, and the blood drained from his face.
He abandoned the cheese and ran after Myuri with the guests. Beyond the trail on the rocks left by the shield was the forest, covered in fallen leaves. Then there was a downward slope, and the mule likely ran as fast as it could. A single dark path of earth was carved into the carpet of leaves, and it gradually turned right.
Then, the path suddenly stopped.
These men, who once they returned home all had positions of power and fame and fortune, were making a big ruckus naked in the forest. Standing in the middle of it all, big grin on her face, was a girl who looked like she had been raised from the dead, covered in leaves and mud.
The men lifted Myuri up and carried her back up the hill.
When the cackling girl realized who was waiting for her, her face stiffened for a moment.
But when he glared at her, being carried by the men, she immediately pretended not to notice.
He was not filled with anger, but exasperation.
He followed after Myuri, whom the men were cheering on, and he heard the sound of her being thrown into the bath. When she poked her head out of the water, she had a refreshed look on her face. Her beautiful forehead, now clear of mud and leaves, was covered in scratch-like cuts. Cuts on her maiden face!
But Myuri did not mind and waved to the guests cheering around her, then swam to the edge. He bent his knees and held his hand out to her, and she took it calmly.
"Eh-heh-heh, did you see that? Wasn't it awesome?"
Myuri's innocent smile has never changed.
He sighed and pulled her slim body up.
"Are you hurt?"
"Nope, not at all," she said, but there were skid marks all over her forehead and cheeks, and her long legs were the same as well.
However, for Myuri, these did not fall under the category of "injury."
Under her hair, which was the strange color of silver specks in ash, one could find many scars from her childhood. He did not know how many times he had fainted at the sight of a blood-smeared Myuri.
"Get changed and come to the fire."
"Oh, are you gonna braid my hair?!"
"It's a scolding!" he yelled at her and she drew up her shoulders, but her expression was that of annoyance. "Your answer?"
"...Fine."
Guests that stayed for a while found these sorts of usual occurrences amusing, but it was not funny to those who had to clean up after Myuri. First, going into the bath covered in mud and dead leaves was inexcusable, and they had to fix the stone arrangements that the shield had broken. Then, they had to find that unlucky boy from the neighboring village and apologize to him.

Output:
"Put on some warm clothes."
"Okay."
He sent her off into the main building and sighed, then went to retrieve the cheese he had left behind. There, he heard Myuri, calling back to him.
"Hey, brother!"
"...What is it?"
Myuri, still dripping wet, stood in the doorway, a bit of a praiseworthy air around her. When she was behaving, she seemed like a little girl who got caught in the rain.
"...Wasn't it amazing?"
Look, look, brother, I caught a really big fish!
She has not changed since her innocent childhood.
Through his shock, his face smiled on its own.
"That's...Yes, it was amazing...I could hardly believe my eyes."
"Ha-ha-ha, yay!"
She bounced in place and then entered the main house.
She did not seem to regret her actions one bit.
But it was true that it was "amazing." He would never have dared to do such a thing or even think of it.
When he thought this, he shook his head. It was his job as her pseudo older brother to reprimand her for her tomboyishness. She was supposed to be ladylike and become a proper wife.
"All right."
For the time being, he did his best to carry the cheese. And once that was over, he took his place in front of the stove, scripture in one hand. Although he waited and waited, Myuri did not come.
He went to check on her in her room, and he found her napping happily.
"Heh-heh-heh."
When Col told the story during their meal, a girl with the same face as Myuri laughed.
But there was a strange bit of intensity to this laugh, and the color of her hair was different. At a glance, she looked like a teenage girl, just like Myuri, but she was actually several hundred years old and the avatar of the wolf-that-lived-in-wheat—Holo the Wisewolf.
Holo, with big triangular ears on her head and tail wagging from her behind, was Myuri's mother and the good wife of Lawrence, the master of the Spice and Wolf bathhouse.
"It is not something to laugh about..."
"'Tis fine. She is unhurt in the end, is she not?"
"Is it all right to call this unhurt?"
Myuri, devouring her food, was covered in bandages from her face to her arms. Underneath the bandages, Lawrence had lathered on a special ointment that contained a bit of herb, pig fat, and sulfur. He had been astonished when he saw all her cuts and forced the bandages onto her, so that her injuries would not leave any scars.
"Father and brother are making too big a deal of it."
"It's fine that it ended all right, but if it didn't, you would be seriously hurt."
Col complained, but she just shrugged her slim shoulders.
He sighed anxiously, and Holo cackled.
"But where did the master of the house run off to?"
"Mr. Lawrence? He had Myuri help him find the Alvo boy's mule, and he went straight to the village to apologize. He said it will affect their delivery of goods later."
Since Nyohhira was deep in the mountains, there was a limit on how much material could be brought in. Should their relationship with the surrounding areas grow worse, then it was possible they could fold due to just that.
"It's fine," said Myuri, the one whose fault this all was.
"What made you say that?" he asked, and Myuri wiggled the same ears and tail as her mother. She took the lingonberry-honey jam, the fruit they had collected off a mountain in the forest over the summer, and spread it on the tough rye bread. For the moment, she put aside the question and bit into the loaf, overflowing with honey. The hair on her ears and tail bristled at the sourness.
Usually, unlike her mother Holo, she had her ears and tail put away, but they would occasionally show themselves when her emotions peaked, such as in astonishment or anger. It seemed that typically, it was more natural for them to be out.
"Wha d'yu mean...om nom. Besides, that kid likes me."
***
Holo burst out laughing at his shock.
"Males are fools."
"Yep, yep."
He had nothing more to say to Myuri, as she added salt to her mushroom soup and slurped it down.


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

Input:
"Put on some warm clothes."
"Okay."
He sent her off into the main building and sighed, then went to retrieve the cheese he had left behind. There, he heard Myuri, calling back to him.
"Hey, brother!"
"...What is it?"
Myuri, still dripping wet, stood in the doorway, a bit of a praiseworthy air around her. When she was behaving, she seemed like a little girl who got caught in the rain.
"...Wasn't it amazing?"
Look, look, brother, I caught a really big fish!
She has not changed since her innocent childhood.
Through his shock, his face smiled on its own.
"That's...Yes, it was amazing...I could hardly believe my eyes."
"Ha-ha-ha, yay!"
She bounced in place and then entered the main house.
She did not seem to regret her actions one bit.
But it was true that it was "amazing." He would never have dared to do such a thing or even think of it.
When he thought this, he shook his head. It was his job as her pseudo older brother to reprimand her for her tomboyishness. She was supposed to be ladylike and become a proper wife.
"All right."
For the time being, he did his best to carry the cheese. And once that was over, he took his place in front of the stove, scripture in one hand. Although he waited and waited, Myuri did not come.
He went to check on her in her room, and he found her napping happily.
"Heh-heh-heh."
When Col told the story during their meal, a girl with the same face as Myuri laughed.
But there was a strange bit of intensity to this laugh, and the color of her hair was different. At a glance, she looked like a teenage girl, just like Myuri, but she was actually several hundred years old and the avatar of the wolf-that-lived-in-wheat—Holo the Wisewolf.
Holo, with big triangular ears on her head and tail wagging from her behind, was Myuri's mother and the good wife of Lawrence, the master of the Spice and Wolf bathhouse.
"It is not something to laugh about..."
"'Tis fine. She is unhurt in the end, is she not?"
"Is it all right to call this unhurt?"
Myuri, devouring her food, was covered in bandages from her face to her arms. Underneath the bandages, Lawrence had lathered on a special ointment that contained a bit of herb, pig fat, and sulfur. He had been astonished when he saw all her cuts and forced the bandages onto her, so that her injuries would not leave any scars.
"Father and brother are making too big a deal of it."
"It's fine that it ended all right, but if it didn't, you would be seriously hurt."
Col complained, but she just shrugged her slim shoulders.
He sighed anxiously, and Holo cackled.
"But where did the master of the house run off to?"
"Mr. Lawrence? He had Myuri help him find the Alvo boy's mule, and he went straight to the village to apologize. He said it will affect their delivery of goods later."
Since Nyohhira was deep in the mountains, there was a limit on how much material could be brought in. Should their relationship with the surrounding areas grow worse, then it was possible they could fold due to just that.
"It's fine," said Myuri, the one whose fault this all was.
"What made you say that?" he asked, and Myuri wiggled the same ears and tail as her mother. She took the lingonberry-honey jam, the fruit they had collected off a mountain in the forest over the summer, and spread it on the tough rye bread. For the moment, she put aside the question and bit into the loaf, overflowing with honey. The hair on her ears and tail bristled at the sourness.
Usually, unlike her mother Holo, she had her ears and tail put away, but they would occasionally show themselves when her emotions peaked, such as in astonishment or anger. It seemed that typically, it was more natural for them to be out.
"Wha d'yu mean...om nom. Besides, that kid likes me."
***
Holo burst out laughing at his shock.
"Males are fools."
"Yep, yep."
He had nothing more to say to Myuri, as she added salt to her mushroom soup and slurped it down.

Output:
"Honestly..."
As Myuri began to look more and more like Holo, her father Lawrence would often find himself beaten in an argument instead. Holo had a broad-minded personality, and she did not mind the small things. So Col was the one who had to keep it together.
However, the struggle to make Myuri into a wonderful and ladylike daughter always felt in vain.
"Anyway, once you've finished eating, you're going to practice reading and writing."
"Nooo..."
"Don't give me that."
"Well, he's right; 'tis a good thing to be able to read and write."
Holo spoke, sprinkling a good helping of rock salt onto her cured pork and stuffing it into her mouth.
At her words, Myuri shrugged and looked at Holo, and her ears and tail drooped in obedience.
"...Okay."
The hierarchy of their group was clear.
Holo, Lawrence, himself, then Myuri.
Recently, Myuri was rising rapidly up this hierarchy, and when she seemed about to treat him cruelly, Holo would take the opportunity to intervene. Myuri would only ever listen to what Holo had to say. Perhaps the rules of the forest were entrenched in their blood. Before the wisewolf herself, a young pup behaved like a little dog.
"Then get ready and come to the room."
"Okay."
Myuri voiced her response in a bored tone, and in retaliation, reached for a new piece of bread.
As Col read the scriptures aloud in the candlelight, there came a knock on the door.
But the sound was rather near the floor.
Dubious, he opened the door, and there was Myuri, still covered in bandages, carrying a large blanket.
"Myuri, how many times have I told you not to kick the door?"
She gave no response and quickly entered the room, dumping the blanket onto the bed. He knew it was cold this time of year, and she did not have the luxury of a stove and the sort in her own room, but she also had a sheep's wool pillow, for some reason.
"Mother went to get father. Mother said she'll shear all the hair off on my tail if I touch the stove, so let me sleep here tonight."
Holo was typically lenient with her, but of course, she was strict when it came to dealing with fire.
"I haven't slept here in forever! Ah-ha, the straw is so hard! Do you change it at all?"
Col's bed was made from the wild wheat that they used to feed the livestock—it was gathered into a bundle with a hemp sheet pulled over it. The stiffness Myuri felt beneath her was since she was light; there was no need to tie the bundle of straw tightly.
Col and Myuri often slept in the same bed when they were little, but after they grew up, they started to sleep separately. It was especially cold here, so wearing clothes to bed in the middle of winter would instead make one sick. It was normal to warm oneself through body heat.
Though that was typical, as a servant of God and as a good older brother, he wanted Myuri to have a maiden's sense of shyness. And there were the times he would be startled at how similar she looked to Holo in the darkness.
"If you do that, you really will fall asleep."
Myuri's specialty was the ability to fall asleep as soon as she lay down. Even now she had already gone quiet, and Col immediately pulled her up by the arm.
"Uuuu..."
"Come on, get up now!"
Even if he gripped her thin shoulders, her neck would lean at an angle.
But if she was truly sleepy, her tail would have been curled up, so she was merely acting.
"If you pretend any more, I'll have you sleep on the floor."
***
She cracked one eye open and giggled.
"You're always so angry, brother. It's in the scripture, right? 'Thou shalt not give in to anger!'"
"That's all you remember...?"
He sighed, and Myuri nimbly got out of the bed. She took the blanket and wrapped it around her, then sat in the chair.


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

Input:
"Honestly..."
As Myuri began to look more and more like Holo, her father Lawrence would often find himself beaten in an argument instead. Holo had a broad-minded personality, and she did not mind the small things. So Col was the one who had to keep it together.
However, the struggle to make Myuri into a wonderful and ladylike daughter always felt in vain.
"Anyway, once you've finished eating, you're going to practice reading and writing."
"Nooo..."
"Don't give me that."
"Well, he's right; 'tis a good thing to be able to read and write."
Holo spoke, sprinkling a good helping of rock salt onto her cured pork and stuffing it into her mouth.
At her words, Myuri shrugged and looked at Holo, and her ears and tail drooped in obedience.
"...Okay."
The hierarchy of their group was clear.
Holo, Lawrence, himself, then Myuri.
Recently, Myuri was rising rapidly up this hierarchy, and when she seemed about to treat him cruelly, Holo would take the opportunity to intervene. Myuri would only ever listen to what Holo had to say. Perhaps the rules of the forest were entrenched in their blood. Before the wisewolf herself, a young pup behaved like a little dog.
"Then get ready and come to the room."
"Okay."
Myuri voiced her response in a bored tone, and in retaliation, reached for a new piece of bread.
As Col read the scriptures aloud in the candlelight, there came a knock on the door.
But the sound was rather near the floor.
Dubious, he opened the door, and there was Myuri, still covered in bandages, carrying a large blanket.
"Myuri, how many times have I told you not to kick the door?"
She gave no response and quickly entered the room, dumping the blanket onto the bed. He knew it was cold this time of year, and she did not have the luxury of a stove and the sort in her own room, but she also had a sheep's wool pillow, for some reason.
"Mother went to get father. Mother said she'll shear all the hair off on my tail if I touch the stove, so let me sleep here tonight."
Holo was typically lenient with her, but of course, she was strict when it came to dealing with fire.
"I haven't slept here in forever! Ah-ha, the straw is so hard! Do you change it at all?"
Col's bed was made from the wild wheat that they used to feed the livestock—it was gathered into a bundle with a hemp sheet pulled over it. The stiffness Myuri felt beneath her was since she was light; there was no need to tie the bundle of straw tightly.
Col and Myuri often slept in the same bed when they were little, but after they grew up, they started to sleep separately. It was especially cold here, so wearing clothes to bed in the middle of winter would instead make one sick. It was normal to warm oneself through body heat.
Though that was typical, as a servant of God and as a good older brother, he wanted Myuri to have a maiden's sense of shyness. And there were the times he would be startled at how similar she looked to Holo in the darkness.
"If you do that, you really will fall asleep."
Myuri's specialty was the ability to fall asleep as soon as she lay down. Even now she had already gone quiet, and Col immediately pulled her up by the arm.
"Uuuu..."
"Come on, get up now!"
Even if he gripped her thin shoulders, her neck would lean at an angle.
But if she was truly sleepy, her tail would have been curled up, so she was merely acting.
"If you pretend any more, I'll have you sleep on the floor."
***
She cracked one eye open and giggled.
"You're always so angry, brother. It's in the scripture, right? 'Thou shalt not give in to anger!'"
"That's all you remember...?"
He sighed, and Myuri nimbly got out of the bed. She took the blanket and wrapped it around her, then sat in the chair.

Output:
"But I really am sleepy, so let's hurry up and finish this so I can sleep."
"I agree. If Mr. Lawrence does not come back tonight, then I must get up early to do the work tomorrow."
"You sound like I don't do any help at all."
"Then will you get up before dawn and break the ice in the well for me?"
Myuri's ears immediately flattened, and she began to scratch out the letters.
It was not that she was the lazy type and actually, she was a rather hard worker. The problem lay in the fact that Myuri was not a morning person, and it took her a while to get started on her work. And she would immediately get caught up in some foolishness if a guest egged her on.
Col watched the girl from behind, relieved, and once she had written about three lines, her tail began to fidget nervously.
"Aww, we've got another busy winter coming up, huh?"
Though Nyohhira had its fair share of visitors in the summer, the real deal was when the snow piled high in the winter, starting right around this time.
"You played a lot this spring, summer, and fall."
Since Nyohhira was in the north, the transition from spring to fall passed quickly, but there were still many fun things to do. In the spring they collected wild plants, in the summer they collected tree seeds and caught fish, and in the fall they harvested mushrooms and fruit. Hunting was also occasionally included.
"That's why I want to sleep during the winter."
"...I don't think wolves hibernate."
"Wolves don't study."
She always had a retort ready.
"Then you must be a child, since you hate studying and cause mischief all the time."
Lately, treating Myuri like a child would cause her to become angry.
"This is wrong."
He reached over her and pointed to a letter, and she scratched it away with her fingernail.
"I haven't done anything too bad," she muttered as she wrote.
He was exasperated at what she was trying to say, considering she used a shield as a sled and skidded across the baths.
"Then what would be something that is too bad?"
Scratching the letters onto the board, she shrugged her slender shoulders.
"Brother, what's this?"
"Like this."
It was when he drew his face in by her side and tried to take the branch to write an example for her.
Myuri suddenly reached out and clamped both of her hands onto his cheeks.
Before he realized it, her long eyelashes were directly in front of his eyes, and the tips of their noses were touching. And then their lips.
It seemed that one's body really could freeze. He could not move at all due to the suddenness of it all.
He could not breathe, and Myuri peeked one eye open, hesitating a bit before looking at him.
Her eyes were swimming feverishly, as though she would cry, and as though she was happy.
She leaned back and pursed her lips.
"Don't tell father, okay?" Myuri whispered, smiling, even though it still seemed as though she would cry.
It was too quiet—a deep silence that almost moved him.
He knew Myuri was quite attached to him, but this was impossible.
The moment he thought about it, something burned deep in his heart. Even though their lips were parted, he still could not breathe. His heart was beating loudly, and his chest hurt as though the blood had nowhere to go.
And then there was Myuri, looking down, embarrassed.
The unexpectedly rough feeling of her lips still remained, as well as the strong smell of sulfur, likely since she was in the water...Rough?
Myuri's lips remained a smooth cherry pink, even in winter.
As he thought something was amiss, Myuri let go of his face.
The bandages were pulled across her hands, creating a bridge. They were exactly the right width to fit perfectly over his mouth.
She looked up, her mouth forming a small pout, bearing a smile.
"This is father's special ointment, so I think it'll fix your dry lips, brother," she said, the smile of a demon on her face, and wagged her tail.
Col finally understood what she did to him and off came the lid on his thoughts.
All the blood in his chest rushed to his head at once.
"M-M-Myuri!"


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

Input:
"But I really am sleepy, so let's hurry up and finish this so I can sleep."
"I agree. If Mr. Lawrence does not come back tonight, then I must get up early to do the work tomorrow."
"You sound like I don't do any help at all."
"Then will you get up before dawn and break the ice in the well for me?"
Myuri's ears immediately flattened, and she began to scratch out the letters.
It was not that she was the lazy type and actually, she was a rather hard worker. The problem lay in the fact that Myuri was not a morning person, and it took her a while to get started on her work. And she would immediately get caught up in some foolishness if a guest egged her on.
Col watched the girl from behind, relieved, and once she had written about three lines, her tail began to fidget nervously.
"Aww, we've got another busy winter coming up, huh?"
Though Nyohhira had its fair share of visitors in the summer, the real deal was when the snow piled high in the winter, starting right around this time.
"You played a lot this spring, summer, and fall."
Since Nyohhira was in the north, the transition from spring to fall passed quickly, but there were still many fun things to do. In the spring they collected wild plants, in the summer they collected tree seeds and caught fish, and in the fall they harvested mushrooms and fruit. Hunting was also occasionally included.
"That's why I want to sleep during the winter."
"...I don't think wolves hibernate."
"Wolves don't study."
She always had a retort ready.
"Then you must be a child, since you hate studying and cause mischief all the time."
Lately, treating Myuri like a child would cause her to become angry.
"This is wrong."
He reached over her and pointed to a letter, and she scratched it away with her fingernail.
"I haven't done anything too bad," she muttered as she wrote.
He was exasperated at what she was trying to say, considering she used a shield as a sled and skidded across the baths.
"Then what would be something that is too bad?"
Scratching the letters onto the board, she shrugged her slender shoulders.
"Brother, what's this?"
"Like this."
It was when he drew his face in by her side and tried to take the branch to write an example for her.
Myuri suddenly reached out and clamped both of her hands onto his cheeks.
Before he realized it, her long eyelashes were directly in front of his eyes, and the tips of their noses were touching. And then their lips.
It seemed that one's body really could freeze. He could not move at all due to the suddenness of it all.
He could not breathe, and Myuri peeked one eye open, hesitating a bit before looking at him.
Her eyes were swimming feverishly, as though she would cry, and as though she was happy.
She leaned back and pursed her lips.
"Don't tell father, okay?" Myuri whispered, smiling, even though it still seemed as though she would cry.
It was too quiet—a deep silence that almost moved him.
He knew Myuri was quite attached to him, but this was impossible.
The moment he thought about it, something burned deep in his heart. Even though their lips were parted, he still could not breathe. His heart was beating loudly, and his chest hurt as though the blood had nowhere to go.
And then there was Myuri, looking down, embarrassed.
The unexpectedly rough feeling of her lips still remained, as well as the strong smell of sulfur, likely since she was in the water...Rough?
Myuri's lips remained a smooth cherry pink, even in winter.
As he thought something was amiss, Myuri let go of his face.
The bandages were pulled across her hands, creating a bridge. They were exactly the right width to fit perfectly over his mouth.
She looked up, her mouth forming a small pout, bearing a smile.
"This is father's special ointment, so I think it'll fix your dry lips, brother," she said, the smile of a demon on her face, and wagged her tail.
Col finally understood what she did to him and off came the lid on his thoughts.
All the blood in his chest rushed to his head at once.
"M-M-Myuri!"

Output:
"Gosh, don't get so mad at me."
"Y-y-you..."
"Don't worry, brother, your purity is safe," she said and pressed a slender finger against his lips. Obedience, purity, and asceticism were the three virtues that those who decided to serve God vowed to adhere to. Of course, it was not as though Myuri was thinking in a way that followed the teachings of a kind God.
However, Col did not know what to say to this sinful, frightening girl. And what's more, he did not know how to deal with the feelings that had welled up when their eyes met.
"...That's enough for today."
"What? Really?" Myuri exclaimed happily and jumped up from her chair. She unwrapped the blanket from around herself and neatly laid it on the bed.
When he pinched the flame on the candle, like killing a bug, the room fell into darkness. He slowly approached Myuri, who had not touched her blanket yet, from behind.
As though she had sensed him, she quickly whipped around.
"B-brother?"
Col did not reply and just reached out—
And took in his hand his own blanket.
"I will sleep on the floor."
"Huh?"
"I will sleep on the floor."
His reply was curt as he wrapped himself in the blanket and lay down on the floor.
"Huh, brother? Hey, wait, what, why?"
She truly sounded upset by this, but he would not have any of it.
"I came because it's too cold to sleep by myself..."
He reclined on the cold, hard floor and faced away from her.
He wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and single-mindedly recited the scripture.
May God protect me. May God forgive me for my sins...
"Hey, brother!"
He did not budge. Should he move, there were many things that could get messy.
After that, Myuri slept on her own and gave several fake-sounding sneezes, but in the end she slept soundly.
For several days afterward, she was just a bit more obedient.
She probably thought that Col was mad at her, but he was not.
It was for the foolish reason that he could not seriously look at her without becoming embarrassed.
The daughter of the wisewolf, Myuri.
She had quite the future ahead of her.
***
Wh-what...? You should have made up your mind that day, five years ago...!
Mwa-ha-ha-ha! Did I not say I was immortal?! I will come back to life over and over. Yes, over and over!
While that is not true, it is my first new book in five years. Isuna Hasekura here.
This book is comprised of three short stories that were printed in Dengeki Bunko Magazine's special home page (discussed later) and one new short novella. Chronologically, this takes place ten-some years after book 17.
The reason why I decided to publish this new novel was because I did not have any money...No, it was because when I was looking over material for a different series, May Your Soul Rest in Magdala, there were many things that had me thinking, This would fit Spice and Wolf much better than Magdala, and the manga version, drawn by Keito Koume-sensei, was plunging into the climax, so my supervisor's suggestion of publishing a short story collection in combination with promoting the manga version served as its inception. And then there was also the fact that it was the tenth anniversary of my first book, so my supervisor said we should do many things for that, and so we did.
But when I set out to write it, Holo and Lawrence's antics were not much of a problem, but the two children turned out to be much more of a handful than I thought, so I was in trouble. And then I remembered the old saying: "Let the troubled child go."


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

Input:
"Gosh, don't get so mad at me."
"Y-y-you..."
"Don't worry, brother, your purity is safe," she said and pressed a slender finger against his lips. Obedience, purity, and asceticism were the three virtues that those who decided to serve God vowed to adhere to. Of course, it was not as though Myuri was thinking in a way that followed the teachings of a kind God.
However, Col did not know what to say to this sinful, frightening girl. And what's more, he did not know how to deal with the feelings that had welled up when their eyes met.
"...That's enough for today."
"What? Really?" Myuri exclaimed happily and jumped up from her chair. She unwrapped the blanket from around herself and neatly laid it on the bed.
When he pinched the flame on the candle, like killing a bug, the room fell into darkness. He slowly approached Myuri, who had not touched her blanket yet, from behind.
As though she had sensed him, she quickly whipped around.
"B-brother?"
Col did not reply and just reached out—
And took in his hand his own blanket.
"I will sleep on the floor."
"Huh?"
"I will sleep on the floor."
His reply was curt as he wrapped himself in the blanket and lay down on the floor.
"Huh, brother? Hey, wait, what, why?"
She truly sounded upset by this, but he would not have any of it.
"I came because it's too cold to sleep by myself..."
He reclined on the cold, hard floor and faced away from her.
He wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and single-mindedly recited the scripture.
May God protect me. May God forgive me for my sins...
"Hey, brother!"
He did not budge. Should he move, there were many things that could get messy.
After that, Myuri slept on her own and gave several fake-sounding sneezes, but in the end she slept soundly.
For several days afterward, she was just a bit more obedient.
She probably thought that Col was mad at her, but he was not.
It was for the foolish reason that he could not seriously look at her without becoming embarrassed.
The daughter of the wisewolf, Myuri.
She had quite the future ahead of her.
***
Wh-what...? You should have made up your mind that day, five years ago...!
Mwa-ha-ha-ha! Did I not say I was immortal?! I will come back to life over and over. Yes, over and over!
While that is not true, it is my first new book in five years. Isuna Hasekura here.
This book is comprised of three short stories that were printed in Dengeki Bunko Magazine's special home page (discussed later) and one new short novella. Chronologically, this takes place ten-some years after book 17.
The reason why I decided to publish this new novel was because I did not have any money...No, it was because when I was looking over material for a different series, May Your Soul Rest in Magdala, there were many things that had me thinking, This would fit Spice and Wolf much better than Magdala, and the manga version, drawn by Keito Koume-sensei, was plunging into the climax, so my supervisor's suggestion of publishing a short story collection in combination with promoting the manga version served as its inception. And then there was also the fact that it was the tenth anniversary of my first book, so my supervisor said we should do many things for that, and so we did.
But when I set out to write it, Holo and Lawrence's antics were not much of a problem, but the two children turned out to be much more of a handful than I thought, so I was in trouble. And then I remembered the old saying: "Let the troubled child go."

Output:
Furthermore, there will be at least one more short collection for Spice and Wolf, so look forward to it and please take a look at Koume-sensei's exciting comic version of Spice and Wolf!
Also, the short stories we plan to publish in this new book are posted every month at Spice and Wolf & Isuna Hasekura 10th Anniversary Official Site (I get embarrassed writing that out myself). You can read them for free, so if there are those that cannot wait for the book, please take a visit. There are announcements for other tenth anniversary event things besides S&W, so please keep an eye out.
The URL is http://hasekuraisuna.jp.
Well then, I will keep working hard for the decade to come.
—Isuna Hasekura
***
No matter how much he cleaned, dust gathered in the corners of rooms, so of course the neglected shed grew messier throughout the years. He'd come searching for the hand mill he suddenly needed for a village event, but it was impossible to find.
"That's strange...I don't think I threw it away, and since Hanna doesn't use it, it should be here..."
Lawrence stood up, scratching his head, and exited the dusty shed for the moment.
"Can you not find it?"
Holo sat on a tree stump in front of the small structure, a knitted, woolen shawl draped over her shoulders. Had she sat quietly, she would have been the very image of a young, new bride, what with her loosely braided flaxen hair, the long skirt she wore, and that hint of childishness still in her face.
However, Holo was not as young as she appeared, and a wolf's tail, the same color as her hair, peeked out from under her clothes. It was not fur she carried to keep her warm but her actual tail, and its owner was the avatar of a wolf who had lived for several hundred years.
Over ten years earlier, she had met Lawrence, a traveling merchant at the time, and at the end of their journey, they had arrived at the northern hot springs of Nyohhira as husband and wife.
"I can't ask you to sniff out the smell of stone, huh?"
As the incarnation of a wolf, Holo had big, triangular animal ears on her head, and her sense of smell rivaled that of any hound. She could even sniff out something lost in the mountains, but a small millstone would likely be quite a feat.
"Had you slept with it in your arms every night, I may have."
"I'd probably suffer horribly if I cheated on you."
He could easily imagine Holo glaring at his pained self over a drink.
"Fool. I would tear you to shreds for such adultery."
She leaned forward and rested her chin on her palm, showing her fangs in a toothy grin.
Despite what she said, Lawrence thought that if anything like that did happen, she would be more sad than angry—and about how bringing tears to her eyes would be much more agonizing than being ripped apart.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
"As long as you make sure it stays in your puny mind."
Holo stood and hopped to the entrance of the shed, peeking inside.
"'Tis full of things."
"It's been ten years since we started the bathhouse. It's quite a collection now."
"Mm. 'Tis true, seeing this and that brings back memories."
The shed held things they typically used such as axes, saws, and hammers, as well as things that guests had forgotten or left in their care, all on top of spare parts for fixing broken chairs and the like. They all gave meaning to these past ten years.
"This netting as well...Had we not used this as a cradle for Myuri?"
Holo brushed a dust-covered netting that hung from the ceiling with her finger as she smiled with her eyes.
It had not exactly been intended as a replacement for a cradle but something they put their daughter in when it was impossible to divert any attention from their work, mostly because they never knew what sort of trouble the overly energetic Myuri would get into if they left her alone.


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

Input:
Furthermore, there will be at least one more short collection for Spice and Wolf, so look forward to it and please take a look at Koume-sensei's exciting comic version of Spice and Wolf!
Also, the short stories we plan to publish in this new book are posted every month at Spice and Wolf & Isuna Hasekura 10th Anniversary Official Site (I get embarrassed writing that out myself). You can read them for free, so if there are those that cannot wait for the book, please take a visit. There are announcements for other tenth anniversary event things besides S&W, so please keep an eye out.
The URL is http://hasekuraisuna.jp.
Well then, I will keep working hard for the decade to come.
—Isuna Hasekura
***
No matter how much he cleaned, dust gathered in the corners of rooms, so of course the neglected shed grew messier throughout the years. He'd come searching for the hand mill he suddenly needed for a village event, but it was impossible to find.
"That's strange...I don't think I threw it away, and since Hanna doesn't use it, it should be here..."
Lawrence stood up, scratching his head, and exited the dusty shed for the moment.
"Can you not find it?"
Holo sat on a tree stump in front of the small structure, a knitted, woolen shawl draped over her shoulders. Had she sat quietly, she would have been the very image of a young, new bride, what with her loosely braided flaxen hair, the long skirt she wore, and that hint of childishness still in her face.
However, Holo was not as young as she appeared, and a wolf's tail, the same color as her hair, peeked out from under her clothes. It was not fur she carried to keep her warm but her actual tail, and its owner was the avatar of a wolf who had lived for several hundred years.
Over ten years earlier, she had met Lawrence, a traveling merchant at the time, and at the end of their journey, they had arrived at the northern hot springs of Nyohhira as husband and wife.
"I can't ask you to sniff out the smell of stone, huh?"
As the incarnation of a wolf, Holo had big, triangular animal ears on her head, and her sense of smell rivaled that of any hound. She could even sniff out something lost in the mountains, but a small millstone would likely be quite a feat.
"Had you slept with it in your arms every night, I may have."
"I'd probably suffer horribly if I cheated on you."
He could easily imagine Holo glaring at his pained self over a drink.
"Fool. I would tear you to shreds for such adultery."
She leaned forward and rested her chin on her palm, showing her fangs in a toothy grin.
Despite what she said, Lawrence thought that if anything like that did happen, she would be more sad than angry—and about how bringing tears to her eyes would be much more agonizing than being ripped apart.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
"As long as you make sure it stays in your puny mind."
Holo stood and hopped to the entrance of the shed, peeking inside.
"'Tis full of things."
"It's been ten years since we started the bathhouse. It's quite a collection now."
"Mm. 'Tis true, seeing this and that brings back memories."
The shed held things they typically used such as axes, saws, and hammers, as well as things that guests had forgotten or left in their care, all on top of spare parts for fixing broken chairs and the like. They all gave meaning to these past ten years.
"This netting as well...Had we not used this as a cradle for Myuri?"
Holo brushed a dust-covered netting that hung from the ceiling with her finger as she smiled with her eyes.
It had not exactly been intended as a replacement for a cradle but something they put their daughter in when it was impossible to divert any attention from their work, mostly because they never knew what sort of trouble the overly energetic Myuri would get into if they left her alone.

Output:
The months and days since then had flown by in a flash.
"She fit so well in such a small thing."
"Yeah, she's grown up fast." Lawrence sighed as he spoke, because once her height had doubled, her energy seemingly quadrupled. "Hmm, oh, right."
"Mm?"
"Myuri used to mess around in here sometimes. She might've just taken it to use in one of her pranks."
Holo looked at him in puzzlement at first, then chuckled.
"'Tis quite possible. I recall she was interested in making ointments at one time."
Their daughter had delighted in collecting grasses and mushrooms for her pet project, grinding the ingredients with rocks and rolling the paste into balls. For some reason, all the village children had been obsessed.
"She may have considered it too much work to put it away and buried it someplace on the mountain."
"...I'll ask her."
Lawrence's sigh was clear this time as he placed a hand on the door.
"Hey, I'm closing up now."
Holo had been staring curiously around the shed and turned toward him when he spoke.
Then, as she was about to exit as requested, her gaze suddenly fixed on a corner of the room.
"What's wrong?"
"Mmm...I feel as though I may recall something..."
Holo reached toward an assortment of small objects sitting on a wooden shelf. Coated as the items were in grime and mold, it was hard to distinguish them by shape alone. She took one from the shelf, brushed off some dust, and rubbed it against the hem of her clothes, revealing a small glass vial.
"Ahh, aye."
As she looked at the vial, the hint of a smile appeared on her face.
"This...It may be next to impossible to find the mill."
"Huh?"
Just as he was about to ask what she meant, Lawrence finally realized.
The corners of his mouth drew upward on their own. It was, of course, a wry smile.
"That's right, I remember now."
"You obtained this vial on our journey so long ago, yes? Did Myuri not find it here and press questions upon us with her usual curiosity?"
Holo placed her hand on the cork of the vial as she spoke.
And then she removed the lid on Lawrence's memories.
He had come across that vial during his second spring with Holo.
Traveling merchants were much like migratory birds. From the snowy, northern countries to the warm climes and blue seas of the south, their year was spent traveling in all directions. Unlike town-based traders, they were not tied to land or people, so it was rather easy to move freely. The one difficulty was the inability to make close friends, the unchanging fact that no matter where they went, they would forever be an outsider. Even after death, they simply rotted away in the village they happened to be passing through or by the roadside, unbeknownst to anyone. Though their destinations welcomed merchants, along with the cargo and business they brought, this did not mean friendship.
It was hard to tell comfort and loneliness apart.
That was why logic dictated he should find someone to sit beside him in the driver's perch to bury the nighttime loneliness. He would simply have to endure losing part of his comfort.
"Why do we head east?"
He heard a voice from behind. She had happily sat beside him in the driver's perch up until three days before, when her mood took a turn for the worse.
He knew the reason.
"Didn't I tell you?"
Lawrence spoke, still gripping the reins, not bothering to look back.
It was spring, and though the wind was still chilly, the sun grew stronger and stronger with each day. The two were passing through endless fields of tall grass. Lawrence sensed that Holo was sulking in the wagon. Her tail was likely puffed out wide in anger. He sighed, but not because he had grown irritated with her selfishness.
"I wish we could go west, too. We've been living on the road for three weeks now. I want to splurge on a room with a wool-stuffed bed and drink wine to my heart's content. I want to wake up late, eat lunch with the windows open, and lazily gaze out on lively town streets."


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

Input:
The months and days since then had flown by in a flash.
"She fit so well in such a small thing."
"Yeah, she's grown up fast." Lawrence sighed as he spoke, because once her height had doubled, her energy seemingly quadrupled. "Hmm, oh, right."
"Mm?"
"Myuri used to mess around in here sometimes. She might've just taken it to use in one of her pranks."
Holo looked at him in puzzlement at first, then chuckled.
"'Tis quite possible. I recall she was interested in making ointments at one time."
Their daughter had delighted in collecting grasses and mushrooms for her pet project, grinding the ingredients with rocks and rolling the paste into balls. For some reason, all the village children had been obsessed.
"She may have considered it too much work to put it away and buried it someplace on the mountain."
"...I'll ask her."
Lawrence's sigh was clear this time as he placed a hand on the door.
"Hey, I'm closing up now."
Holo had been staring curiously around the shed and turned toward him when he spoke.
Then, as she was about to exit as requested, her gaze suddenly fixed on a corner of the room.
"What's wrong?"
"Mmm...I feel as though I may recall something..."
Holo reached toward an assortment of small objects sitting on a wooden shelf. Coated as the items were in grime and mold, it was hard to distinguish them by shape alone. She took one from the shelf, brushed off some dust, and rubbed it against the hem of her clothes, revealing a small glass vial.
"Ahh, aye."
As she looked at the vial, the hint of a smile appeared on her face.
"This...It may be next to impossible to find the mill."
"Huh?"
Just as he was about to ask what she meant, Lawrence finally realized.
The corners of his mouth drew upward on their own. It was, of course, a wry smile.
"That's right, I remember now."
"You obtained this vial on our journey so long ago, yes? Did Myuri not find it here and press questions upon us with her usual curiosity?"
Holo placed her hand on the cork of the vial as she spoke.
And then she removed the lid on Lawrence's memories.
He had come across that vial during his second spring with Holo.
Traveling merchants were much like migratory birds. From the snowy, northern countries to the warm climes and blue seas of the south, their year was spent traveling in all directions. Unlike town-based traders, they were not tied to land or people, so it was rather easy to move freely. The one difficulty was the inability to make close friends, the unchanging fact that no matter where they went, they would forever be an outsider. Even after death, they simply rotted away in the village they happened to be passing through or by the roadside, unbeknownst to anyone. Though their destinations welcomed merchants, along with the cargo and business they brought, this did not mean friendship.
It was hard to tell comfort and loneliness apart.
That was why logic dictated he should find someone to sit beside him in the driver's perch to bury the nighttime loneliness. He would simply have to endure losing part of his comfort.
"Why do we head east?"
He heard a voice from behind. She had happily sat beside him in the driver's perch up until three days before, when her mood took a turn for the worse.
He knew the reason.
"Didn't I tell you?"
Lawrence spoke, still gripping the reins, not bothering to look back.
It was spring, and though the wind was still chilly, the sun grew stronger and stronger with each day. The two were passing through endless fields of tall grass. Lawrence sensed that Holo was sulking in the wagon. Her tail was likely puffed out wide in anger. He sighed, but not because he had grown irritated with her selfishness.
"I wish we could go west, too. We've been living on the road for three weeks now. I want to splurge on a room with a wool-stuffed bed and drink wine to my heart's content. I want to wake up late, eat lunch with the windows open, and lazily gaze out on lively town streets."

Output:
That was because Lawrence was a traveling merchant, and he had a client to meet.
"And you have tossed such important things aside all for a chance to make money!"
"That's right. I love gold. Oh, beautiful lumione!"
Lawrence's voice was loud and exaggerated, and he could hear Holo's groan behind him.
Holo also understood that there was nothing to be done about the situation, but it had probably been unwise for her to assume they would stop for a break in a town.
"But the abbot at a monastery who I have known for many years through peddling has asked me a favor, so I have no choice but to go. And he's asked me to check on an unlucky lamb who was suddenly called home to serve as a lord, even though it was his family who decided to place him in the monastery at a young age. Not only will we be able to get close to this new young lord, who's probably facing great hardship from his ignorance about earthly matters and totally unable to tell his left from his right, but we might even have a chance to help him! Any merchant would go, and those who wouldn't...are definitely not merchants."
After a number of adventures, he had promised Holo he would no longer accept big jobs that would put them in danger, but not only did he believe this did not fall into that category, it was also novel work with promising profits.
The only thing they needed to offer in compensation was to slightly delay their rest, but in return, they would make the acquaintance of a feudal lord, and that was profit enough.
Holo was reluctant, and though she should have understood by now, still she argued.
"You..."
That deep voice was proof of her displeasure. If Lawrence continued in this manner and truly angered Holo, she would most certainly not allow him to have her warm tail under the blanket while he slept that night.
Though it was spring, it was still cold sleeping outside.
"I know, I know. Know that I'll make it up to you."
***
There was no response, so he sighed before continuing.
"Though the place where we're heading is small, it's still the house of a lord. Look forward to the hospitality..."
He spoke only up to that point before tapering off because he suddenly felt a lukewarm breath on the nape of his neck.
Holo could discern people's lies with those wolf ears of hers.
It was child's play for her to gauge the substance of his words.
Before she had a chance to nip the back of his neck, he gave up and turned around.
"I get it. I promise. If we get to the lord's house and they give this traveling merchant the cold shoulder, then we'll go to a nearby town. We'll spend our money there."
Even if it was not a wool and silk bed, they could no doubt secure a room with a roof and a bed stuffed with straw in any town around the area. Then dinner would likely consist of fresh pork or chicken or, at the very least, a hodgepodge of seasonal vegetables and mushrooms. They had almost come far enough south to reach lands where grapes were harvested, so wine would also be available in great quantities.
"I wish to bid farewell to cold porridge and spoiled ale."
Holo glared at him with accusatory eyes and kept her gaze trained on him for a while.
Then, she finally sighed deeply and audibly exhaled through her nose.
"And you absolutely must bathe."
"Huh?"
Surprised, Lawrence unwittingly sniffed his own clothes. He thought for a moment that he was still perfectly fine, but he suddenly reached a conclusion. Perhaps the reason why Holo wished to stop and rest at a town was for this very reason.
"If you wish to use my tail for warmth in the cold evenings, then you must clean yourself a tad more. I shall not tolerate any mites or lice!"
Holo was devoted to caring for her tail. Much like how a mercenary reveled in maintaining a polished blade and steeled muscles, her tail was her pride.
So despite Holo doing all she could to put up with her traveling companion, who seemed as though bugs wafted from him even at that very moment, it was apparent that she was at her limit.


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

Input:
That was because Lawrence was a traveling merchant, and he had a client to meet.
"And you have tossed such important things aside all for a chance to make money!"
"That's right. I love gold. Oh, beautiful lumione!"
Lawrence's voice was loud and exaggerated, and he could hear Holo's groan behind him.
Holo also understood that there was nothing to be done about the situation, but it had probably been unwise for her to assume they would stop for a break in a town.
"But the abbot at a monastery who I have known for many years through peddling has asked me a favor, so I have no choice but to go. And he's asked me to check on an unlucky lamb who was suddenly called home to serve as a lord, even though it was his family who decided to place him in the monastery at a young age. Not only will we be able to get close to this new young lord, who's probably facing great hardship from his ignorance about earthly matters and totally unable to tell his left from his right, but we might even have a chance to help him! Any merchant would go, and those who wouldn't...are definitely not merchants."
After a number of adventures, he had promised Holo he would no longer accept big jobs that would put them in danger, but not only did he believe this did not fall into that category, it was also novel work with promising profits.
The only thing they needed to offer in compensation was to slightly delay their rest, but in return, they would make the acquaintance of a feudal lord, and that was profit enough.
Holo was reluctant, and though she should have understood by now, still she argued.
"You..."
That deep voice was proof of her displeasure. If Lawrence continued in this manner and truly angered Holo, she would most certainly not allow him to have her warm tail under the blanket while he slept that night.
Though it was spring, it was still cold sleeping outside.
"I know, I know. Know that I'll make it up to you."
***
There was no response, so he sighed before continuing.
"Though the place where we're heading is small, it's still the house of a lord. Look forward to the hospitality..."
He spoke only up to that point before tapering off because he suddenly felt a lukewarm breath on the nape of his neck.
Holo could discern people's lies with those wolf ears of hers.
It was child's play for her to gauge the substance of his words.
Before she had a chance to nip the back of his neck, he gave up and turned around.
"I get it. I promise. If we get to the lord's house and they give this traveling merchant the cold shoulder, then we'll go to a nearby town. We'll spend our money there."
Even if it was not a wool and silk bed, they could no doubt secure a room with a roof and a bed stuffed with straw in any town around the area. Then dinner would likely consist of fresh pork or chicken or, at the very least, a hodgepodge of seasonal vegetables and mushrooms. They had almost come far enough south to reach lands where grapes were harvested, so wine would also be available in great quantities.
"I wish to bid farewell to cold porridge and spoiled ale."
Holo glared at him with accusatory eyes and kept her gaze trained on him for a while.
Then, she finally sighed deeply and audibly exhaled through her nose.
"And you absolutely must bathe."
"Huh?"
Surprised, Lawrence unwittingly sniffed his own clothes. He thought for a moment that he was still perfectly fine, but he suddenly reached a conclusion. Perhaps the reason why Holo wished to stop and rest at a town was for this very reason.
"If you wish to use my tail for warmth in the cold evenings, then you must clean yourself a tad more. I shall not tolerate any mites or lice!"
Holo was devoted to caring for her tail. Much like how a mercenary reveled in maintaining a polished blade and steeled muscles, her tail was her pride.
So despite Holo doing all she could to put up with her traveling companion, who seemed as though bugs wafted from him even at that very moment, it was apparent that she was at her limit.

Output:
Lawrence tentatively fought back. He never minded when he was traveling by himself, but since he started traveling with Holo, he had given some effort to keep clean.
Holo, however, would be the judge of that.
"I always smell of sweet, fragrant flowers, but you simply never notice."
Her retort was issued while holding her hand to her nose. She certainly did smell faintly sweet all the time, but even Lawrence knew that trick.
"That's thanks to the oil you use on your tail. It was expensive, after all."
Holo glared hard at him.
"You fool. I have always smelled this way!"
"...If you say so."
There was no point in arguing, so he faced forward and gripped the reins again. Even if it was simply the oil she used, a soft, sweet scent borne by the breeze that tickled his nose, Lawrence did not mind so much.
Did her oil smell like this, though?
As he pondered, Holo sniffed a bit and looked around.
"Mm. Quite suddenly, I smell something sweet. Perhaps someone is baking?"
"No, this..."
He had started speaking when the road in the field took a sharp turn, and when he saw the land ahead, he understood.
"Aha."
Holo sounded surprised as she spoke her next words, and her reaction was wholly appropriate.
"How marvelous!"
Suddenly, as though a line had been drawn in the ground, the greenery changed into a purple carpet spreading out endlessly before them.
"There is, however...too much of a good thing..."
Though it did not bother Lawrence much, Holo, with her keen sense of smell, found it necessary to hold her nose as they traveled along the road that ran through the field of flowers.
There were also quite a number of bees, which must have been drawn to the heady scent.
After cautiously exiting the field of flowers and continuing beyond a creek where a dingy and tattered water mill spun creakily, Lawrence could finally see his destination. According to the information he had received ahead of time, the village they would soon reach was called Hadish.
He could tell immediately it was a small hamlet by the size of the lines that connected house to house. He was unsure whether it was true or not, but Lawrence had once heard that the paths in a village were made just wide enough to carry a coffin after someone has died. In places where no one would stand along the roadside to send off the deceased, the paths were so small that a wagon bed would stick out on either side.
What most drew his attention was the distance between houses.
"Perhaps the villagers here do not get on?"
Before meeting Lawrence, Holo had spent decades—even centuries—hiding in the wheat fields of a town called Pasloe, so she had a rather keen sense for figuring out the state of things in human settlements.
The homes in Hadish were so far apart that it would be impossible to see the face of a person standing in the doorway at the nearest house.
"But the roads are very clean, considering that. The grass is cut, and the dirt is hardened. There are also lots of chickens."
If the villagers did not get along, then there was no way chickens would be left to roam about as it would have led to quarrels regarding stealing or finding stolen livestock.
As he gazed at the village, a sweet scent riding on the breeze, the only word he could think of was peaceful.
"There must be a reason. It's odd that there's such a wide-open field, but they haven't cultivated much of it."
All cities surrounded with walls were overcrowded, and there were many who would carry a plow out to fertile land immediately if they had a chance.
"Perhaps the king here is wicked, and everyone has run off? Perhaps we should flee, too?"
Holo was still saying such things even after they had come this far.
"I don't think that's impossible, but according to the abbot, the person who took up the seat of the new lord is someone truly worthy of faith. I don't think he'd do anything cruel."
"...Hmph."
That being said, when Holo heard he was of good faith, she frowned.


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

Input:
Lawrence tentatively fought back. He never minded when he was traveling by himself, but since he started traveling with Holo, he had given some effort to keep clean.
Holo, however, would be the judge of that.
"I always smell of sweet, fragrant flowers, but you simply never notice."
Her retort was issued while holding her hand to her nose. She certainly did smell faintly sweet all the time, but even Lawrence knew that trick.
"That's thanks to the oil you use on your tail. It was expensive, after all."
Holo glared hard at him.
"You fool. I have always smelled this way!"
"...If you say so."
There was no point in arguing, so he faced forward and gripped the reins again. Even if it was simply the oil she used, a soft, sweet scent borne by the breeze that tickled his nose, Lawrence did not mind so much.
Did her oil smell like this, though?
As he pondered, Holo sniffed a bit and looked around.
"Mm. Quite suddenly, I smell something sweet. Perhaps someone is baking?"
"No, this..."
He had started speaking when the road in the field took a sharp turn, and when he saw the land ahead, he understood.
"Aha."
Holo sounded surprised as she spoke her next words, and her reaction was wholly appropriate.
"How marvelous!"
Suddenly, as though a line had been drawn in the ground, the greenery changed into a purple carpet spreading out endlessly before them.
"There is, however...too much of a good thing..."
Though it did not bother Lawrence much, Holo, with her keen sense of smell, found it necessary to hold her nose as they traveled along the road that ran through the field of flowers.
There were also quite a number of bees, which must have been drawn to the heady scent.
After cautiously exiting the field of flowers and continuing beyond a creek where a dingy and tattered water mill spun creakily, Lawrence could finally see his destination. According to the information he had received ahead of time, the village they would soon reach was called Hadish.
He could tell immediately it was a small hamlet by the size of the lines that connected house to house. He was unsure whether it was true or not, but Lawrence had once heard that the paths in a village were made just wide enough to carry a coffin after someone has died. In places where no one would stand along the roadside to send off the deceased, the paths were so small that a wagon bed would stick out on either side.
What most drew his attention was the distance between houses.
"Perhaps the villagers here do not get on?"
Before meeting Lawrence, Holo had spent decades—even centuries—hiding in the wheat fields of a town called Pasloe, so she had a rather keen sense for figuring out the state of things in human settlements.
The homes in Hadish were so far apart that it would be impossible to see the face of a person standing in the doorway at the nearest house.
"But the roads are very clean, considering that. The grass is cut, and the dirt is hardened. There are also lots of chickens."
If the villagers did not get along, then there was no way chickens would be left to roam about as it would have led to quarrels regarding stealing or finding stolen livestock.
As he gazed at the village, a sweet scent riding on the breeze, the only word he could think of was peaceful.
"There must be a reason. It's odd that there's such a wide-open field, but they haven't cultivated much of it."
All cities surrounded with walls were overcrowded, and there were many who would carry a plow out to fertile land immediately if they had a chance.
"Perhaps the king here is wicked, and everyone has run off? Perhaps we should flee, too?"
Holo was still saying such things even after they had come this far.
"I don't think that's impossible, but according to the abbot, the person who took up the seat of the new lord is someone truly worthy of faith. I don't think he'd do anything cruel."
"...Hmph."
That being said, when Holo heard he was of good faith, she frowned.

Output:
A good monk was one who aimed to eat simple foods and adhered to the commandment of silence.
Of course, it was completely incompatible with Holo's morally lax lifestyle.
That was likely one reason she had been fussy for the past few days.
"If that is where we must go, then look, why not that house? There are onions and dried trout hanging from the eaves. There are chickens and pigs in the garden, and the soil in the vegetable plot is an earthy black."
Holo pointed to a building that gave the impression it would stay the same for a thousand years, topped by a short and stout straw-thatched roof that looked like a dog had rolled in it. Though they would likely receive scratchy straw beds to sleep on, it was certain that the food would be good. And since the locals could gather the ingredients straight from the fields, there was likely lots of drink as well.
"But not every monk who lives at an abbey is so straitlaced. Not to mention the kind of monastery that the houses of fine lords would visit, even the ones in poor, remote villages. I don't think they'd welcome nobles with roasted beans and onions."
And there was significance in staying at the house of a lord. That was because once permission to stay had been given, those guests would be allowed to stay again. That was how trust was built.
Lawrence explained as much, though Holo made a face that looked like she had swallowed a bug.
"And we're dealing with a young lord who has suddenly been cast out into the mortal world and is deeply troubled. If we manage this well, then I'm sure we'll get some help when we open a store."
He was aware that he sounded like he was merely considering loss and profits, but of course, he had no intention of letting this young lord deal with any losses.
If there were even one suspicious merchant hoping to take advantage of a new lord who was ignorant of market prices in the hope of making a quick coin, everyone would be sent away.
"You...! I have had enough!"
Holo finally became fed up and said one last thing before curling up in the wagon bed.
Though Lawrence thought her mood had cheered up considerably, she was still rather irritable from the fatigue of travel.
However, he felt like she had not been this way until they stopped over at the monastery. There was something odd about it—had she wanted to visit the towns in the west that badly?
As he wondered why, a large number of people appeared from the house Holo had pointed out.
At the front stood a short, bald old man, and there was a group of men who seemed to be the villagers. They all wore displeased expressions and were huddled near one another, talking. Among them were those who looked up to the heavens in exaggeration or those who shook their heads strongly.
Then, they all looked inside the house.
"Holo."
Quietly, Lawrence called her name over his shoulder. Though she was balled up in the back of the wagon, her ears would be able to hear what they were saying. Even Holo knew that if there were quarrels happening in the place they were headed, then it would be best to have a grasp of them.
"Hmph."
However, the only response she gave was a huff from her nose. Surprised that Holo was in such a foul mood, Lawrence turned around, but at the same moment, the people waiting outside the house finally noticed they were there.
Feeling their eyes on him, he faced forward again, and they were indeed staring at him.
"Hello."
Lawrence greeted them after stopping the wagon an appropriate distance away.
"I see everyone's gathered together. Talks about the spring festival, perhaps?"
He spoke with a smile, as though signaling he was an idiot who had not grasped a single hint of the tension hanging in the air.
The villagers exchanged glances in hesitation, and the small old man finally looked his way.
"A traveling merchant, I see. Our village's festival is in the summer."
He showed him a cheerful, insincere smile. It seemed this old man was the village head.