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

Input:
Tanya blinked her big, round eyes, then finally gave a carefree smile. "Of course!"
Elsa mused at how Tanya was a surprisingly naughty person as she opened the door Lawrence and Holo passed through not moments earlier and stepped inside the tower.
A spiral staircase led upward, and it was rather obvious that it had been built for greater reasons than for nobility to show off. Though when Elsa thought about how it would have been used in times of war, something about it struck her as strange. How useful would a single tower like this be in war if it sat alone in the middle of such extensive plains?
She found herself thinking about the pontoon bridge near Salonia. Things took on their forms for one reason or another, and the view at the top of a hill was enough to make anyone feel like they were a sovereign gazing out over their land.
Or perhaps there was something for which they had been keeping watch that required an even higher vantage point?
Or perhaps that was the snake?
Various thoughts crossed Elsa's mind as she climbed the stairs after Tanya.
With all those possibilities in her mind, she saw how the scenery out of the little windows in the wall grew more and more distant. She glanced around, hoping to find a painting that might detail the history somewhere; as they passed the third-floor window that looked down over the garden, they at last began to see the rooves of the buildings.
That was when she spotted the assistant priest walking through the courtyard with others. They seemed so small, like they belonged in a distant world.
The tower stairs continued upward.
Tanya's steps grew heavy as she ran out of breath, so Elsa encouraged her as they went up.
And just as she started to get dizzy, they exited out onto a place higher than the stone wall.
Another full round up the spiral staircase would take them to the top of the tower.
Elsa stopped not because Tanya was exhausted, or because they would run into Lawrence and Holo at the top of the tower.
It was because her eyes were fixed on the sight that greeted her beyond the window in the wall.
"No... Could this be...?"
She could not help but voice her thoughts; she gulped between ragged breaths and stared hard at what she saw.
As a servant of God, she told people of the divine miracles detailed in the scripture to cultivate their faith. On the other hand, she had taken in her father's footsteps to collect her own stories about the pagan gods. And then, the miraculous pair of the traveling merchant and the girl came to her town.
In her eyes, they lived in a fantastic world, and they showed her a side of the world she had not thought of before. And once again, they were doing the same thing.
Here they were showing her inviolable proof of a myth out of time.
"What? What?! Are those snake tracks?!"
Tanya came up right beside Elsa to peek through the hole in the wall and raised her own voice in shock.
There was no mistaking the sight—anyone would look at it and think the same thing.
Before them, in the golden fields of wheat as the grains bowed in the wind, illuminated in the autumn afternoon sun, was a distinct trail that could have only been left by a giant serpent.
"B-but, this..."
Elsa felt terribly confused by what she saw before her.
The easiest thing to confirm was with Tanya.
"Miss Tanya. Didn't you say there was no snake?"
Tanya gasped at the question. "O-oh, yes, you're right. But...huh? Then why...?"
Elsa doubted that Holo with her wolf's nose would have missed the presence of a snake. Or perhaps the serpent that left the tracks on the field was a being even greater than the likes of Holo or Tanya.
Something that could not be seen or sensed, but left trails like this on the wheat fields only.
Impossible, Elsa thought. And just as she did, a similar sentiment came from above.
"H-how could I have missed this?! 'Tis impossible!"

Output:
"This snake...left a trail in the wheat..."
Elsa and Tanya came to a stop just as they were about to reach the top.
"Weird, isn't it? It's so hard to see when you're on the ground, but it's so obvious when you're up high."
They could hear the hint of pride in Lawrence's voice. Elsa could easily imagine Holo squaring her shoulders and puffing out her tail.
"Hrrgh... I do not understand, then. I sensed no snake at all. And most importantly—!" Holo's voice was pained, as though she were shaking off a nightmare. "The wheat would be bent, flattened entirely if there were a big snake slithering about atop it. Do you mean to tell me this snake was fluffy like mist, one that would be nice to pet?!"
Though Holo and her kind were unbelievable supernatural beings to regular humans, she was still confused and agitated. But her response came from a former merchant whose voice was calm, almost suppressing a laugh.
"It's the other way around."
"What?!"
"It wasn't slithering on top of the wheat. It was going under. And it's probably the same, in a way, even now."
***
All Elsa could hear were Holo's fevered breaths. Words were failing her.
Holo likely stood perfectly still, her eyes wide, fangs bared, ready to leap forward at any moment.
But Elsa was in the same state of mind. She had completely forgotten about feeling like a young girl trying to eavesdrop on a love confession, and instead strained her ears to hear Lawrence's explanation.
"That isn't the great serpent, though."
"What?!"
"Wh-whoa, hey! Don't push me! I'll fall!"
Elsa could hear Lawrence panic as Holo rushed Lawrence, finally out of patience.
"It is not the serpent...? Dear... Dear, are you bli—oh. Hmm?"
It finally dawned on Holo as she held Lawrence in her grip.
Elsa could picture it so easily, as though she were there with them. Lawrence had been holding that old map in his hands.
She was astonished.
"Exactly. It's what's left of a river." His voice was gentle, as though he was carefully guiding her through his thought process. "There was an old topographical map of the area along with some other old maps. And this is an exact match with what we see here."
Tanya fidgeted, wanting to look out the window again, so Elsa moved over to give her room; she watched as Tanya scooted past her down the stairs, and she concentrated on the voices above her at the same time.
"This old river flows across the Salonia plain from the eastern mountain range to the southwest. And see, if you follow the snake tracks the entire way, you'd get to the mountains in the east, right? Then, you'll start getting very close to the river that we crossed if you go farther upstream."
Elsa could picture Holo turning to look where Lawrence was pointing, then turning back to look at him in disappointment.
There came a loud rustling of clothes and irritable footsteps.
"According to this map, there used to be two rivers cutting across the plain. The remains in the field are of the ones that dried up."
"B-but..."
Holo fell silent, and Elsa empathized with her bewilderment.
Holo had stood before that wheat field not long ago, after all.
Would she not have noticed if the flow of the old river left a physical mark on the land, an indent in the very ground? And most importantly, anyone who knew anything about minding wheat fields would question if it would remain unchanged, even after months and years of tilling.
And yet it was strange that an old river had left such a clear mark on the ground, like a carpet for the wheat. It was as though only the wheat itself knew how the land changed... When that thought crossed Elsa's mind, she almost exclaimed, but stopped herself.
Then wisewolf Holo arrived at the same answer.
"Drainage!"
"Very perceptive. I asked the villagers, and they said that the dirt was deepest only where the river used to be, which meant the plants there grew in a slightly different manner."


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

Input:
"This snake...left a trail in the wheat..."
Elsa and Tanya came to a stop just as they were about to reach the top.
"Weird, isn't it? It's so hard to see when you're on the ground, but it's so obvious when you're up high."
They could hear the hint of pride in Lawrence's voice. Elsa could easily imagine Holo squaring her shoulders and puffing out her tail.
"Hrrgh... I do not understand, then. I sensed no snake at all. And most importantly—!" Holo's voice was pained, as though she were shaking off a nightmare. "The wheat would be bent, flattened entirely if there were a big snake slithering about atop it. Do you mean to tell me this snake was fluffy like mist, one that would be nice to pet?!"
Though Holo and her kind were unbelievable supernatural beings to regular humans, she was still confused and agitated. But her response came from a former merchant whose voice was calm, almost suppressing a laugh.
"It's the other way around."
"What?!"
"It wasn't slithering on top of the wheat. It was going under. And it's probably the same, in a way, even now."
***
All Elsa could hear were Holo's fevered breaths. Words were failing her.
Holo likely stood perfectly still, her eyes wide, fangs bared, ready to leap forward at any moment.
But Elsa was in the same state of mind. She had completely forgotten about feeling like a young girl trying to eavesdrop on a love confession, and instead strained her ears to hear Lawrence's explanation.
"That isn't the great serpent, though."
"What?!"
"Wh-whoa, hey! Don't push me! I'll fall!"
Elsa could hear Lawrence panic as Holo rushed Lawrence, finally out of patience.
"It is not the serpent...? Dear... Dear, are you bli—oh. Hmm?"
It finally dawned on Holo as she held Lawrence in her grip.
Elsa could picture it so easily, as though she were there with them. Lawrence had been holding that old map in his hands.
She was astonished.
"Exactly. It's what's left of a river." His voice was gentle, as though he was carefully guiding her through his thought process. "There was an old topographical map of the area along with some other old maps. And this is an exact match with what we see here."
Tanya fidgeted, wanting to look out the window again, so Elsa moved over to give her room; she watched as Tanya scooted past her down the stairs, and she concentrated on the voices above her at the same time.
"This old river flows across the Salonia plain from the eastern mountain range to the southwest. And see, if you follow the snake tracks the entire way, you'd get to the mountains in the east, right? Then, you'll start getting very close to the river that we crossed if you go farther upstream."
Elsa could picture Holo turning to look where Lawrence was pointing, then turning back to look at him in disappointment.
There came a loud rustling of clothes and irritable footsteps.
"According to this map, there used to be two rivers cutting across the plain. The remains in the field are of the ones that dried up."
"B-but..."
Holo fell silent, and Elsa empathized with her bewilderment.
Holo had stood before that wheat field not long ago, after all.
Would she not have noticed if the flow of the old river left a physical mark on the land, an indent in the very ground? And most importantly, anyone who knew anything about minding wheat fields would question if it would remain unchanged, even after months and years of tilling.
And yet it was strange that an old river had left such a clear mark on the ground, like a carpet for the wheat. It was as though only the wheat itself knew how the land changed... When that thought crossed Elsa's mind, she almost exclaimed, but stopped herself.
Then wisewolf Holo arrived at the same answer.
"Drainage!"
"Very perceptive. I asked the villagers, and they said that the dirt was deepest only where the river used to be, which meant the plants there grew in a slightly different manner."

Output:
"It isn't enough to change the wheat harvest for better or worse, but the heights and stalks were slightly, but surely different. And so the only time you can see this is when the wheat is ripe and from high spots. We were lucky," Lawrence, very likely looking out over the fields, said, his tone relaxed.
"In which case...what of the snake?"
Elsa understood Holo's confusion, too. Because if the great serpent of myth was indeed the remains of this old river, then she would have to readjust her thought process in order to comprehend what this all meant.
What of the tale of the Hero Voragine, then? It was unlikely that his only achievement had been to notice the slight color difference in the wheat fields, hurriedly construct a tower, then claim a serpent once roamed there. Would such a thing even earn him tariff-levying privileges, or any titles at all?
Lawrence, of course, could explain it all, which was why he had brought Holo here with that big smile of his.
"The serpent that hampered trade did actually exist."
***
Lawrence had just told her that the mark on the field was not from the snake. Elsa could clearly sense Holo's bewilderment through her silence. Lawrence enjoyed leading her by the nose, especially since she typically had the upper hand between them, but he knew clear well what would happen if he got carried away.
He spoke to soothe her, but his voice still had a chuckle in it.
"It's pretty complicated."
"...Hmph."
Elsa could practically see Lawrence grimacing as Holo pouted.
"First, the Hero Voragine didn't actually kill a serpent. But he did take down something a lot like it."
It was wholly a riddle, and Holo the Wisewolf was cross enough to have absolutely no intention of waiting for an answer. Elsa could hear a gentle smile in Lawrence's voice, like he thought it was funny, as he continued talking.
"He killed the serpent not with a sword, but with a spade. He dried up the river."
Elsa took a step down the stairs, listening to Lawrence as she joined Tanya in looking out the window over the fields.
"But it'd be strange if anyone could become a noble by drying up a river, wouldn't it?"
Holo's tone in response was reluctant; perhaps she felt guilty for ignoring him any further. "Those who grew the wheat would only come to loathe him."
"Exactly. And you can't just make the snake a metaphor for the river. You remember how we crossed the pontoon bridge, right?"
"Aye, I do. What of it?"
"You asked why they didn't just build a big bridge over the river, remember?"
Elsa was a few moments away from answering the riddle herself, but the wisewolf let her wisdom be known.
"Because of all the lumber that comes down from the mounta—Oh!"
"Exactly. They float all the logs down the river. Imagine what it'd look like if you stood next to the river and watched them go by."
It would look like a massive snake.
"B-but, ah..."
"That's only half the story, though."
Even Elsa could picture Lawrence's exaggerated movements as he became more absorbed in the story.
"The river used to have two branches, remember? One of them never went to Salonia; it came this way. There are no towns out on these plains, and it's far out of sight."
Though Holo was a spirit from a bygone era, she had been traveling with this former merchant for a while now, and she had learned how to view the world the way he did.
"Smuggling."
As kind as Lawrence seemed, he was still a merchant at heart. Their journey together had not been entirely wholesome, and Holo had been exposed to much of the darkness of the mercantile world.


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

Input:
"It isn't enough to change the wheat harvest for better or worse, but the heights and stalks were slightly, but surely different. And so the only time you can see this is when the wheat is ripe and from high spots. We were lucky," Lawrence, very likely looking out over the fields, said, his tone relaxed.
"In which case...what of the snake?"
Elsa understood Holo's confusion, too. Because if the great serpent of myth was indeed the remains of this old river, then she would have to readjust her thought process in order to comprehend what this all meant.
What of the tale of the Hero Voragine, then? It was unlikely that his only achievement had been to notice the slight color difference in the wheat fields, hurriedly construct a tower, then claim a serpent once roamed there. Would such a thing even earn him tariff-levying privileges, or any titles at all?
Lawrence, of course, could explain it all, which was why he had brought Holo here with that big smile of his.
"The serpent that hampered trade did actually exist."
***
Lawrence had just told her that the mark on the field was not from the snake. Elsa could clearly sense Holo's bewilderment through her silence. Lawrence enjoyed leading her by the nose, especially since she typically had the upper hand between them, but he knew clear well what would happen if he got carried away.
He spoke to soothe her, but his voice still had a chuckle in it.
"It's pretty complicated."
"...Hmph."
Elsa could practically see Lawrence grimacing as Holo pouted.
"First, the Hero Voragine didn't actually kill a serpent. But he did take down something a lot like it."
It was wholly a riddle, and Holo the Wisewolf was cross enough to have absolutely no intention of waiting for an answer. Elsa could hear a gentle smile in Lawrence's voice, like he thought it was funny, as he continued talking.
"He killed the serpent not with a sword, but with a spade. He dried up the river."
Elsa took a step down the stairs, listening to Lawrence as she joined Tanya in looking out the window over the fields.
"But it'd be strange if anyone could become a noble by drying up a river, wouldn't it?"
Holo's tone in response was reluctant; perhaps she felt guilty for ignoring him any further. "Those who grew the wheat would only come to loathe him."
"Exactly. And you can't just make the snake a metaphor for the river. You remember how we crossed the pontoon bridge, right?"
"Aye, I do. What of it?"
"You asked why they didn't just build a big bridge over the river, remember?"
Elsa was a few moments away from answering the riddle herself, but the wisewolf let her wisdom be known.
"Because of all the lumber that comes down from the mounta—Oh!"
"Exactly. They float all the logs down the river. Imagine what it'd look like if you stood next to the river and watched them go by."
It would look like a massive snake.
"B-but, ah..."
"That's only half the story, though."
Even Elsa could picture Lawrence's exaggerated movements as he became more absorbed in the story.
"The river used to have two branches, remember? One of them never went to Salonia; it came this way. There are no towns out on these plains, and it's far out of sight."
Though Holo was a spirit from a bygone era, she had been traveling with this former merchant for a while now, and she had learned how to view the world the way he did.
"Smuggling."
As kind as Lawrence seemed, he was still a merchant at heart. Their journey together had not been entirely wholesome, and Holo had been exposed to much of the darkness of the mercantile world.

Output:
The moonlight could only provide so much light.
Using torches at the front of this dark procession could only make it look like one thing.
"It would look like...snake eyes in the dark."
"And it was the Hero Voragine who vanquished the serpent."
All by drying up the river.
"I had a rough idea of what happened when I saw the map in the village. I also thought it was very odd that the lumber merchants and the Church couldn't settle this ongoing dispute of theirs. I think everyone knows about this."
A keen-eyed passerby noticing a flaw in a long-held belief, especially one that had avoided scrutiny by locals for generations, was something that happened often in adventure tales, but not so much so in real life. The truth was so obvious that they could not put it into simple words.
The Church, at the time, had been busy fighting the pagans, so it had been much more convenient to dress it up as the story of a great serpent being killed; the lumber merchants were beholden to the immoral acts with which their predecessors sullied their hands.
Neither of them could say anything decisive, however, and remained in silent deadlocked stares when a traveler with a lot of sway but ignorance in local affairs came to town.
And so, they had called on Lawrence, hoping he would give them the advantage without him ever noticing the truth.
"But I'm not going to let them pull my strings like that."
Elsa could picture the smug look on Lawrence's face, and she could just as easily see the mixture of exasperation, vexation, and even joy on Holo's.
She could just scarcely hear Holo's tail, fluffed in displeasure, swishing back and forth.
"And I think this out-of-place tower was meant to serve as a lookout for smugglers who used the old river. Remember how Miss Tanya said that she heard merchants complaining about the snake that made it impossible to sell any metal from the mines? All the smuggling had likely caused control to become so strict that it affected legal trade."
Elsa understood—and it was because the Hero Voragine resolved this problem that he was awarded with tariff rights and a title of nobility out of it.
"That's more or less the myth of the great serpent of the Salonia plain."
When Elsa would stay the night at an inn while she was on the road, she had often encountered travelers sitting around the hearth in the great hall, ale in hand, sharing interesting stories of things they had encountered on their travels.
Lawrence had surely done the same almost every night when he was traveling with Holo.
When his familiar storytelling cadence came to an end, Holo had calmed significantly after being led so ruthlessly by the nose.
"You are honestly—"
"—Amazing, I know."
He had told the story in an amusing yet confident manner.
And, of course, it was not as though Holo genuinely thought Lawrence to be a foolish sheep.
It was because she could occasionally corner him in an argument, as he did to her, that Holo the wolf could not tear herself away from Lawrence.
"I suppose so, yes. Then what are you going to do?"
Elsa thought about how indifferent Holo sounded for only a brief moment.
She could tell from the footsteps above that Holo had drawn closer to Lawrence, perhaps holding his hand.
"Do you intend to obtain this field for yourself and then present it to me? The truth of this situation must be quite delicate for the Church."
She sounded like a wolf playfully nuzzling and nipping at her prey.
"If all know the truth, but none choose to divulge, it becomes impossible to pick a side."
She was right. If Lawrence were to side with the Church and obtain tariff and lordship rights and maintain high tariffs on the lumber merchants, then they would have to acknowledge that they were being punished for the wrongdoings of the past and may even be forced to admit the truth of the great serpent, that the legend fabricated by the church was exactly that—fabricated.


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

Input:
The moonlight could only provide so much light.
Using torches at the front of this dark procession could only make it look like one thing.
"It would look like...snake eyes in the dark."
"And it was the Hero Voragine who vanquished the serpent."
All by drying up the river.
"I had a rough idea of what happened when I saw the map in the village. I also thought it was very odd that the lumber merchants and the Church couldn't settle this ongoing dispute of theirs. I think everyone knows about this."
A keen-eyed passerby noticing a flaw in a long-held belief, especially one that had avoided scrutiny by locals for generations, was something that happened often in adventure tales, but not so much so in real life. The truth was so obvious that they could not put it into simple words.
The Church, at the time, had been busy fighting the pagans, so it had been much more convenient to dress it up as the story of a great serpent being killed; the lumber merchants were beholden to the immoral acts with which their predecessors sullied their hands.
Neither of them could say anything decisive, however, and remained in silent deadlocked stares when a traveler with a lot of sway but ignorance in local affairs came to town.
And so, they had called on Lawrence, hoping he would give them the advantage without him ever noticing the truth.
"But I'm not going to let them pull my strings like that."
Elsa could picture the smug look on Lawrence's face, and she could just as easily see the mixture of exasperation, vexation, and even joy on Holo's.
She could just scarcely hear Holo's tail, fluffed in displeasure, swishing back and forth.
"And I think this out-of-place tower was meant to serve as a lookout for smugglers who used the old river. Remember how Miss Tanya said that she heard merchants complaining about the snake that made it impossible to sell any metal from the mines? All the smuggling had likely caused control to become so strict that it affected legal trade."
Elsa understood—and it was because the Hero Voragine resolved this problem that he was awarded with tariff rights and a title of nobility out of it.
"That's more or less the myth of the great serpent of the Salonia plain."
When Elsa would stay the night at an inn while she was on the road, she had often encountered travelers sitting around the hearth in the great hall, ale in hand, sharing interesting stories of things they had encountered on their travels.
Lawrence had surely done the same almost every night when he was traveling with Holo.
When his familiar storytelling cadence came to an end, Holo had calmed significantly after being led so ruthlessly by the nose.
"You are honestly—"
"—Amazing, I know."
He had told the story in an amusing yet confident manner.
And, of course, it was not as though Holo genuinely thought Lawrence to be a foolish sheep.
It was because she could occasionally corner him in an argument, as he did to her, that Holo the wolf could not tear herself away from Lawrence.
"I suppose so, yes. Then what are you going to do?"
Elsa thought about how indifferent Holo sounded for only a brief moment.
She could tell from the footsteps above that Holo had drawn closer to Lawrence, perhaps holding his hand.
"Do you intend to obtain this field for yourself and then present it to me? The truth of this situation must be quite delicate for the Church."
She sounded like a wolf playfully nuzzling and nipping at her prey.
"If all know the truth, but none choose to divulge, it becomes impossible to pick a side."
She was right. If Lawrence were to side with the Church and obtain tariff and lordship rights and maintain high tariffs on the lumber merchants, then they would have to acknowledge that they were being punished for the wrongdoings of the past and may even be forced to admit the truth of the great serpent, that the legend fabricated by the church was exactly that—fabricated.

Output:
"...Hrm?"
"I'll tell the lumber merchants that because of the wrongdoing their predecessors caused, they have no hope of ever having tariffs significantly lowered. But I'll tell the church that this myth they've been spreading is an outright lie, and that the people who were engaging in all the smuggling went to their graves years ago, and then propose they find a compromise with the merchants."
"...Mm."
"All I need from the lumber merchants is a little thank-you. And we can drink all we want with that money."
Holo's tail was probably already swishing when she heard of such an obvious reward.
"But...what of the field? Will you be giving up on it?"
Despite how hesitant she had been when Lawrence first brought it up, she seemed sad now that it was about to vanish from her grasp. Lawrence did not reply to her question right away.
Though he seemed foolish at a glance, the man was prudent; it was as though he was gently gifting her a treasure.
"Instead of thanks from the Church, I'm going to ask they send a set amount of wheat to Nyohhira each year."
"...You what?"
"Then, every year, when we bake our bread using that wheat, we'll remember what happened today."
Ale had no value once consumed, and coins were little more than useless baubles.
But receiving wheat every year, harvested from land rich with memories, was a different story.
Holo spent her days writing every detail of her activities down. She had been frightened when she saw her partner's face illuminated by the light of an inn that was not her bathhouse, her home. Each new line served as a reminder that time flowed differently for the two of them. Even the mightiest of rivers would eventually run dry.
One day, her words might also dry up.
But wheat, with its myriad flavors and aromas, could create fresh memories.
"If the wheat's not good, then just have Myuri come check up on things. Or you can come yourself. Might not be a bad way to spend your time, you know, coming down here a—"
Elsa decided not to think about why Lawrence did not finish his sentence.
Tanya strained her ears curiously and she even began to crane her neck in an attempt to see them, but even the straitlaced Elsa knew that lingering here any longer would be tactless of them. She placed her hand on Tanya's shoulder and pointed down the stairs with a smile.
Elsa's heart was full as they made their way down the stairs.
From Tereo, she had walked to church after church, hoping to be of some use to the clergy as it floundered in the torrent of the ages. What she had seen over and over again were the devout acting in ways unbefitting servants of God, though there may have not been any malice behind their actions.
Anything truly genuine was a rare find in this world. People often painted things in brighter hues; they often dressed them up to seem greater than they were.
But at times, she did come across things like this.
Once they exited the narrow tower staircase and came to the open garden, Tanya heaved a deep sigh.
Elsa turned her gaze up to the top of the tower and could not help the smile tugging at her lips.
The smile was not just because of the deep affection the couple had for each other, but because of the way she herself felt.
"It's been quite a while since I've felt homesick."
Her home was full of noise, with things constantly happening, and her memories consisted almost entirely of her yelling.
But that was where she truly belonged.
Perhaps it was nowhere near as saccharine as Lawrence and Holo's relationship, but her family was still precious to her—blankets had to be readjusted after being kicked off in the night.
***
But that was when she noticed how still Tanya stood next to her. Though she would not point it out herself, Elsa saw envy, and a pronounced sadness, in Tanya's expression.


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

Input:
"...Hrm?"
"I'll tell the lumber merchants that because of the wrongdoing their predecessors caused, they have no hope of ever having tariffs significantly lowered. But I'll tell the church that this myth they've been spreading is an outright lie, and that the people who were engaging in all the smuggling went to their graves years ago, and then propose they find a compromise with the merchants."
"...Mm."
"All I need from the lumber merchants is a little thank-you. And we can drink all we want with that money."
Holo's tail was probably already swishing when she heard of such an obvious reward.
"But...what of the field? Will you be giving up on it?"
Despite how hesitant she had been when Lawrence first brought it up, she seemed sad now that it was about to vanish from her grasp. Lawrence did not reply to her question right away.
Though he seemed foolish at a glance, the man was prudent; it was as though he was gently gifting her a treasure.
"Instead of thanks from the Church, I'm going to ask they send a set amount of wheat to Nyohhira each year."
"...You what?"
"Then, every year, when we bake our bread using that wheat, we'll remember what happened today."
Ale had no value once consumed, and coins were little more than useless baubles.
But receiving wheat every year, harvested from land rich with memories, was a different story.
Holo spent her days writing every detail of her activities down. She had been frightened when she saw her partner's face illuminated by the light of an inn that was not her bathhouse, her home. Each new line served as a reminder that time flowed differently for the two of them. Even the mightiest of rivers would eventually run dry.
One day, her words might also dry up.
But wheat, with its myriad flavors and aromas, could create fresh memories.
"If the wheat's not good, then just have Myuri come check up on things. Or you can come yourself. Might not be a bad way to spend your time, you know, coming down here a—"
Elsa decided not to think about why Lawrence did not finish his sentence.
Tanya strained her ears curiously and she even began to crane her neck in an attempt to see them, but even the straitlaced Elsa knew that lingering here any longer would be tactless of them. She placed her hand on Tanya's shoulder and pointed down the stairs with a smile.
Elsa's heart was full as they made their way down the stairs.
From Tereo, she had walked to church after church, hoping to be of some use to the clergy as it floundered in the torrent of the ages. What she had seen over and over again were the devout acting in ways unbefitting servants of God, though there may have not been any malice behind their actions.
Anything truly genuine was a rare find in this world. People often painted things in brighter hues; they often dressed them up to seem greater than they were.
But at times, she did come across things like this.
Once they exited the narrow tower staircase and came to the open garden, Tanya heaved a deep sigh.
Elsa turned her gaze up to the top of the tower and could not help the smile tugging at her lips.
The smile was not just because of the deep affection the couple had for each other, but because of the way she herself felt.
"It's been quite a while since I've felt homesick."
Her home was full of noise, with things constantly happening, and her memories consisted almost entirely of her yelling.
But that was where she truly belonged.
Perhaps it was nowhere near as saccharine as Lawrence and Holo's relationship, but her family was still precious to her—blankets had to be readjusted after being kicked off in the night.
***
But that was when she noticed how still Tanya stood next to her. Though she would not point it out herself, Elsa saw envy, and a pronounced sadness, in Tanya's expression.

Output:
When she finally realized Elsa was staring at her, a guilty look crossed her face. So, without a word, Elsa pulled Tanya in for a hug, and they remained there for a long while before Elsa finally spoke up.
"My home is a bit far from here, but would you like to come with me?"
Tanya blinked, her lips mouthing words that never came.
The corner of Elsa's mouth turned upward in a teasing smile, and she pointed to the top of the tower.
"I believe you have the right to follow that happy-go-lucky couple, too, if you wanted to."
Tanya followed suit and also looked up, and by the time she looked back at Elsa, a warm look had crossed her face.
"Yes! I would love to go with you!"
There was no reason for Tanya to be left by herself on her mountain.
Elsa nodded, smiling, and added after a moment of hesitation, "Perhaps you may meet someone nice along the way."
Tanya's eyes widened and her face went red; she brought both her hands up to her cheeks. "But, the master..."
She was talking about the alchemist, the one who was likely dead by now. She might have had an inkling of what had become of him, but it was best not to dwell on it.
"But the master is too good for me, so I could never... So then, umm..."
She was clearly enjoying this.
Elsa smiled, gave a short laugh and said, "I, too, am still a child for enjoying talk of romance."
It was what it was.
Tanya beamed.
"There's so much I want to talk about!"
"Of course."
Elsa wondered if it was worth extending the conversation invite to the wolf.
She was likely the happiest girl in this world, and would have many unbelievable stories to share.
"We're going back to town!" Elsa called up to the top of the tower, planting her hands on her hips.
She would go home, too.
And when she pictured herself turning down any further work from that greedy bishop, she felt quite refreshed.
***
Back when Lawrence had yet to sprout a single hair on his chin, a traveling merchant came to his village. He became close with the man, and they left the village together.
His master had been an eccentric person, and though he had not taught Lawrence every trick of the trade, nor had he been a particularly kind benefactor, the treatment Lawrence received had not been as horrible as what the errand boys in large companies endured.
When he thought back on it, he likened the relationship to a stray cat taking in a puppy and raising it entirely on a whim. And the reason his mentor had been so strange was because his outlook on life was unique, formed after years of living on the road.
As he grew older than his mentor was at the time, Lawrence had now found himself gazing out over the autumn festival in Salonia, a town he had so happened to stop by in his first journey in a long while. It was strange how those memories suddenly came back to him.
From his window at the inn, he watched over the plaza; he watched as the people built a large stage, as the important folk from both the city and the church held some sort of celebration, and how the people reveled in one last party before winter came.
Salonia had no stand-out religious events, so the highlight of the autumn festival was the drinking contest, where people competed to see who could drink the largest amount of the distilled spirit made from the local wheat. He could hear them call out different names, and the most muscular dock boys from the river port and the most confident young clergy from the church came to the stage. It was, all in all, a very relaxed atmosphere.
As Lawrence looked down at the plaza, he found himself smiling because he spotted among them one small girl.
Her hair, colored in a way that would make her impossible to find if she were to slip in among the wheat fields, was braided today, which was unusual. Her petite stature and slender frame made her seem like a highborn lady, but the way she carried herself made her seem more imposing than anything else.
Sitting by the window, he smiled and thought: There's the wolf.


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

Input:
When she finally realized Elsa was staring at her, a guilty look crossed her face. So, without a word, Elsa pulled Tanya in for a hug, and they remained there for a long while before Elsa finally spoke up.
"My home is a bit far from here, but would you like to come with me?"
Tanya blinked, her lips mouthing words that never came.
The corner of Elsa's mouth turned upward in a teasing smile, and she pointed to the top of the tower.
"I believe you have the right to follow that happy-go-lucky couple, too, if you wanted to."
Tanya followed suit and also looked up, and by the time she looked back at Elsa, a warm look had crossed her face.
"Yes! I would love to go with you!"
There was no reason for Tanya to be left by herself on her mountain.
Elsa nodded, smiling, and added after a moment of hesitation, "Perhaps you may meet someone nice along the way."
Tanya's eyes widened and her face went red; she brought both her hands up to her cheeks. "But, the master..."
She was talking about the alchemist, the one who was likely dead by now. She might have had an inkling of what had become of him, but it was best not to dwell on it.
"But the master is too good for me, so I could never... So then, umm..."
She was clearly enjoying this.
Elsa smiled, gave a short laugh and said, "I, too, am still a child for enjoying talk of romance."
It was what it was.
Tanya beamed.
"There's so much I want to talk about!"
"Of course."
Elsa wondered if it was worth extending the conversation invite to the wolf.
She was likely the happiest girl in this world, and would have many unbelievable stories to share.
"We're going back to town!" Elsa called up to the top of the tower, planting her hands on her hips.
She would go home, too.
And when she pictured herself turning down any further work from that greedy bishop, she felt quite refreshed.
***
Back when Lawrence had yet to sprout a single hair on his chin, a traveling merchant came to his village. He became close with the man, and they left the village together.
His master had been an eccentric person, and though he had not taught Lawrence every trick of the trade, nor had he been a particularly kind benefactor, the treatment Lawrence received had not been as horrible as what the errand boys in large companies endured.
When he thought back on it, he likened the relationship to a stray cat taking in a puppy and raising it entirely on a whim. And the reason his mentor had been so strange was because his outlook on life was unique, formed after years of living on the road.
As he grew older than his mentor was at the time, Lawrence had now found himself gazing out over the autumn festival in Salonia, a town he had so happened to stop by in his first journey in a long while. It was strange how those memories suddenly came back to him.
From his window at the inn, he watched over the plaza; he watched as the people built a large stage, as the important folk from both the city and the church held some sort of celebration, and how the people reveled in one last party before winter came.
Salonia had no stand-out religious events, so the highlight of the autumn festival was the drinking contest, where people competed to see who could drink the largest amount of the distilled spirit made from the local wheat. He could hear them call out different names, and the most muscular dock boys from the river port and the most confident young clergy from the church came to the stage. It was, all in all, a very relaxed atmosphere.
As Lawrence looked down at the plaza, he found himself smiling because he spotted among them one small girl.
Her hair, colored in a way that would make her impossible to find if she were to slip in among the wheat fields, was braided today, which was unusual. Her petite stature and slender frame made her seem like a highborn lady, but the way she carried herself made her seem more imposing than anything else.
Sitting by the window, he smiled and thought: There's the wolf.

Output:
The reason his mind went to his mentor, someone he had not thought about for a very long time, was because the thoughts had happened to spill forth after he opened his mental drawer of travel memories. Or perhaps because he had been rifling through that very drawer for a clue.
As he made his plans for their journey, there was something he needed to think about.
Along one's travels, a person would likely experience more than joyous occasions. That was still the case when they were allowed to spend their time freely in such a lively city, too, as odd as it sounded. Perhaps the more enjoyable something was, the more pain it could potentially produce.
That was because a life on the road meant trading certainty and routine for flexibility—and stability for freedom.
"Once the festival is over, I believe I will be returning home."
It was yesterday that the priestess Elsa, the one who had spent quite a lot of time with them as of late, brought up the topic. It happened after they convinced the church and the lumber merchants to come to a compromise over the Salonia tariffs and were on their way back to their lodgings.
Holo had no interest at all in the tariff meetings, so she had gone ahead to the taverns at the town square, leaving Lawrence and Elsa to walk back together. Lawrence understood that she had been waiting for a moment like that to bring up their parting, but there was one thing he still didn't understand.
"Why not tell Holo first?"
Unbeknownst to him, Holo had come to speak with Elsa while he was occupied with the tariffs. Even when he watched Elsa scold Holo, and how Holo would ignore her, he noticed a closeness between them that he had not seen before.
And so he wondered why the conscientious Elsa did not tell Holo about this beforehand.
It was that thought that brought Lawrence to ask the question, but after giving him a faint smile, she directed her gaze forward again.
"I think we've grown too close."
Elsa was a servant of God who followed a strict set of rules to the letter.
Though that was Lawrence's impression of her, in that moment, he got a glimpse of her true self.
"I am not used to traveling. I was shaken by a sudden onset of homesickness, that's all."
Elsa originally lived a quiet life in a town called Tereo, watching over a church her father left for her. But as the world started turning a harsh gaze on the Church, she had been summoned to help with other churches here and there with managing their assets and privileges, which is how she came to a land as far north as this.
In her hometown, she apparently had three children with a man named Evan, who, in Lawrence's memory, was still a good-natured milling boy.
"Miss Holo is so sharp. I doubt I can hide my urgency to return home. But..." Elsa gave a long sigh, one that almost made her look smaller. "...I would seem cold and distant if I did not, wouldn't I?"
It was a common sight when traveling.
One could meet another person who would soon become a delightful drinking buddy; someone they could open up to and feel a deep sense of camaraderie with. But the person might suddenly leave one day, citing family reasons. To them, we are nothing more than another guest in a long stream of guests, and they have a firm routine to which they must return.
They would go back to the warm lights of their hearths, and homes filled with laughter. But those who spent their lives on the road would have to return to their inns alone. And when dawn broke again, they would move on to the next town.
Along her brief travels, Elsa must have tasted that particular flavor of loneliness.
Despite how tightly tied back her hair was, and how it seemed her astute, honey-tinted eyes saw nothing but logic and reason, Lawrence knew that she was much warmer and kinder than the average person.
The reason she found it difficult to bring up leaving was because she did not want to hurt the lone wolf.
"Should I tell her, then? I was just thinking that it was time for us to move on to the next town."


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

Input:
The reason his mind went to his mentor, someone he had not thought about for a very long time, was because the thoughts had happened to spill forth after he opened his mental drawer of travel memories. Or perhaps because he had been rifling through that very drawer for a clue.
As he made his plans for their journey, there was something he needed to think about.
Along one's travels, a person would likely experience more than joyous occasions. That was still the case when they were allowed to spend their time freely in such a lively city, too, as odd as it sounded. Perhaps the more enjoyable something was, the more pain it could potentially produce.
That was because a life on the road meant trading certainty and routine for flexibility—and stability for freedom.
"Once the festival is over, I believe I will be returning home."
It was yesterday that the priestess Elsa, the one who had spent quite a lot of time with them as of late, brought up the topic. It happened after they convinced the church and the lumber merchants to come to a compromise over the Salonia tariffs and were on their way back to their lodgings.
Holo had no interest at all in the tariff meetings, so she had gone ahead to the taverns at the town square, leaving Lawrence and Elsa to walk back together. Lawrence understood that she had been waiting for a moment like that to bring up their parting, but there was one thing he still didn't understand.
"Why not tell Holo first?"
Unbeknownst to him, Holo had come to speak with Elsa while he was occupied with the tariffs. Even when he watched Elsa scold Holo, and how Holo would ignore her, he noticed a closeness between them that he had not seen before.
And so he wondered why the conscientious Elsa did not tell Holo about this beforehand.
It was that thought that brought Lawrence to ask the question, but after giving him a faint smile, she directed her gaze forward again.
"I think we've grown too close."
Elsa was a servant of God who followed a strict set of rules to the letter.
Though that was Lawrence's impression of her, in that moment, he got a glimpse of her true self.
"I am not used to traveling. I was shaken by a sudden onset of homesickness, that's all."
Elsa originally lived a quiet life in a town called Tereo, watching over a church her father left for her. But as the world started turning a harsh gaze on the Church, she had been summoned to help with other churches here and there with managing their assets and privileges, which is how she came to a land as far north as this.
In her hometown, she apparently had three children with a man named Evan, who, in Lawrence's memory, was still a good-natured milling boy.
"Miss Holo is so sharp. I doubt I can hide my urgency to return home. But..." Elsa gave a long sigh, one that almost made her look smaller. "...I would seem cold and distant if I did not, wouldn't I?"
It was a common sight when traveling.
One could meet another person who would soon become a delightful drinking buddy; someone they could open up to and feel a deep sense of camaraderie with. But the person might suddenly leave one day, citing family reasons. To them, we are nothing more than another guest in a long stream of guests, and they have a firm routine to which they must return.
They would go back to the warm lights of their hearths, and homes filled with laughter. But those who spent their lives on the road would have to return to their inns alone. And when dawn broke again, they would move on to the next town.
Along her brief travels, Elsa must have tasted that particular flavor of loneliness.
Despite how tightly tied back her hair was, and how it seemed her astute, honey-tinted eyes saw nothing but logic and reason, Lawrence knew that she was much warmer and kinder than the average person.
The reason she found it difficult to bring up leaving was because she did not want to hurt the lone wolf.
"Should I tell her, then? I was just thinking that it was time for us to move on to the next town."

Output:
The smile she offered him after that was tinged by self-reproach.
"I feel like a child asking for help broaching a difficult topic."
When she had first met Lawrence, she might have brought up her leaving without much thought or warning, simply because it was the truth.
But Lawrence saw it differently.
"Learning when and how to rely on others is a part of becoming an adult, I think."
Back when he was hoping to become an independent merchant, he thought becoming an adult meant being able to solve every problem on his own.
It was not long before he learned that was, of course, an ignorant young man's hubris.
"...You act an upstanding man in your own right, so long as you're away from Miss Holo."
Elsa's exasperated yet spiteful remark earned her an honest smile from Lawrence.
"I rarely have a leg to stand on with her."
Elsa gave an exaggerated shrug, like a city girl, before ultimately smiling.
"I had not expected much when I sent you the letter. But if our unexpected reunion is anything to go by, I believe we will cross paths again," she said, not looking in Lawrence's direction. Nyohhira and Tereo were distant, and neither of them were young anymore, so logical thinking dictated they would never see each other again.
Lawrence glanced at her profile before turning to face forward himself. "If anything, you should say that to Holo," he said.
He did not know if she looked at him.
As the plaza came into view, they saw that the outside of the liveliest tavern was the site for yet another contest to see who could drink the most.
The silhouette right in the middle of all the commotion, Lawrence knew without a doubt, belonged to his beloved wolf.
"I'm not sure I can find the right words," Elsa said. Despite that, once they met up with Holo and Tanya, Lawrence asked her what she planned on doing after this, just as they agreed, to which she flawlessly replied that she would be returning to Tereo, and that she had been happy to see Holo again.
Holo did not seem particularly upset about having to part ways with Elsa; she was considerably drunk, after all, and she had to keep up appearances with her pseudo-protégée, Tanya, sitting beside her.
She even promised to meet again in her premature words of parting; she was optimistic, already looking forward to their next reunion.
Tanya and Elsa returned to the church together that night, and Lawrence dragged wobbly Holo back to the inn. It seemed as though Holo was taking the sadness that came with a journey's unavoidable partings well, only with the help of alcohol, and placing it neatly at her feet.
Once the new day dawned, Holo eagerly went to join the drinking competitions early in the morning, leaving Lawrence to watch her gallant profile from the inn window as he thought about their imminent departure.
Preparing for a departure always started slow, but Lawrence's primary objective in their journey was to check up on their only daughter, Myuri. He was eager to get moving, and he knew he could not drag his feet.
Yet the reason he found himself thinking of his old mentor was likely because he was a bit apprehensive of what was to come.
It was not because they were yet to determine Myuri and Col's precise location, nor because a trying winter journey was ahead of them. It was a problem that was more down-to-earth, easier to understand, and perhaps even vexing to some.
What Lawrence was worried about was what would come after the unexpectedly brilliant and lively time they spent with Elsa and Tanya—the heavy, lingering quiet.
The reason his stray cat of a mentor rarely ever interacted with others was less because of the trade advantages it afforded him with the kinds of people he met along his travels, and more out of a more cowardly cautiousness—so that he would not be swallowed by the ebbing tide of loneliness.
His own parting with Lawrence had been sudden. When Lawrence awoke one morning, the man was gone.


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

Input:
The smile she offered him after that was tinged by self-reproach.
"I feel like a child asking for help broaching a difficult topic."
When she had first met Lawrence, she might have brought up her leaving without much thought or warning, simply because it was the truth.
But Lawrence saw it differently.
"Learning when and how to rely on others is a part of becoming an adult, I think."
Back when he was hoping to become an independent merchant, he thought becoming an adult meant being able to solve every problem on his own.
It was not long before he learned that was, of course, an ignorant young man's hubris.
"...You act an upstanding man in your own right, so long as you're away from Miss Holo."
Elsa's exasperated yet spiteful remark earned her an honest smile from Lawrence.
"I rarely have a leg to stand on with her."
Elsa gave an exaggerated shrug, like a city girl, before ultimately smiling.
"I had not expected much when I sent you the letter. But if our unexpected reunion is anything to go by, I believe we will cross paths again," she said, not looking in Lawrence's direction. Nyohhira and Tereo were distant, and neither of them were young anymore, so logical thinking dictated they would never see each other again.
Lawrence glanced at her profile before turning to face forward himself. "If anything, you should say that to Holo," he said.
He did not know if she looked at him.
As the plaza came into view, they saw that the outside of the liveliest tavern was the site for yet another contest to see who could drink the most.
The silhouette right in the middle of all the commotion, Lawrence knew without a doubt, belonged to his beloved wolf.
"I'm not sure I can find the right words," Elsa said. Despite that, once they met up with Holo and Tanya, Lawrence asked her what she planned on doing after this, just as they agreed, to which she flawlessly replied that she would be returning to Tereo, and that she had been happy to see Holo again.
Holo did not seem particularly upset about having to part ways with Elsa; she was considerably drunk, after all, and she had to keep up appearances with her pseudo-protégée, Tanya, sitting beside her.
She even promised to meet again in her premature words of parting; she was optimistic, already looking forward to their next reunion.
Tanya and Elsa returned to the church together that night, and Lawrence dragged wobbly Holo back to the inn. It seemed as though Holo was taking the sadness that came with a journey's unavoidable partings well, only with the help of alcohol, and placing it neatly at her feet.
Once the new day dawned, Holo eagerly went to join the drinking competitions early in the morning, leaving Lawrence to watch her gallant profile from the inn window as he thought about their imminent departure.
Preparing for a departure always started slow, but Lawrence's primary objective in their journey was to check up on their only daughter, Myuri. He was eager to get moving, and he knew he could not drag his feet.
Yet the reason he found himself thinking of his old mentor was likely because he was a bit apprehensive of what was to come.
It was not because they were yet to determine Myuri and Col's precise location, nor because a trying winter journey was ahead of them. It was a problem that was more down-to-earth, easier to understand, and perhaps even vexing to some.
What Lawrence was worried about was what would come after the unexpectedly brilliant and lively time they spent with Elsa and Tanya—the heavy, lingering quiet.
The reason his stray cat of a mentor rarely ever interacted with others was less because of the trade advantages it afforded him with the kinds of people he met along his travels, and more out of a more cowardly cautiousness—so that he would not be swallowed by the ebbing tide of loneliness.
His own parting with Lawrence had been sudden. When Lawrence awoke one morning, the man was gone.

Output:
When he first thought back on his mentor after he finally found his rhythm as a traveling merchant, he found that the memories had smoothed over with time, and they had settled into the recesses of his heart without any lingering pain.
Now, he understood that that was his mentor's unique way of looking out for him.
It had been so casual, but he only understood the weight of that choice after the fact. Though there was room for debate as to whether or not his crotchety old mentor's way of doing things was correct, he had indeed learned something about decisiveness in that moment. When he looked back on his life, he realized that rather than the basics of trade, this experience was the greatest lesson he had received.
So he, too, knew that he had to pay careful consideration to his traveling companion in much the same way in times like these.
Your student's still doing well for himself, Lawrence told the memory of his mentor, then downed the rest of his ale.
Outside his window, Holo—who was quite the celebrity in Salonia by now—had her arm linked through that of a sturdy-looking dock loader, and they were drinking their cups dry.
"She'll be hungover tomorrow, so I guess we'll leave the day after, or the day after that," Lawrence murmured and stood, grabbing his coat as he left the room.
Beyond the open window, Holo lifted up her empty cup and basked in the cheers and applause.
"Farewell," Elsa said briefly, and began walking down the road, headed south. It had been two days since the festival in Salonia had ended, and as the morning came once again, a reluctant air filled the town, a hint that the townsfolk would begrudgingly return to their daily lives in preparation for winter.
She had sensed that if she stayed in town one day longer, the bishop, reputed for being glib, would yet again push some troublesome affair onto her plate, so she had quite bluntly said no to any more requests for work.
Standing next to her was Tanya, who was going to be accompanying her to Tereo. Tanya kept turning around to look at Holo and wave.
At first, Holo had waved back every time, but she soon grew tired of the act and no longer raised her hand.
Yet Lawrence and Holo stood there watching until Tanya and Elsa vanished completely; Holo stared out down the path, a whirl of emotion hidden behind her faint smile.
"What excitement that was, no?"
When they were finally gone, Holo planted her hands on her hips and spoke.
"We were surprisingly busy."
They had originally left the hot spring village of Nyohhira in order to check on their only daughter, Myuri, who had also left on a journey. But as they followed her trail, they reunited with Elsa, met Tanya, a squirrel spirit who lived on a mountain rumored to be cursed, helped merchants who had been suffocated by a tangled web of debt, and even helped a man from the distant desert—whose true nature was that of a bishop—connect with his own villagers.
All of that had made them quite well-known in Salonia, which led to him selling quite a big load of the sulfur powder, a key element in the hot springs, which Lawrence brought all the way from Nyohhira. They had also managed to replenish some of the smaller value coins that they had been lacking in as of late.
And most importantly, he had managed to spread word of their bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf, to the people of influence in town.
If he could tangibly harvest the fruits of a journey, then this would have been an amazing crop, but the fields after a particularly lush season often seemed starkly barren in comparison.
Even Lawrence, who was no match for Holo even in daily life, could stand toe to toe with the centuries-old wolf in terms of travel experience.
Lawrence had come up with a thorough plan so that the lonely wolf would not get swallowed by the sudden wash of negative emotions that so often caught travelers off guard.
"I suppose...'tis time for us to depart, too."


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

Input:
When he first thought back on his mentor after he finally found his rhythm as a traveling merchant, he found that the memories had smoothed over with time, and they had settled into the recesses of his heart without any lingering pain.
Now, he understood that that was his mentor's unique way of looking out for him.
It had been so casual, but he only understood the weight of that choice after the fact. Though there was room for debate as to whether or not his crotchety old mentor's way of doing things was correct, he had indeed learned something about decisiveness in that moment. When he looked back on his life, he realized that rather than the basics of trade, this experience was the greatest lesson he had received.
So he, too, knew that he had to pay careful consideration to his traveling companion in much the same way in times like these.
Your student's still doing well for himself, Lawrence told the memory of his mentor, then downed the rest of his ale.
Outside his window, Holo—who was quite the celebrity in Salonia by now—had her arm linked through that of a sturdy-looking dock loader, and they were drinking their cups dry.
"She'll be hungover tomorrow, so I guess we'll leave the day after, or the day after that," Lawrence murmured and stood, grabbing his coat as he left the room.
Beyond the open window, Holo lifted up her empty cup and basked in the cheers and applause.
"Farewell," Elsa said briefly, and began walking down the road, headed south. It had been two days since the festival in Salonia had ended, and as the morning came once again, a reluctant air filled the town, a hint that the townsfolk would begrudgingly return to their daily lives in preparation for winter.
She had sensed that if she stayed in town one day longer, the bishop, reputed for being glib, would yet again push some troublesome affair onto her plate, so she had quite bluntly said no to any more requests for work.
Standing next to her was Tanya, who was going to be accompanying her to Tereo. Tanya kept turning around to look at Holo and wave.
At first, Holo had waved back every time, but she soon grew tired of the act and no longer raised her hand.
Yet Lawrence and Holo stood there watching until Tanya and Elsa vanished completely; Holo stared out down the path, a whirl of emotion hidden behind her faint smile.
"What excitement that was, no?"
When they were finally gone, Holo planted her hands on her hips and spoke.
"We were surprisingly busy."
They had originally left the hot spring village of Nyohhira in order to check on their only daughter, Myuri, who had also left on a journey. But as they followed her trail, they reunited with Elsa, met Tanya, a squirrel spirit who lived on a mountain rumored to be cursed, helped merchants who had been suffocated by a tangled web of debt, and even helped a man from the distant desert—whose true nature was that of a bishop—connect with his own villagers.
All of that had made them quite well-known in Salonia, which led to him selling quite a big load of the sulfur powder, a key element in the hot springs, which Lawrence brought all the way from Nyohhira. They had also managed to replenish some of the smaller value coins that they had been lacking in as of late.
And most importantly, he had managed to spread word of their bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf, to the people of influence in town.
If he could tangibly harvest the fruits of a journey, then this would have been an amazing crop, but the fields after a particularly lush season often seemed starkly barren in comparison.
Even Lawrence, who was no match for Holo even in daily life, could stand toe to toe with the centuries-old wolf in terms of travel experience.
Lawrence had come up with a thorough plan so that the lonely wolf would not get swallowed by the sudden wash of negative emotions that so often caught travelers off guard.
"I suppose...'tis time for us to depart, too."

Output:
They then went to see Elsa and Tanya off, which brought them to the present moment.
Lawrence knew that the melancholy often struck out of the blue during moments like this.
"But first, there's a place we need to visit."
"Oh? Are we drinking more?"
There was a genuine glint in her eye, which brought an unwitting smile to Lawrence's face.
"No... Well, maybe."
Holo looked dubiously at Lawrence in response to his ambiguous answer, but her tail began to swish back and forth in delight at the prospect of drinking.
"Remember how the church promised they'd send a bit of wheat from their fields as thanks for mediating on the tariffs?"
"Ah, yes, I remember."
Holo sounded rather indifferent, but when she had learned that he was having wheat sent to the bathhouse every year as a reminder of their journey to that place, she was overjoyed.
She was never honest with her feelings, but that was what made her so adorable. Lawrence said to her, "We still need to decide which zone will be sending us the wheat."
"Hmm?"
"It really isn't enough for us to just ask for the best wheat every year. It might not only be an armful, but we could probably get the wheat that grows from our territory."
This was more of a formal exchange, not so one about actually getting the best wheat possible, so it was possible to call him an upstanding noble since he was the one receiving the tribute.
Lawrence looked proud, but Holo only reacted with a cold demeanor.
"It matters not where it comes from. You may pick anywhere from this land, and it will not change."
Perhaps she could not be bothered to go out into the fields, or perhaps she was not fond of the idea to cross the bridge made of boats to get there.
But Lawrence grabbed Holo's shoulders and began to guide her as he walked.
"Oh, no, we can't have that. Come on, let's go."
"Mm? Dear, what are you—goodness."
Lawrence urged an annoyed Holo on, and once they returned to the inn, they started getting ready for their departure.
They packed the cart full of things so that they would be ready to leave right after selecting their wheat field, bid good-bye to all those they had gotten to know well, then left town before noon.
Though Lawrence thought Salonia might quiet down after the festival, the town had taken on life in a different sense; all those who had spent their time idling around for the festival were now working diligently to get everything put away before winter.
That meant there were many people crossing the pontoon bridge, causing quite the sway. Holo ultimately found herself hunched over on the cart bed, holding her head in her hands.
On the opposite bank, Lawrence bought a few thinly-sliced pieces of beef shoulder from one of the food stalls, placed it on the driver's perch, and Holo at last grumpily crawled her way to the front.
"I want wine," she said as she tore into the beef, still a bit pink in the middle, but Lawrence ignored her as he gazed up at the sky, urging the cart forward.
People shouldering farming tools and carts filled with stacks of straw rushed by them in either direction, but what stood out the most were the girls walking boldly, carrying massive scythes that were bigger than them.
Once the fortress tower came into view, they saw that patches were starting to be harvested from what was a perfect, unbroken blanket of crop just a few days earlier.
"Mm! The delicious aroma of wheat."
There was a hint of dust, but accompanied by the rich scent of wheat on the calm breeze.
Holo, licking her fingers clean after devouring the meat, allowed the wind to brush gently past her cheek—she seemed perfectly happy again.
"Pick out a spot that looks like it's producing good wheat. You can choose wherever you want."
"'Twill only be from an arm's width, though, no?"
"Pick wherever you want from an arm's width."
Holo turned a cold gaze toward Lawrence, but her wolf ears were twitching happily beneath her hood.


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

Input:
They then went to see Elsa and Tanya off, which brought them to the present moment.
Lawrence knew that the melancholy often struck out of the blue during moments like this.
"But first, there's a place we need to visit."
"Oh? Are we drinking more?"
There was a genuine glint in her eye, which brought an unwitting smile to Lawrence's face.
"No... Well, maybe."
Holo looked dubiously at Lawrence in response to his ambiguous answer, but her tail began to swish back and forth in delight at the prospect of drinking.
"Remember how the church promised they'd send a bit of wheat from their fields as thanks for mediating on the tariffs?"
"Ah, yes, I remember."
Holo sounded rather indifferent, but when she had learned that he was having wheat sent to the bathhouse every year as a reminder of their journey to that place, she was overjoyed.
She was never honest with her feelings, but that was what made her so adorable. Lawrence said to her, "We still need to decide which zone will be sending us the wheat."
"Hmm?"
"It really isn't enough for us to just ask for the best wheat every year. It might not only be an armful, but we could probably get the wheat that grows from our territory."
This was more of a formal exchange, not so one about actually getting the best wheat possible, so it was possible to call him an upstanding noble since he was the one receiving the tribute.
Lawrence looked proud, but Holo only reacted with a cold demeanor.
"It matters not where it comes from. You may pick anywhere from this land, and it will not change."
Perhaps she could not be bothered to go out into the fields, or perhaps she was not fond of the idea to cross the bridge made of boats to get there.
But Lawrence grabbed Holo's shoulders and began to guide her as he walked.
"Oh, no, we can't have that. Come on, let's go."
"Mm? Dear, what are you—goodness."
Lawrence urged an annoyed Holo on, and once they returned to the inn, they started getting ready for their departure.
They packed the cart full of things so that they would be ready to leave right after selecting their wheat field, bid good-bye to all those they had gotten to know well, then left town before noon.
Though Lawrence thought Salonia might quiet down after the festival, the town had taken on life in a different sense; all those who had spent their time idling around for the festival were now working diligently to get everything put away before winter.
That meant there were many people crossing the pontoon bridge, causing quite the sway. Holo ultimately found herself hunched over on the cart bed, holding her head in her hands.
On the opposite bank, Lawrence bought a few thinly-sliced pieces of beef shoulder from one of the food stalls, placed it on the driver's perch, and Holo at last grumpily crawled her way to the front.
"I want wine," she said as she tore into the beef, still a bit pink in the middle, but Lawrence ignored her as he gazed up at the sky, urging the cart forward.
People shouldering farming tools and carts filled with stacks of straw rushed by them in either direction, but what stood out the most were the girls walking boldly, carrying massive scythes that were bigger than them.
Once the fortress tower came into view, they saw that patches were starting to be harvested from what was a perfect, unbroken blanket of crop just a few days earlier.
"Mm! The delicious aroma of wheat."
There was a hint of dust, but accompanied by the rich scent of wheat on the calm breeze.
Holo, licking her fingers clean after devouring the meat, allowed the wind to brush gently past her cheek—she seemed perfectly happy again.
"Pick out a spot that looks like it's producing good wheat. You can choose wherever you want."
"'Twill only be from an arm's width, though, no?"
"Pick wherever you want from an arm's width."
Holo turned a cold gaze toward Lawrence, but her wolf ears were twitching happily beneath her hood.

Output:
"This reminds me of the past."
Holo once ruled over the wheat harvest in a village called Pasloe. It was a village Lawrence had frequented for his trade; it had been a lively little place, since a festival was always held around harvest time.
Though there was no proper festival held here, it being a fortress meant that the location came equipped with a storehouse and a central square, and so at this time of year, when all the farmers were hard at work, Lawrence had heard that it took on the spirit of a festival in its own right.
Some time later, Salonia saw the harvest begin in the area around the fortress. At the same time, wheat that had been harvested a bit earlier was brought in to be husked. Lawrence guessed that it was going to be even livelier than he imagined.
That was because song and drink were easily passed around in places of monotonous labor.
"Oh ho! Now this is a good festival!"
Lawrence smiled as Holo, sitting atop the driver's perch, began to delight in the sounds of singing and the smell of smoke from cookfires.
Farmers and children hopped onto the cart bed without warning along the way, likely thinking he was one of the passing merchants. Once they entered the fort and the familiar assistant priest, who was overseeing the harvesting and the husking, saw Lawrence and Holo, his eyes went wide with surprise.
"I'm sorry to intrude while you're so busy. We came to choose the land for our wheat."
The assistant priest gave them an exasperated look, but he had no time to be angry with them.
"Pick whichever land you like. And feel free to watch the husking."
The offer to watch was a roundabout way for him to ask them to help with the task, and Holo was surprisingly keen.
"You may use my horse to help, too."
The assistant priest drew up his shoulders and immediately called out to the villagers.
Lawrence pretended not to notice the little glare he thought the horse gave him now that it had been saddled with the role of pack animal.
When Holo and Lawrence came to the field together, they saw that the harvest had progressed rather far in the fields by the fortress. People were planting stakes in the ground and gathering all the harvested wheat together to be dried.
"They only started harvesting yesterday, or the day before, but they've already gathered so much."
In the distance they spotted young girls with long pigtails, deftly wielding their massive scythes. Just like when it came to grape stomping for wine-making, harvesting the wheat was the time for the local girls to shine.
"Shall we take a little look around?"
"It truly does not matter where we go," Holo said, yet she still took Lawrence's hand and set off with light steps.
They occasionally took walks together in Nyohhira, but the village was mostly comprised of narrow paths and a steamy haze, and a step out of the village brought them to a deep wood. It was not since their old journey that they had been able to walk the plains with such extensive vistas as this.
Holo hummed as she walked, smiling at the sight of bewildered frogs and rabbits that had been chased from their sleeping spots among the wheat.
"Should I still see if I can make that fortress ours?"
If they were to turn around on their little footpath, they would see said fortress standing dignified atop the hill. They could take leisurely walks along this path whenever they wanted if they lived there. And people would refer to them as lord and lady as a bonus, making it the peak of their progress in life.
But Holo cackled, her laugh sounding almost like a cough as her shoulders shuddered, and she brushed off some scraps of straw that clung to her shoulder as she said, "Stone buildings are much too cold for me."
"You're right. We're both getting old, anyway."
Holo gave him a dubious look and patted his back.
"But that rambunctious Myuri would be delighted if we were to make the castle ours."
That was their only daughter, who would make swords out of sticks and eagerly pretend to play the hero.


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

Input:
"This reminds me of the past."
Holo once ruled over the wheat harvest in a village called Pasloe. It was a village Lawrence had frequented for his trade; it had been a lively little place, since a festival was always held around harvest time.
Though there was no proper festival held here, it being a fortress meant that the location came equipped with a storehouse and a central square, and so at this time of year, when all the farmers were hard at work, Lawrence had heard that it took on the spirit of a festival in its own right.
Some time later, Salonia saw the harvest begin in the area around the fortress. At the same time, wheat that had been harvested a bit earlier was brought in to be husked. Lawrence guessed that it was going to be even livelier than he imagined.
That was because song and drink were easily passed around in places of monotonous labor.
"Oh ho! Now this is a good festival!"
Lawrence smiled as Holo, sitting atop the driver's perch, began to delight in the sounds of singing and the smell of smoke from cookfires.
Farmers and children hopped onto the cart bed without warning along the way, likely thinking he was one of the passing merchants. Once they entered the fort and the familiar assistant priest, who was overseeing the harvesting and the husking, saw Lawrence and Holo, his eyes went wide with surprise.
"I'm sorry to intrude while you're so busy. We came to choose the land for our wheat."
The assistant priest gave them an exasperated look, but he had no time to be angry with them.
"Pick whichever land you like. And feel free to watch the husking."
The offer to watch was a roundabout way for him to ask them to help with the task, and Holo was surprisingly keen.
"You may use my horse to help, too."
The assistant priest drew up his shoulders and immediately called out to the villagers.
Lawrence pretended not to notice the little glare he thought the horse gave him now that it had been saddled with the role of pack animal.
When Holo and Lawrence came to the field together, they saw that the harvest had progressed rather far in the fields by the fortress. People were planting stakes in the ground and gathering all the harvested wheat together to be dried.
"They only started harvesting yesterday, or the day before, but they've already gathered so much."
In the distance they spotted young girls with long pigtails, deftly wielding their massive scythes. Just like when it came to grape stomping for wine-making, harvesting the wheat was the time for the local girls to shine.
"Shall we take a little look around?"
"It truly does not matter where we go," Holo said, yet she still took Lawrence's hand and set off with light steps.
They occasionally took walks together in Nyohhira, but the village was mostly comprised of narrow paths and a steamy haze, and a step out of the village brought them to a deep wood. It was not since their old journey that they had been able to walk the plains with such extensive vistas as this.
Holo hummed as she walked, smiling at the sight of bewildered frogs and rabbits that had been chased from their sleeping spots among the wheat.
"Should I still see if I can make that fortress ours?"
If they were to turn around on their little footpath, they would see said fortress standing dignified atop the hill. They could take leisurely walks along this path whenever they wanted if they lived there. And people would refer to them as lord and lady as a bonus, making it the peak of their progress in life.
But Holo cackled, her laugh sounding almost like a cough as her shoulders shuddered, and she brushed off some scraps of straw that clung to her shoulder as she said, "Stone buildings are much too cold for me."
"You're right. We're both getting old, anyway."
Holo gave him a dubious look and patted his back.
"But that rambunctious Myuri would be delighted if we were to make the castle ours."
That was their only daughter, who would make swords out of sticks and eagerly pretend to play the hero.

Output:
His daughter, who used to constantly beg for his company, now no longer wanted anything to do with him as she grew. And she was also perfectly old enough for it to be possible that she had gotten married off in a land he knew nothing about. He thought that perhaps he liked it better if they could get this stone fortress for her, so that she could indulge in playing knight to her heart's content.
As he seriously considered it, he felt a cold stare on him, and he turned to look at the source.
"You fool," Holo said with a sigh.
Lawrence looked reluctantly at the fortress one more time, then dropped his shoulders.
"You never know when to give up, do you?"
"...We have a lot of very nice things because of that, though."
"You argue simply to argue." Holo reached out with a small hand to pinch Lawrence's cheek and a delighted smile crossed her face. "And what about here for land?"
With the opposite hand, Holo pointed to the corner of one zone.
It was beside a small hedgerow, planted there either to alleviate the wind or for firewood, or perhaps even as a way to demarcate the zone.
"You think it grows best in places like that?" Lawrence asked, impressed; he was a complete novice when it came to field work. Maybe the leaves that fell in the winter served as good fertilizer.
Holo gave a slight shrug. "'Tis simply a spot easy to find."
***
Lawrence looked at Holo in mild disappointment, and his wife, once known as the wisewolf, glared at him.
"Do not underestimate places that are easy to find. The fields change more than you know. Those who till the land change, too. But markers like those stay the same for decades, centuries. When you found that old map in the castle, you must have found some markers that had not changed for a long time, though the shape of the fields themselves change."
"Now that you mention it, we were there when people were arguing over land boundaries along our old journey. We needed your wisdom to solve that one, too."
Even if it had been preserved in writing, differences in interpretation and boundaries blurred over the years made for the seed of future dispute.
What Holo had proposed to those villagers in order to avoid such conflict in the future was rather violent—to bring their children to the boundary line, and pinch their cheeks as hard as they could. The children would never forget that moment, and it would prove the standard for when they quarreled over the boundary again in the future.
That said, they could not drag along a poor local child and pinch their cheeks for an arm width's amount of land, so hedgerows like these served as a good marker.
I see, of course she is the wisewolf, the one who rules over wheat, Lawrence thought, but Holo looked up at him with a hard stare.
"You made it so the wheat would be sent to Nyohhira for decades—no, centuries to come, yes?"
Lawrence had asked the church to send them wheat as part of the landowning rights that they held, not as a bit of thanks.
This was where they could use the power of tax history, an unbroken chain recorded since the beginning of the era of humanity, and the method easily kept Holo's longevity, one that far surpassed human lives, in mind.
That methodology seemed a bit ridiculous for such a small portion of land, just an armful, but it had been necessary for Lawrence.
That was because it was the centuries-old wisewolf, the one that would live much longer than Lawrence himself, the one that looked exactly like the pretty young girl she was when he first met her.
Lawrence made it so that the memories of their journey would always reach Holo in Nyohhira in the form of wheat.
"You could have picked a better parting gift," she said, patting her hand on his chest.
And oddly, Lawrence found comfort in how she always seemed one step ahead. "I can never win with you, can I?"
"No, you cannot," she chuckled.
Lawrence took her hand and spun her around.
"Now then, let's put this zone down on parchment, and help with husking and whatnot in the meanwhile."


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

Input:
His daughter, who used to constantly beg for his company, now no longer wanted anything to do with him as she grew. And she was also perfectly old enough for it to be possible that she had gotten married off in a land he knew nothing about. He thought that perhaps he liked it better if they could get this stone fortress for her, so that she could indulge in playing knight to her heart's content.
As he seriously considered it, he felt a cold stare on him, and he turned to look at the source.
"You fool," Holo said with a sigh.
Lawrence looked reluctantly at the fortress one more time, then dropped his shoulders.
"You never know when to give up, do you?"
"...We have a lot of very nice things because of that, though."
"You argue simply to argue." Holo reached out with a small hand to pinch Lawrence's cheek and a delighted smile crossed her face. "And what about here for land?"
With the opposite hand, Holo pointed to the corner of one zone.
It was beside a small hedgerow, planted there either to alleviate the wind or for firewood, or perhaps even as a way to demarcate the zone.
"You think it grows best in places like that?" Lawrence asked, impressed; he was a complete novice when it came to field work. Maybe the leaves that fell in the winter served as good fertilizer.
Holo gave a slight shrug. "'Tis simply a spot easy to find."
***
Lawrence looked at Holo in mild disappointment, and his wife, once known as the wisewolf, glared at him.
"Do not underestimate places that are easy to find. The fields change more than you know. Those who till the land change, too. But markers like those stay the same for decades, centuries. When you found that old map in the castle, you must have found some markers that had not changed for a long time, though the shape of the fields themselves change."
"Now that you mention it, we were there when people were arguing over land boundaries along our old journey. We needed your wisdom to solve that one, too."
Even if it had been preserved in writing, differences in interpretation and boundaries blurred over the years made for the seed of future dispute.
What Holo had proposed to those villagers in order to avoid such conflict in the future was rather violent—to bring their children to the boundary line, and pinch their cheeks as hard as they could. The children would never forget that moment, and it would prove the standard for when they quarreled over the boundary again in the future.
That said, they could not drag along a poor local child and pinch their cheeks for an arm width's amount of land, so hedgerows like these served as a good marker.
I see, of course she is the wisewolf, the one who rules over wheat, Lawrence thought, but Holo looked up at him with a hard stare.
"You made it so the wheat would be sent to Nyohhira for decades—no, centuries to come, yes?"
Lawrence had asked the church to send them wheat as part of the landowning rights that they held, not as a bit of thanks.
This was where they could use the power of tax history, an unbroken chain recorded since the beginning of the era of humanity, and the method easily kept Holo's longevity, one that far surpassed human lives, in mind.
That methodology seemed a bit ridiculous for such a small portion of land, just an armful, but it had been necessary for Lawrence.
That was because it was the centuries-old wisewolf, the one that would live much longer than Lawrence himself, the one that looked exactly like the pretty young girl she was when he first met her.
Lawrence made it so that the memories of their journey would always reach Holo in Nyohhira in the form of wheat.
"You could have picked a better parting gift," she said, patting her hand on his chest.
And oddly, Lawrence found comfort in how she always seemed one step ahead. "I can never win with you, can I?"
"No, you cannot," she chuckled.
Lawrence took her hand and spun her around.
"Now then, let's put this zone down on parchment, and help with husking and whatnot in the meanwhile."

Output:
"Ah."
"Well, if that happened, I suppose I would not mind. We would have to remain in this lively town, and I will simply have to continue drinking."
"They're probably going to start asking you to pay if you did that."
Holo was famous in Salonia, and her spirited drinking earned her free booze here and there, but she was dangerously close to overstaying her welcome.
"All you do is think of stingy profits."
"When I think about how much I've spent on alcohol for you, I start to wonder if we should've made a vineyard instead of a bathhouse."
"You fool!" Holo took the hand she had intwined with Lawrence's and smacked his back. "Then we would be stuck drinking wine all the time!"
What she said did not exactly sound like a joke, so Lawrence had no choice but to stand down.
"And all sorts of drinks find their way to Nyohhira," she added. "Everything tastes good whilst soaking in the baths."
Elsa would surely scold her again if she heard that, but Lawrence knew he was partially responsible for always treating her to a drink, wanting to see her happy.
"We should see if we can find an alcohol spring instead."
"'Twould be most ideal, yes."
Even though their motives were likely not quite on the same page, Lawrence did not point that out; he only tugged her hand to lead her back to the fortress with a shake of his head.
Songs sung as monotonous manual labor was being done were repetitions of easy-to-remember stanzas and melodies. Both Lawrence and Holo quickly learned the tune, took their own tools for husking—two sticks connected together by a string—and joined in the villagers singing as they worked the wheat.
Holo had spent centuries in Pasloe, but she only ever helped with the harvest work herself a few times in the distant past; she had simply watched in the times after that.
The reason she quickly gave up husking the wheat was less out of boredom and more out of her inherent curiosity—she wanted to see what the other work was like.
She joined in with the ones who bit into the harvested wheat to see if it had dried completely and helped out with picking chaff and other contaminants from the wheat in a big washtub. There had been a particular trick to shaking out the washtub, and the other girls there giggled at her as she ended up shaking her hips more than the tub.
The harvesting work in the fortress would last for more than one or two days. And so, instead of persevering throughout the entire thing, people often changed jobs or stepped out briefly, giving the sense that they would carry on with this work in a relaxed manner for a long time.
Just as Lawrence found himself getting lost in the rhythm of the monotonous work, one of the villagers asked to switch with him, and he reluctantly handed over his husking sticks.
"Now, then." He glanced around the area to find Holo missing from the lively castle garden. He asked around and learned that once she was done helping pick out bad-quality grains from a mountain of the wheat, she had gone into the main house.
Though it was getting closer to the height of autumn, it was still rather hot when the sun was high in the sky. Lawrence wondered if she had worn herself out and was taking a rest since she had such a terrible hangover the day before. Holo was typically slothful, so she would sometimes push herself too far when it came to work like this and suddenly run out of energy.
Despite his worry, Lawrence thought she was likely all right if she had taken a break of her own accord, so he decided to wrap up the matter on the delivery of their goods. He fished out some parchment from their things and made his way into the great room, where the assistant priest was watching over everything.
"Have you chosen a field?"