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

Input:
"Mmm, we'll find out when we get there soon enough."
Having come this far, that was all he could say. He gripped the reins, urging the horse to trot faster than usual.
Beside him, Holo nodded, looking unable to calm down.
Whatever the case with him, Holo was feeling stress at the possibility of meeting a comrade she had not seen in centuries. It was at times like these that he had to keep himself together.
Thinking this, Lawrence wondered what he could do about it, what words he could say to her, what small talk he could use to distract her.
But as his intention would be all too clear either way, he could not think of anything good to say.
He was well aware that outside of commerce, his way of speaking was simple and rustic.
That was why, even with the incident in Lenos in the back of his mind, Lawrence did what he could.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out beside him with his gloved hand and took Holo's hand. He held it as if to say, "Don't worry." Of course, Holo looked at him as if startled, and then gave her hand a good, long look as Lawrence held it. For his part, Lawrence desperately kept his gaze ahead, half expecting to be slugged at any moment.
However, Holo did not move. They spent a while like this, which was very awkward and difficult for him.
Perhaps he was simply projecting his own insecurities onto Holo. She was not the weak girl her appearance would suggest, after all.
Even so, Holo grasped Lawrence's hand back.
This was the belly of the Debau Company's vast mining belt holdings.
Even Kieman, branch manager of the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, had told Lawrence not to meddle with the giant company.
Down the road, the town of Lesko came into sight.
Here inside the town, in the middle of the street, Lawrence was in complete shock.
No matter what he said, no matter how many times he looked around, it was true.
In the first place, there were no walls. While thinking they were not quite there yet, he had somehow found himself inside the town.
Furthermore, he had convinced himself that this being a mining company, there must be mines nearby, but he had been mistaken. Certainly the mountains were but a short distance away, but Lesko bore no sign of the cramped, boisterous atmosphere that all mining towns shared.
And finally, the town was certainly not small. If anything, it was huge.
There were numerous grand buildings, and it seemed like half the surface of the ground had been sliced away only to have paving stones inserted in its place. Thanks to this, people and wagons made peculiar sounds as they came and went. It must have taken years of work to plant and maintain whole trees on the side of the road like this. How did they raise money for such expenses without walls? And all the roads were well maintained, even the little-trafficked inner streets.
Furthermore, the residents' faces were full of life, without one shred of thought that a war was about to break out. Or that if one was, it was already won.
"Are we truly in the right place...?"
He understood quite well the feeling that made Holo ask him this.
Amalgamating all the stories they had heard so far, this was a mining town steeped in sin where the greedy among the northlands huddled together in secret, avarice-filled conferences, scheming as to how to plunge the land into fear and mayhem.
But was that really the case?
The sales booths that lined the streets were overflowing with customers; alongside them were musicians, bards, clowns, and other attractions, drawing many people all around them.
There were more dangerous sorts as well. However, rather than uniformly bearing crude pikes and so forth, they spent their daylight hours playing cards, drinking wine, and so forth at taverns catering to travelers. There were clergymen loitering about as well, but as they all seemed rather well dressed, they gave off no sense of launching some sort of austere religious mission.
What was going on here?

Output:
"Seems rather enjoyable," Holo muttered. "'Twould seem we were fools to have been worried so over this."
He did not want to accept that, but she had a point.
There was still a possibility, though, that this was only the surface.
"What do you wish to do?"
As Holo asked that, Lawrence mentally regrouped.
"It goes without saying. We'll do what we came here for. Right?"
Perhaps because he spoke with such deliberate effort, Holo widened her eyes a bit before chuckling and nodded.
Lawrence headed toward an inn that he had learned of beforehand, thanks to the letter Philon, the trader from the Delink Company who specialized in dealing with mercenaries, had given him. It was here that the entirety of the Myuri Mercenary Company, which had long done business with the Delink Company, was quartered. As a small mercenary company with no idea when or where some ruler or armed group might come raiding, it positioned itself where it could be informed of such details by its business partner.
And if that business partner felt the need to do continuing business, political or financial support would be forthcoming, it seemed.
Beyond that, an organization that handled slaves like the Delink Company was naturally able to glean information from influential organizations more easily. Introducing yourself to your potential next employer was just part of doing business. Even for mercenary companies seemingly living on the edge, the leadership side of the coin was little different from being a merchant.
The town was large and bustling, but perhaps because of the lack of walls, the buildings had a comfortable width to them.
Even at the inn, which they reached while making inquiries of people along the road to it, the barn was so thoroughly stuffed with wagons bearing the mercenary company's baggage that there was barely any space left at all. But it was the fact the doors at the entrance had small panes of glass embedded in it that truly established that this was no ordinary land.
When Lawrence showed a young man acting in the role of a guide that he had business at the inn, the latter barely questioned it as he took the reins of the horse. Perhaps many people came and went like this, or perhaps it was too obvious to be worth noticing.
Lawrence hesitated for several moments after handing the wagon over, but with Holo already under stress, he would only add to her worries if he grew timid here.
He got down from the driver's seat and flicked a tip in a display of ample confidence.
"I'll take good care of him, sir."
He was a little older than Col, but his smile, pronunciation, and handling of horses were superb.
He saw from the lad's hair and eye color that he had not been born here. Lawrence had a feeling he came from somewhere farther to the south.
It was Lawrence's habit as a merchant to take note of various things when first entering a town. As the atmosphere here was completely contrary to his initial expectations, he was even more motivated to investigate things left and right.
However, at the moment, the top priority was to meet the Myuri Mercenary Company.
Even though it bore the name of one of Holo's pack mates from her homeland, they could not disregard the possibility it was mere coincidence. After all, the founder of the company may have simply heard about Myuri and thought it a fine name.
To a normal merchant, mercenaries were nothing short of a mortal enemy.
He felt greater tension than when he had been with Philon, the general goods store owner who made catering to mercenaries his specialty.
Holo had been clutching her chest with her right hand the whole time.
"Ready to go in?"
When Lawrence asked, Holo snapped her gaze to him and said, "If you are, aye."
If she could hurl abuse at him, she would be fine.
Lawrence confirmed that his coat covered the letter and slowly opened the inn's front door.


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

Input:
"Seems rather enjoyable," Holo muttered. "'Twould seem we were fools to have been worried so over this."
He did not want to accept that, but she had a point.
There was still a possibility, though, that this was only the surface.
"What do you wish to do?"
As Holo asked that, Lawrence mentally regrouped.
"It goes without saying. We'll do what we came here for. Right?"
Perhaps because he spoke with such deliberate effort, Holo widened her eyes a bit before chuckling and nodded.
Lawrence headed toward an inn that he had learned of beforehand, thanks to the letter Philon, the trader from the Delink Company who specialized in dealing with mercenaries, had given him. It was here that the entirety of the Myuri Mercenary Company, which had long done business with the Delink Company, was quartered. As a small mercenary company with no idea when or where some ruler or armed group might come raiding, it positioned itself where it could be informed of such details by its business partner.
And if that business partner felt the need to do continuing business, political or financial support would be forthcoming, it seemed.
Beyond that, an organization that handled slaves like the Delink Company was naturally able to glean information from influential organizations more easily. Introducing yourself to your potential next employer was just part of doing business. Even for mercenary companies seemingly living on the edge, the leadership side of the coin was little different from being a merchant.
The town was large and bustling, but perhaps because of the lack of walls, the buildings had a comfortable width to them.
Even at the inn, which they reached while making inquiries of people along the road to it, the barn was so thoroughly stuffed with wagons bearing the mercenary company's baggage that there was barely any space left at all. But it was the fact the doors at the entrance had small panes of glass embedded in it that truly established that this was no ordinary land.
When Lawrence showed a young man acting in the role of a guide that he had business at the inn, the latter barely questioned it as he took the reins of the horse. Perhaps many people came and went like this, or perhaps it was too obvious to be worth noticing.
Lawrence hesitated for several moments after handing the wagon over, but with Holo already under stress, he would only add to her worries if he grew timid here.
He got down from the driver's seat and flicked a tip in a display of ample confidence.
"I'll take good care of him, sir."
He was a little older than Col, but his smile, pronunciation, and handling of horses were superb.
He saw from the lad's hair and eye color that he had not been born here. Lawrence had a feeling he came from somewhere farther to the south.
It was Lawrence's habit as a merchant to take note of various things when first entering a town. As the atmosphere here was completely contrary to his initial expectations, he was even more motivated to investigate things left and right.
However, at the moment, the top priority was to meet the Myuri Mercenary Company.
Even though it bore the name of one of Holo's pack mates from her homeland, they could not disregard the possibility it was mere coincidence. After all, the founder of the company may have simply heard about Myuri and thought it a fine name.
To a normal merchant, mercenaries were nothing short of a mortal enemy.
He felt greater tension than when he had been with Philon, the general goods store owner who made catering to mercenaries his specialty.
Holo had been clutching her chest with her right hand the whole time.
"Ready to go in?"
When Lawrence asked, Holo snapped her gaze to him and said, "If you are, aye."
If she could hurl abuse at him, she would be fine.
Lawrence confirmed that his coat covered the letter and slowly opened the inn's front door.

Output:
However, they were not all staring in his direction; indeed, those who had noticed them quickly lost interest and returned to their tabletop card games and chitchat.
Someone who gave off the air of a merchant rose from his chair.
"How may I help you?"
Even though by appearance, he was an ordinary youth similar in physique to Lawrence, his hands looked as thick and tough as pounded leather. He was truly well suited for the transport corps, using horse-drawn wagons to haul the mercenaries' supplies to the field of battle.
His vigilant blue eyes shifted between Lawrence and Holo, perhaps thinking that they were getting in the way of business.
"I've heard that this is where the gentlemen of the Myuri Mercenary Company are staying."
He felt like every set of ears in the entire room reacted to his invoking the name of the company.
Chitchat continued in small voices without anyone moving an inch, but he thought that had paused for a moment.
Perhaps because she was tense, Holo kept her head down throughout.
"That is indeed correct but...did you come to sell something...?"
His eyes showed that he meant Holo.
Certainly, if one brought a woman with them to an inn where a mercenary company was lodging, they could only be selling one thing.
"No...actually, I heard about you from the Delink Company in the town of Lenos."
As Lawrence spoke, he withdrew the letter from inside his coat. As soon as the youth saw the red seal, he reacted, for someone of status had business here.
The probable merchant youth raised his eyebrows a bit and curled the side of his lips. The invocation of the Delink Company's name instantly attracted attention from everyone present.
"Where's the captain?"
The young man watched Lawrence, turning his head back a little as he asked.
"The strategist should be on the second floor," came the reply.
The youth's blue eyes never shifted away from Lawrence even a little.
"Unfortunately the captain is absent, but you can see the strategist."
In any organization, it was an ironclad rule that requests had to climb a ladder with at least one rung on it. All the more so when one's objective was an audience with the captain of a company. Even if the captain was willing to meet anyone at all, one never knew if his subordinates would permit it or not. That made things a little complicated.
When Lawrence nodded and said, "Well, then," the youth began to turn around. That was when he suddenly lifted his face up.
"Ah."
It was not actually clear if he had said that or not, but that is what form the youth's lips seemed to take from Lawrence's perspective. And before Lawrence could turn around, all those seated rose to their feet. He belatedly registered the sound of the cowbell. The youth stood at attention, with those at the other tables doing the same.
When he turned around, the man who had opened the door and entered was of fairly small stature, his hair short, his eyes sharp, giving off a mysterious aura straddling the line between that of a youth and a young man.
"Mm? What?"
To his ears, the grating voice reminded him of the sort he would make if his throat was sore. Even though his garments stressed utility, the extensive use of fur made instantly clear he was a person of high status. The large cloak that hung down his back all the way to the ground made it exceedingly difficult to tell whether he was actually a mercenary or nobility.
"Oh, selling are we? A nun's a bit rare."
A smile came over him, both courteous and treacherous, like an animal's, as he stretched out his hand to Holo's chin, turning her face up toward him. Accustomed to such behavior from people, in an instant, Lawrence switched to a merchant down to the bottom of his heart.
"You are the captain of the Myuri Mercenary Company, I presume?"
He stood straight as he spoke, not a single hint of shadow on his smiling face.


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

Input:
However, they were not all staring in his direction; indeed, those who had noticed them quickly lost interest and returned to their tabletop card games and chitchat.
Someone who gave off the air of a merchant rose from his chair.
"How may I help you?"
Even though by appearance, he was an ordinary youth similar in physique to Lawrence, his hands looked as thick and tough as pounded leather. He was truly well suited for the transport corps, using horse-drawn wagons to haul the mercenaries' supplies to the field of battle.
His vigilant blue eyes shifted between Lawrence and Holo, perhaps thinking that they were getting in the way of business.
"I've heard that this is where the gentlemen of the Myuri Mercenary Company are staying."
He felt like every set of ears in the entire room reacted to his invoking the name of the company.
Chitchat continued in small voices without anyone moving an inch, but he thought that had paused for a moment.
Perhaps because she was tense, Holo kept her head down throughout.
"That is indeed correct but...did you come to sell something...?"
His eyes showed that he meant Holo.
Certainly, if one brought a woman with them to an inn where a mercenary company was lodging, they could only be selling one thing.
"No...actually, I heard about you from the Delink Company in the town of Lenos."
As Lawrence spoke, he withdrew the letter from inside his coat. As soon as the youth saw the red seal, he reacted, for someone of status had business here.
The probable merchant youth raised his eyebrows a bit and curled the side of his lips. The invocation of the Delink Company's name instantly attracted attention from everyone present.
"Where's the captain?"
The young man watched Lawrence, turning his head back a little as he asked.
"The strategist should be on the second floor," came the reply.
The youth's blue eyes never shifted away from Lawrence even a little.
"Unfortunately the captain is absent, but you can see the strategist."
In any organization, it was an ironclad rule that requests had to climb a ladder with at least one rung on it. All the more so when one's objective was an audience with the captain of a company. Even if the captain was willing to meet anyone at all, one never knew if his subordinates would permit it or not. That made things a little complicated.
When Lawrence nodded and said, "Well, then," the youth began to turn around. That was when he suddenly lifted his face up.
"Ah."
It was not actually clear if he had said that or not, but that is what form the youth's lips seemed to take from Lawrence's perspective. And before Lawrence could turn around, all those seated rose to their feet. He belatedly registered the sound of the cowbell. The youth stood at attention, with those at the other tables doing the same.
When he turned around, the man who had opened the door and entered was of fairly small stature, his hair short, his eyes sharp, giving off a mysterious aura straddling the line between that of a youth and a young man.
"Mm? What?"
To his ears, the grating voice reminded him of the sort he would make if his throat was sore. Even though his garments stressed utility, the extensive use of fur made instantly clear he was a person of high status. The large cloak that hung down his back all the way to the ground made it exceedingly difficult to tell whether he was actually a mercenary or nobility.
"Oh, selling are we? A nun's a bit rare."
A smile came over him, both courteous and treacherous, like an animal's, as he stretched out his hand to Holo's chin, turning her face up toward him. Accustomed to such behavior from people, in an instant, Lawrence switched to a merchant down to the bottom of his heart.
"You are the captain of the Myuri Mercenary Company, I presume?"
He stood straight as he spoke, not a single hint of shadow on his smiling face.

Output:
"Mm, indeed I am...what, you're from Delink?"
His hand still touching Holo's chin, he seemed to know he had assumed wrongly the instant he saw the red seal. He quickly pulled his hand back from Holo's chin, looking like a still-innocent youth.
"Ah, my mistake. I was sure you'd come selling. Ah, how rude of me. Certainly she's a bit too beautiful to be merchandise."
Though giving off a vulgar aura, the smile on his face seemed genuine. The smile he directed at Holo in apology for his rudeness held the calm peculiar to those who had seen conflicts between greedy souls to their bitter ends.
The captain of the Myuri Mercenary Company was a little taken aback that Holo's expression did not change at all, but he had surely faced many awkward situations, both in battle and in political bargaining. There were no cracks in his smile as he turned back to Lawrence.
"I am indeed Luward Myuri of the Myuri Mercenary Company. And you?"
As he named himself, the way he tossed back his cloak and put his hand on his hip was very mercenary-like. But to Lawrence's eyes, Luward Myuri was not at all older than he looked. Though Holo certainly had many parts to her that made her seem her apparent age, this one seemed very much human.
And just after he noticed that the seal had changed Luward's behavior toward Holo somewhat, there was the plop of a drop of water. Luward, too, noticed the sound, looking from the open palm of his hand up to the ceiling, as if rain had leaked in.
Lawrence shifted his gaze toward Holo.
That moment, still expressionless, a tear flowed down Holo's cheek as she opened her mouth.
"Claw..."
That single word was all Holo muttered to dubious faces from all those around.
Lawrence's gaze shifted toward Luward's chest.
Hanging down over it was what appeared to be a pitch-black bull horn.
Lawrence had thought it was merely the sort of lucky charm mercenaries used in the hopes of bringing courage and victory, but the sight of it had Holo rooted to the spot.
When the color of Luward Myuri's face changed upon hearing that word, he knew that it held some kind of deep meaning to Holo.
"You can tell this is a claw?"
Holo answered his brief question with a nod.
That instant, another tear fell down with a plop.
It was crying suited for a young maiden. These were certainly not tears of joy.
Lawrence interposed himself between Luward and Holo, embracing her by the shoulders.
And Luward turned, looking as if he was about to offer an apology but held it back instead.
"Inside."
With that single word, the mercenary company captain walked on ahead, brushing aside the merchant-like youth, who watched with no idea what just happened.
No one made a single word of protest.
Lawrence barely moved, either, but as Luward climbed the inner stairway, he finally turned and spoke.
"I have something to ask you."
Lawrence did not expect anything good.
But there was no way he could refuse.
Just as with noble houses, companies and organizations that stretched across many generations were seldom led by the oldest among them. Often, such individuals served the company or organization before their masters had even been born.
The Myuri Mercenary Company was no exception; the man they called their strategist was a large man with refined, wiry silver hair clipped short, with sideburns stretching all the way down to the fine beard over his chin.
"And I as well?"
With Luward returning to the room, there were likely reports on this matter and that. The strategist, who had been saying something to a youngster just outside the room, was surprised at being ordered to clear everyone out.
"That's right. No one is to enter this room or even the rooms above or below it."
Lawrence thought that Luward's tone of utter finality was a little arrogant, but he had heard that confusion regarding orders often resulted in the annihilation of entire units.


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

Input:
"Mm, indeed I am...what, you're from Delink?"
His hand still touching Holo's chin, he seemed to know he had assumed wrongly the instant he saw the red seal. He quickly pulled his hand back from Holo's chin, looking like a still-innocent youth.
"Ah, my mistake. I was sure you'd come selling. Ah, how rude of me. Certainly she's a bit too beautiful to be merchandise."
Though giving off a vulgar aura, the smile on his face seemed genuine. The smile he directed at Holo in apology for his rudeness held the calm peculiar to those who had seen conflicts between greedy souls to their bitter ends.
The captain of the Myuri Mercenary Company was a little taken aback that Holo's expression did not change at all, but he had surely faced many awkward situations, both in battle and in political bargaining. There were no cracks in his smile as he turned back to Lawrence.
"I am indeed Luward Myuri of the Myuri Mercenary Company. And you?"
As he named himself, the way he tossed back his cloak and put his hand on his hip was very mercenary-like. But to Lawrence's eyes, Luward Myuri was not at all older than he looked. Though Holo certainly had many parts to her that made her seem her apparent age, this one seemed very much human.
And just after he noticed that the seal had changed Luward's behavior toward Holo somewhat, there was the plop of a drop of water. Luward, too, noticed the sound, looking from the open palm of his hand up to the ceiling, as if rain had leaked in.
Lawrence shifted his gaze toward Holo.
That moment, still expressionless, a tear flowed down Holo's cheek as she opened her mouth.
"Claw..."
That single word was all Holo muttered to dubious faces from all those around.
Lawrence's gaze shifted toward Luward's chest.
Hanging down over it was what appeared to be a pitch-black bull horn.
Lawrence had thought it was merely the sort of lucky charm mercenaries used in the hopes of bringing courage and victory, but the sight of it had Holo rooted to the spot.
When the color of Luward Myuri's face changed upon hearing that word, he knew that it held some kind of deep meaning to Holo.
"You can tell this is a claw?"
Holo answered his brief question with a nod.
That instant, another tear fell down with a plop.
It was crying suited for a young maiden. These were certainly not tears of joy.
Lawrence interposed himself between Luward and Holo, embracing her by the shoulders.
And Luward turned, looking as if he was about to offer an apology but held it back instead.
"Inside."
With that single word, the mercenary company captain walked on ahead, brushing aside the merchant-like youth, who watched with no idea what just happened.
No one made a single word of protest.
Lawrence barely moved, either, but as Luward climbed the inner stairway, he finally turned and spoke.
"I have something to ask you."
Lawrence did not expect anything good.
But there was no way he could refuse.
Just as with noble houses, companies and organizations that stretched across many generations were seldom led by the oldest among them. Often, such individuals served the company or organization before their masters had even been born.
The Myuri Mercenary Company was no exception; the man they called their strategist was a large man with refined, wiry silver hair clipped short, with sideburns stretching all the way down to the fine beard over his chin.
"And I as well?"
With Luward returning to the room, there were likely reports on this matter and that. The strategist, who had been saying something to a youngster just outside the room, was surprised at being ordered to clear everyone out.
"That's right. No one is to enter this room or even the rooms above or below it."
Lawrence thought that Luward's tone of utter finality was a little arrogant, but he had heard that confusion regarding orders often resulted in the annihilation of entire units.

Output:
The room was overflowing with signs of an extended stay. Most were preparations for the road, but the bundles of papers and sheets of parchment were likely for engaging persons of influence in every land. What he found a little unexpected were several books of knightly legends. He had thought someone who made his living with real swords and shields would not read such things, but Luward noticed Lawrence's gaze, laughing as he sat in his chair and spoke.
"I can't be issuing commands while drinking wine, now can I? Heroic tales in books are just the thing to inspire courage and drive one's fears away."
This was indeed a leader in full command of his group.
"Now, then, let's get down to this, shall we?"
Trust in the speed with which one's subordinates carried out their duties made for a good master apparently.
Having barely sat down, Luward unhurriedly rose back up and opened a wooden shutter halfway, peering outside. Lawrence felt like the man had become a little nervous. Surely there would not be someone standing outside the window eavesdropping on them?
It was cold, but Luward did not close the window.
It seemed like he could not keep his nerves under control unless all was brought to light.
Lawrence held Holo's hand.
However, this was less to cheer Holo's spirits than to stop himself from drowning in his own tension.
"How did you know this is a claw?"
Luward put the necklace that looked like a black bull horn into his hand as he broached the subject. When he showed them the front and back, Lawrence understood that it had been severed in half.
As an ornament, it was large and crude, something one would think only a young man would wear. When Lawrence stretched his fingers straight out, it stretched from the tip of his middle finger to the palm of his hand. Those of high status did not favor such rustic ornaments. The higher class an ornament, the smaller it was.
"Scent."
Holo made a short reply.
Luward looked at her for a while before nodding.
"You don't look like an affluent merchant at first glance, but, ah, pardon me. But the Delink Company is stricter about acting in its self-interest than we are. Furthermore, you even have a letter of introduction from the famous shopkeeper Philon. Who in the world are you?"
It was a natural question.
Without taking a deep breath, Lawrence made ready to use the story he had put together in his head beforehand.
Holo's next sentence interrupted him. "Where did you get this?"
Lawrence immediately let go of Holo's hand.
The tone of her voice was frigid. He had let go, largely without meaning to, when he had realized that.
Until now, she had kept her head down, looking like a pathetic maiden truly brought here to be sold, crushed under the weight of her own circumstances.
But what was there now was anger.
Depending on the answer she got, there would be no mercy.
Of course, Luward did not falter in the face of such resolute anger.
"Are you asking as to the place?"
Many mercenary company captains were actual members of the nobility. It took a certain level of influence and money to assemble a band of rogues.
Some went from bandits to mercenaries, but Lawrence had often heard that in most cases, it was cabals of hired men bound together by money that became mercenaries.
In other words, Myuri probably had two things going for him.
The first was his bloodline. The second was that he was a leader who could keep rogues in check.
It was possible that faced with such obvious anger, even from a "little girl," he was simply too proud.
Lawrence considered saying something, but Holo was not ignorant of affairs in the human world. Surely she understood. Under the current circumstances, she just did not care.
"What's your objective?"
However, Luward did not lose his own temper. Rather, he turned his vigilant eyes toward Holo.
He turned toward not the Holo that Lawrence saw, but rather the slender nun she appeared to be.
He looked somewhat deflated.
"Answer me."
For a moment, Lawrence mistook who had spoken.


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

Input:
The room was overflowing with signs of an extended stay. Most were preparations for the road, but the bundles of papers and sheets of parchment were likely for engaging persons of influence in every land. What he found a little unexpected were several books of knightly legends. He had thought someone who made his living with real swords and shields would not read such things, but Luward noticed Lawrence's gaze, laughing as he sat in his chair and spoke.
"I can't be issuing commands while drinking wine, now can I? Heroic tales in books are just the thing to inspire courage and drive one's fears away."
This was indeed a leader in full command of his group.
"Now, then, let's get down to this, shall we?"
Trust in the speed with which one's subordinates carried out their duties made for a good master apparently.
Having barely sat down, Luward unhurriedly rose back up and opened a wooden shutter halfway, peering outside. Lawrence felt like the man had become a little nervous. Surely there would not be someone standing outside the window eavesdropping on them?
It was cold, but Luward did not close the window.
It seemed like he could not keep his nerves under control unless all was brought to light.
Lawrence held Holo's hand.
However, this was less to cheer Holo's spirits than to stop himself from drowning in his own tension.
"How did you know this is a claw?"
Luward put the necklace that looked like a black bull horn into his hand as he broached the subject. When he showed them the front and back, Lawrence understood that it had been severed in half.
As an ornament, it was large and crude, something one would think only a young man would wear. When Lawrence stretched his fingers straight out, it stretched from the tip of his middle finger to the palm of his hand. Those of high status did not favor such rustic ornaments. The higher class an ornament, the smaller it was.
"Scent."
Holo made a short reply.
Luward looked at her for a while before nodding.
"You don't look like an affluent merchant at first glance, but, ah, pardon me. But the Delink Company is stricter about acting in its self-interest than we are. Furthermore, you even have a letter of introduction from the famous shopkeeper Philon. Who in the world are you?"
It was a natural question.
Without taking a deep breath, Lawrence made ready to use the story he had put together in his head beforehand.
Holo's next sentence interrupted him. "Where did you get this?"
Lawrence immediately let go of Holo's hand.
The tone of her voice was frigid. He had let go, largely without meaning to, when he had realized that.
Until now, she had kept her head down, looking like a pathetic maiden truly brought here to be sold, crushed under the weight of her own circumstances.
But what was there now was anger.
Depending on the answer she got, there would be no mercy.
Of course, Luward did not falter in the face of such resolute anger.
"Are you asking as to the place?"
Many mercenary company captains were actual members of the nobility. It took a certain level of influence and money to assemble a band of rogues.
Some went from bandits to mercenaries, but Lawrence had often heard that in most cases, it was cabals of hired men bound together by money that became mercenaries.
In other words, Myuri probably had two things going for him.
The first was his bloodline. The second was that he was a leader who could keep rogues in check.
It was possible that faced with such obvious anger, even from a "little girl," he was simply too proud.
Lawrence considered saying something, but Holo was not ignorant of affairs in the human world. Surely she understood. Under the current circumstances, she just did not care.
"What's your objective?"
However, Luward did not lose his own temper. Rather, he turned his vigilant eyes toward Holo.
He turned toward not the Holo that Lawrence saw, but rather the slender nun she appeared to be.
He looked somewhat deflated.
"Answer me."
For a moment, Lawrence mistook who had spoken.

Output:
"That's my line." His sword was at Holo's throat. His swordsmanship was faster than a gale.
But Holo's slender neck was still attached. The reason was surely that Luward's temper was not that short.
So Lawrence thought, but the facts told a different tale.
"Answer me," Holo repeated herself.
Luward's sword tip distinctly quivered.
The girl who had shown his men her tears was now interrogating him heedless of his sword. It was Luward who was being overwhelmed.
No doubt that alone was bizarre to him. Furthermore, it seemed that what hung from Luward's neck was no mere decoration to him.
His other hand gripped the claw as he kept his eyes on Holo.
When Luward finally shifted his gaze to his own chest, it was as if two beasts had stared each other down, and he had lost.
"It seems there's been a misunderstanding. I did not seize this."
As if surrendering, Luward sheathed his sword, simultaneously fingering the cord fastened to the claw and lightly lifting it up.
This was not how the captain of a mercenary company acted toward a single maiden.
It was as if he knew what lay hidden under Holo's hood and reacted accordingly.
"I inherited this from my father."
Luward continued to speak. He paused there for a while, as if waiting to see if Holo wished to interrupt.
"And my father inherited it from his father."
Holo lifted her face up and looked at Luward.
"And what of the name Myuri?"
Lawrence felt like Luward's nostrils opened a little. He seemed both angry and surprised.
Reflexively, Lawrence tried to say something sensible. But in that place and time, it was he who was the outsider.
"It's all right. I'm not angry." Luward seemed to sense Lawrence's motion at the edge of his vision. He raised an open palm to Lawrence as he spoke.
Of course, his gaze remained turned toward Holo.
Luward stared at Holo as if he was searching for something in his memories.
And as if trying to pacify an angry wolf, he spoke with discretion and reverence.
"Might I ask what is your name?"
He answered her question with a question.
Usually it was something that drove Holo to anger, but in this place it held a different meaning.
The reverence Luward displayed toward Holo implicitly answered her question.
"Holo."
Her brief reply made Luward's eyebrows shoot all the way up. But what startled Lawrence was how Luward then bared his teeth and slapped his forehead.
"How can that be possible?!"
His volume was so great that the edges of the papers in the room shuddered. The voice was suitable for commanding and inspiring troops on the great steppes, and the shudder it caused went straight down to Lawrence's liver.
Holo, whose excellent ears should have made her sensitive to loud noises, did not even quiver.
It was as if a great boulder had fallen. Lawrence finally understood.
Luward Myuri was the real thing.
"Paro, Kiris, Yue, Inti, Shariemin."
Luward listed the names in succession. Lawrence remembered having heard them before.
Holo's expression strained. Her lips began to tremble.
Even Luward's face was contorted as if stained with tears. Voicelessly, her lips formed the words: I cannot believe it.
"...I heard them many times from my father."
The mercenary company captain slowly opened his mouth and murmured those words.
"I heard even more from my grandfather."
Luward approached Holo and took her small hand in his.
As Holo looked back at Luward, she lowered her hood.
When Lawrence had first heard the name of the Myuri Mercenary Company in the town of Lenos, he was distinctly jealous.
He had thought disagreeably of the existence of Myuri, who had lived in the same place in the same era as Holo, and for whom she felt strongly even now.
But there was nothing good that was born from jealousy. You would always regret what came from it, and this moment was no exception.
For a moment it seemed like Holo's ears would cause Luward to fall over, but his constitution endured; he was fit to be a mercenary.


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

Input:
"That's my line." His sword was at Holo's throat. His swordsmanship was faster than a gale.
But Holo's slender neck was still attached. The reason was surely that Luward's temper was not that short.
So Lawrence thought, but the facts told a different tale.
"Answer me," Holo repeated herself.
Luward's sword tip distinctly quivered.
The girl who had shown his men her tears was now interrogating him heedless of his sword. It was Luward who was being overwhelmed.
No doubt that alone was bizarre to him. Furthermore, it seemed that what hung from Luward's neck was no mere decoration to him.
His other hand gripped the claw as he kept his eyes on Holo.
When Luward finally shifted his gaze to his own chest, it was as if two beasts had stared each other down, and he had lost.
"It seems there's been a misunderstanding. I did not seize this."
As if surrendering, Luward sheathed his sword, simultaneously fingering the cord fastened to the claw and lightly lifting it up.
This was not how the captain of a mercenary company acted toward a single maiden.
It was as if he knew what lay hidden under Holo's hood and reacted accordingly.
"I inherited this from my father."
Luward continued to speak. He paused there for a while, as if waiting to see if Holo wished to interrupt.
"And my father inherited it from his father."
Holo lifted her face up and looked at Luward.
"And what of the name Myuri?"
Lawrence felt like Luward's nostrils opened a little. He seemed both angry and surprised.
Reflexively, Lawrence tried to say something sensible. But in that place and time, it was he who was the outsider.
"It's all right. I'm not angry." Luward seemed to sense Lawrence's motion at the edge of his vision. He raised an open palm to Lawrence as he spoke.
Of course, his gaze remained turned toward Holo.
Luward stared at Holo as if he was searching for something in his memories.
And as if trying to pacify an angry wolf, he spoke with discretion and reverence.
"Might I ask what is your name?"
He answered her question with a question.
Usually it was something that drove Holo to anger, but in this place it held a different meaning.
The reverence Luward displayed toward Holo implicitly answered her question.
"Holo."
Her brief reply made Luward's eyebrows shoot all the way up. But what startled Lawrence was how Luward then bared his teeth and slapped his forehead.
"How can that be possible?!"
His volume was so great that the edges of the papers in the room shuddered. The voice was suitable for commanding and inspiring troops on the great steppes, and the shudder it caused went straight down to Lawrence's liver.
Holo, whose excellent ears should have made her sensitive to loud noises, did not even quiver.
It was as if a great boulder had fallen. Lawrence finally understood.
Luward Myuri was the real thing.
"Paro, Kiris, Yue, Inti, Shariemin."
Luward listed the names in succession. Lawrence remembered having heard them before.
Holo's expression strained. Her lips began to tremble.
Even Luward's face was contorted as if stained with tears. Voicelessly, her lips formed the words: I cannot believe it.
"...I heard them many times from my father."
The mercenary company captain slowly opened his mouth and murmured those words.
"I heard even more from my grandfather."
Luward approached Holo and took her small hand in his.
As Holo looked back at Luward, she lowered her hood.
When Lawrence had first heard the name of the Myuri Mercenary Company in the town of Lenos, he was distinctly jealous.
He had thought disagreeably of the existence of Myuri, who had lived in the same place in the same era as Holo, and for whom she felt strongly even now.
But there was nothing good that was born from jealousy. You would always regret what came from it, and this moment was no exception.
For a moment it seemed like Holo's ears would cause Luward to fall over, but his constitution endured; he was fit to be a mercenary.

Output:
"The first captain received this when the mercenary company was founded."
Holo received the claw.
This exchange looked like the final delivery of a message that had been entrusted to them decades, even centuries ago, carried on possibilities as slender as a thread. Perhaps that was indeed very much the case.
As Holo continued to look down upon the claw she had received in her hands, Luward flipped it over atop Holo's palms. There were characters carved into it.
Lawrence could tell that the characters were very old, but nothing more.
However, it appeared Holo did understand them. In an instant, tears poured out.
"It says, 'It's been a while.'"
As she spoke, she cried, her shoulders shaking, and smiled.
She smiled, sobbed, wiped her tears away, and cried again.
Luward gently put his hands on Holo's shoulders, seemingly looking at Lawrence for the first time. It seemed that besides being a fine leader for a mercenary company, he was a fine gentleman as well.
He knew full well who should be crying and against whom.
Lawrence embraced Holo, and Holo cried even more in Lawrence's arms.
"Our Great Guardian Wolf, we have finally fulfilled our promise to you."
Luward spoke softly.
If the world contained the threads of many tales, the one concerning the Myuri Mercenary Company was now reaching its end.
***
Luward had rented a room for them that was very fine even by this inn's high standards.
That meant evicting the strategist from that room, but while his eyes widened at the captain's unusually strict command, his body seemed to react on its own regardless of what he thought.
Even though Lawrence had sought help carrying the luggage, he had not made Luward say, "It's a matter of life and death."
It seemed that Luward was a fine captain, undoubtedly worthy of bearing the name of Myuri.
All Lawrence could do was to say that to Holo to try and comfort her.
"Leave me be for a while."
Holo spoke curtly as she sniffed a tear away. In their travels thus far, such words had always triggered further strife that unnerved Lawrence even more. However, this time he was not unnerved whatsoever.
After all, she had been clinging to him and sobbing just moments earlier. She had relied on him in her moment of pain, and so long as the wave had passed, she need not stay at his side more than necessary. Holo could think and act on her own, after all; if she was putting her memories in order, all the better.
Lawrence wiped away moisture from the corner of Holo's eye with his thumb, and rather than giving her words of consolation, he told her where the water pitcher was.
"Don't go drinking wine now."
After all, if she split off and drank wine tonight, the results would be anything but joyful.
Holo's face, red from tears, formed into an awkward smile as she said, "Fool."
"I'll let you know if I'm leaving the inn."
Remembering things in Lenos, he hesitated a fair bit before giving Holo's body a light hug and standing up. Until Lawrence left the room, Holo stayed sitting right at the corner of the bed, watching him.
When Lawrence closed the door, he sighed, but not because he was concerned about Holo.
While the sad, smug message Myuri had left behind had come to its final conclusion, the tale of those living in the here and now still very much continued.
"Have a minute?"
Luward, at a stair landing a short distance from the room, pulled his back off the wall as he spoke.
When Lawrence nodded, he added, "Let's use my room," and went downstairs.
"As you like."
Though leader of a mercenary company where people killed and were killed, buying and selling prisoners in turn, he held the door open for Lawrence. Such odd jobs were properly the job of the youngster who was waiting at the side of the room. That is why the youngster was surprised twice over, once for his job being stolen and once that the captain was doing the job himself.
"It's all right, there's no need to be nervous."
Luward whispered something to the youngster before heading into the room.


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

Input:
"The first captain received this when the mercenary company was founded."
Holo received the claw.
This exchange looked like the final delivery of a message that had been entrusted to them decades, even centuries ago, carried on possibilities as slender as a thread. Perhaps that was indeed very much the case.
As Holo continued to look down upon the claw she had received in her hands, Luward flipped it over atop Holo's palms. There were characters carved into it.
Lawrence could tell that the characters were very old, but nothing more.
However, it appeared Holo did understand them. In an instant, tears poured out.
"It says, 'It's been a while.'"
As she spoke, she cried, her shoulders shaking, and smiled.
She smiled, sobbed, wiped her tears away, and cried again.
Luward gently put his hands on Holo's shoulders, seemingly looking at Lawrence for the first time. It seemed that besides being a fine leader for a mercenary company, he was a fine gentleman as well.
He knew full well who should be crying and against whom.
Lawrence embraced Holo, and Holo cried even more in Lawrence's arms.
"Our Great Guardian Wolf, we have finally fulfilled our promise to you."
Luward spoke softly.
If the world contained the threads of many tales, the one concerning the Myuri Mercenary Company was now reaching its end.
***
Luward had rented a room for them that was very fine even by this inn's high standards.
That meant evicting the strategist from that room, but while his eyes widened at the captain's unusually strict command, his body seemed to react on its own regardless of what he thought.
Even though Lawrence had sought help carrying the luggage, he had not made Luward say, "It's a matter of life and death."
It seemed that Luward was a fine captain, undoubtedly worthy of bearing the name of Myuri.
All Lawrence could do was to say that to Holo to try and comfort her.
"Leave me be for a while."
Holo spoke curtly as she sniffed a tear away. In their travels thus far, such words had always triggered further strife that unnerved Lawrence even more. However, this time he was not unnerved whatsoever.
After all, she had been clinging to him and sobbing just moments earlier. She had relied on him in her moment of pain, and so long as the wave had passed, she need not stay at his side more than necessary. Holo could think and act on her own, after all; if she was putting her memories in order, all the better.
Lawrence wiped away moisture from the corner of Holo's eye with his thumb, and rather than giving her words of consolation, he told her where the water pitcher was.
"Don't go drinking wine now."
After all, if she split off and drank wine tonight, the results would be anything but joyful.
Holo's face, red from tears, formed into an awkward smile as she said, "Fool."
"I'll let you know if I'm leaving the inn."
Remembering things in Lenos, he hesitated a fair bit before giving Holo's body a light hug and standing up. Until Lawrence left the room, Holo stayed sitting right at the corner of the bed, watching him.
When Lawrence closed the door, he sighed, but not because he was concerned about Holo.
While the sad, smug message Myuri had left behind had come to its final conclusion, the tale of those living in the here and now still very much continued.
"Have a minute?"
Luward, at a stair landing a short distance from the room, pulled his back off the wall as he spoke.
When Lawrence nodded, he added, "Let's use my room," and went downstairs.
"As you like."
Though leader of a mercenary company where people killed and were killed, buying and selling prisoners in turn, he held the door open for Lawrence. Such odd jobs were properly the job of the youngster who was waiting at the side of the room. That is why the youngster was surprised twice over, once for his job being stolen and once that the captain was doing the job himself.
"It's all right, there's no need to be nervous."
Luward whispered something to the youngster before heading into the room.

Output:
"I'm still shaking, too."
Those at the vanguard of battle surely could do absolutely nothing to avoid others seeing their hands shake. To go out of his way to show this to Lawrence meant he was showing as much respect as he possibly could.
To put it properly, respect toward Holo and to Lawrence, who had brought Holo.
"I haven't gotten your name yet."
Luward encouraged Lawrence to sit in a chair, seating himself as he spoke.
"Lawrence. Kraft Lawrence."
"Kraft Lawrence. A fine name. From the Polan region?"
From his shrewd speaking style, one would think he was much older than he looked. Lowering one's guard around such a man seemed very dangerous indeed.
"No, Rowen."
Luward nodded at that. Unsurprisingly, as a mercenary who had been to many battlefields, he knew the names of regions better than most traveling merchants.
"A Rowan merchant you say...so, you're in violation of orders by being in this city, are you not?"
So he knew the name of the Rowen Trade Guild. Moreover, he knew what kind of place the town of Lesko was in relation to the guild. The display of an unusual level of knowledge about the Rowen Trade Guild was both pleasing and frightening.
"That's right, so I'm no one at all here."
Lawrence noticed that Luward made a small sigh of relief when he spoke those words. As he tried to grasp its meaning, there was a knock on the door; the youngster from earlier entered. His hands carried a tray with wine jugs and rustic earthenware cups on it.
"Well, let's have a toast. If you're afraid of poison, I can drink both cups myself."
It was not a funny joke, but Lawrence laughed appropriately all the same, for when he approached to pick up his cup, he could tell that Luward was nervous.
Luward laughed as well, as if to hide a bit of embarrassment.
"To chance meetings and checkered fates."
As he spoke, Luward raised his cup to his lips.
Lawrence similarly brought his cup to his own lips and realized the wine was exceptional.
When he gazed down at his cup, at a loss for words, Luward looked like a satisfied host.
"I wish my father and grandfather could have been here, though."
After looking at the table for a while, seemingly searching for the words, Luward raised his face and these were the words he spoke.
"Even now I can't believe it. Far likelier you're some swindler playing an elaborate trick on me."
There was a smile on his face, but he was genuinely bewildered.
Lawrence thought to move the conversation forward somewhat more gently.
"I expected you might think as much."
Luward nodded at his frank reply. And after making an even larger nod, he cleared his throat.
"When one battles from morning till night, sometimes one treads on the boundary between this world and the next."
Lawrence did not think this some idle tale. Even Lawrence, an unbeliever, had seen the faces of long-dead fellow traders beside his wagon when rain fell on moonless nights.
"Whether by God or Death, many times something tells us when Doom lies just ahead. I'm aware such stories are especially numerous in our group. But many think that rather than God extending his hand to us, it is something...else. In other words..."
He sighed, wavering as to whether to say it or not as he gazed at the table.
Taking a deep breath, he seemed to decide that he should say it after all.
"In other words, that it has something to do with our banner."
Sewn onto the crimson banner on the wall was a wolf, howling toward the sky.
Many mercenary companies used animals as emblems. The wolf was popular, representing both power and knowledge.
Having been saved from a number of desperate situations by what he could only think was some force beyond human agency was surely why he did not recoil at the sight of Holo's wolf ears.
"I think it must be so. Or could it possibly be her doing...?"
"Holo, you mean?"
Luward stiffened a bit at Lawrence's reply.
"...Is it really all right to just call her that?"
From the way Luward glanced up at the ceiling, he did not seem to be joking.


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

Input:
"I'm still shaking, too."
Those at the vanguard of battle surely could do absolutely nothing to avoid others seeing their hands shake. To go out of his way to show this to Lawrence meant he was showing as much respect as he possibly could.
To put it properly, respect toward Holo and to Lawrence, who had brought Holo.
"I haven't gotten your name yet."
Luward encouraged Lawrence to sit in a chair, seating himself as he spoke.
"Lawrence. Kraft Lawrence."
"Kraft Lawrence. A fine name. From the Polan region?"
From his shrewd speaking style, one would think he was much older than he looked. Lowering one's guard around such a man seemed very dangerous indeed.
"No, Rowen."
Luward nodded at that. Unsurprisingly, as a mercenary who had been to many battlefields, he knew the names of regions better than most traveling merchants.
"A Rowan merchant you say...so, you're in violation of orders by being in this city, are you not?"
So he knew the name of the Rowen Trade Guild. Moreover, he knew what kind of place the town of Lesko was in relation to the guild. The display of an unusual level of knowledge about the Rowen Trade Guild was both pleasing and frightening.
"That's right, so I'm no one at all here."
Lawrence noticed that Luward made a small sigh of relief when he spoke those words. As he tried to grasp its meaning, there was a knock on the door; the youngster from earlier entered. His hands carried a tray with wine jugs and rustic earthenware cups on it.
"Well, let's have a toast. If you're afraid of poison, I can drink both cups myself."
It was not a funny joke, but Lawrence laughed appropriately all the same, for when he approached to pick up his cup, he could tell that Luward was nervous.
Luward laughed as well, as if to hide a bit of embarrassment.
"To chance meetings and checkered fates."
As he spoke, Luward raised his cup to his lips.
Lawrence similarly brought his cup to his own lips and realized the wine was exceptional.
When he gazed down at his cup, at a loss for words, Luward looked like a satisfied host.
"I wish my father and grandfather could have been here, though."
After looking at the table for a while, seemingly searching for the words, Luward raised his face and these were the words he spoke.
"Even now I can't believe it. Far likelier you're some swindler playing an elaborate trick on me."
There was a smile on his face, but he was genuinely bewildered.
Lawrence thought to move the conversation forward somewhat more gently.
"I expected you might think as much."
Luward nodded at his frank reply. And after making an even larger nod, he cleared his throat.
"When one battles from morning till night, sometimes one treads on the boundary between this world and the next."
Lawrence did not think this some idle tale. Even Lawrence, an unbeliever, had seen the faces of long-dead fellow traders beside his wagon when rain fell on moonless nights.
"Whether by God or Death, many times something tells us when Doom lies just ahead. I'm aware such stories are especially numerous in our group. But many think that rather than God extending his hand to us, it is something...else. In other words..."
He sighed, wavering as to whether to say it or not as he gazed at the table.
Taking a deep breath, he seemed to decide that he should say it after all.
"In other words, that it has something to do with our banner."
Sewn onto the crimson banner on the wall was a wolf, howling toward the sky.
Many mercenary companies used animals as emblems. The wolf was popular, representing both power and knowledge.
Having been saved from a number of desperate situations by what he could only think was some force beyond human agency was surely why he did not recoil at the sight of Holo's wolf ears.
"I think it must be so. Or could it possibly be her doing...?"
"Holo, you mean?"
Luward stiffened a bit at Lawrence's reply.
"...Is it really all right to just call her that?"
From the way Luward glanced up at the ceiling, he did not seem to be joking.

Output:
As Lawrence spoke, Luward raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat conflicted, and made a slow sigh. He chuckled a tooth-baring chuckle; then, he put his hand to his forehead and shook his head. "Maybe I have some of that blood running through me. I still hate being called captain."
Though certain it was meant as a mild joke, Lawrence's face stiffened a little at the talk of blood.
"Yeah, some of the men believe our ancestors were wolves, but my father and grandfather firmly denied it, to the point of anger even."
"Anger?"
"Yeah. Apparently our ancestor who founded the group met a certain wolf, and as they aided each other, they created a group. The wolf's name—was Myuri."
So that was indeed it.
Lawrence nodded as Luward continued to speak.
"But one side was aided much more than the other, it seems. Thus we came to pay a great deal of reverence toward wolves. That's why...yes. Our blankets must always be of the pelts of the fox or the deer, even though it adds to our expenses."
Luward made a seemingly deliberate shrug of his shoulders, only grudgingly accepting what was beyond his power to control in managing the company.
So the story was true. Lawrence had thought it might be something like that the first time he had heard of it.
"But it was easy to believe it was a made-up story to build a company around, like plenty of other legends."
Luward spoke while flicking the edge of his cup, slowly tilting it around.
"I've heard that as a matter of fact, people living a life of battle never knowing when it'll end rely on those stories to get them through the day more than anything else. I thought it was something like that, too."
The Rowen Trade Guild, which Lawrence belonged to, had its own founding myths, something providing a firm foundation everyone could stand on no matter from which people they hailed from or where, no matter what town or village they were born in.
"And to think...it's true."
Luward took in a deep breath and exhaled.
With an exhausted-looking smile, he raised his downcast gaze and looked at Lawrence.
"There are many tales passed down to me from generation to generation. Prominent even among them is that of Wisewolf Holo. That should we ever encounter her, we must convey the message engraved upon the claw."
Lawrence looked up at the ceiling a bit, lost in thought.
There had not been any special meaning to it, but it was necessary to lay the groundwork.
"She'd been in a village far from here for centuries. But she forgot the way home and was unable to return. So I am seeing her there."
"Seeing her there?" Luward's manner of asking seemed to hold some deeper meaning.
He wondered what this was all about, but he noticed the strained smile mixed with Luward's words.
He had, after all, seen when Holo clung to him as she cried her eyes out.
"I am guiding her there."
Luward cheerfully bared his teeth as Lawrence rephrased. "This is what makes the world interesting. You don't know what's going to happen or who you're going to meet. But that's why there's always something to worry about."
He turned his sharp eyes upon Lawrence. His gaze was animated with greater amity than before, while brimming with resolute will that would not yield come what may.
Turning rapidly, the focus of Luward's thinking shifted from fantastic tales to blunt realities and what could be done about them. The words made Lawrence's body grow tense.
"Let me ask you frankly. Did you come here to destroy the Debau Company?"
Lawrence had thought about the possibility when he had first heard of the existence of the Myuri Mercenary Company and again when he and Holo had arrived at the town of Lesko.
As Lawrence had thought such questions would not be long in coming, he had come prepared with several answers. Depending upon his opponent's attitude, he had intended to say, with a strong spirit, that if not destroy, they meant to give it a hard time.
However, here before Luward's eyes, thoughts of such mischief were driven deep into his chest.


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

Input:
As Lawrence spoke, Luward raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat conflicted, and made a slow sigh. He chuckled a tooth-baring chuckle; then, he put his hand to his forehead and shook his head. "Maybe I have some of that blood running through me. I still hate being called captain."
Though certain it was meant as a mild joke, Lawrence's face stiffened a little at the talk of blood.
"Yeah, some of the men believe our ancestors were wolves, but my father and grandfather firmly denied it, to the point of anger even."
"Anger?"
"Yeah. Apparently our ancestor who founded the group met a certain wolf, and as they aided each other, they created a group. The wolf's name—was Myuri."
So that was indeed it.
Lawrence nodded as Luward continued to speak.
"But one side was aided much more than the other, it seems. Thus we came to pay a great deal of reverence toward wolves. That's why...yes. Our blankets must always be of the pelts of the fox or the deer, even though it adds to our expenses."
Luward made a seemingly deliberate shrug of his shoulders, only grudgingly accepting what was beyond his power to control in managing the company.
So the story was true. Lawrence had thought it might be something like that the first time he had heard of it.
"But it was easy to believe it was a made-up story to build a company around, like plenty of other legends."
Luward spoke while flicking the edge of his cup, slowly tilting it around.
"I've heard that as a matter of fact, people living a life of battle never knowing when it'll end rely on those stories to get them through the day more than anything else. I thought it was something like that, too."
The Rowen Trade Guild, which Lawrence belonged to, had its own founding myths, something providing a firm foundation everyone could stand on no matter from which people they hailed from or where, no matter what town or village they were born in.
"And to think...it's true."
Luward took in a deep breath and exhaled.
With an exhausted-looking smile, he raised his downcast gaze and looked at Lawrence.
"There are many tales passed down to me from generation to generation. Prominent even among them is that of Wisewolf Holo. That should we ever encounter her, we must convey the message engraved upon the claw."
Lawrence looked up at the ceiling a bit, lost in thought.
There had not been any special meaning to it, but it was necessary to lay the groundwork.
"She'd been in a village far from here for centuries. But she forgot the way home and was unable to return. So I am seeing her there."
"Seeing her there?" Luward's manner of asking seemed to hold some deeper meaning.
He wondered what this was all about, but he noticed the strained smile mixed with Luward's words.
He had, after all, seen when Holo clung to him as she cried her eyes out.
"I am guiding her there."
Luward cheerfully bared his teeth as Lawrence rephrased. "This is what makes the world interesting. You don't know what's going to happen or who you're going to meet. But that's why there's always something to worry about."
He turned his sharp eyes upon Lawrence. His gaze was animated with greater amity than before, while brimming with resolute will that would not yield come what may.
Turning rapidly, the focus of Luward's thinking shifted from fantastic tales to blunt realities and what could be done about them. The words made Lawrence's body grow tense.
"Let me ask you frankly. Did you come here to destroy the Debau Company?"
Lawrence had thought about the possibility when he had first heard of the existence of the Myuri Mercenary Company and again when he and Holo had arrived at the town of Lesko.
As Lawrence had thought such questions would not be long in coming, he had come prepared with several answers. Depending upon his opponent's attitude, he had intended to say, with a strong spirit, that if not destroy, they meant to give it a hard time.
However, here before Luward's eyes, thoughts of such mischief were driven deep into his chest.

Output:
"No. Nor do I think it is possible."
Luward, veteran of many fields of battle, nodded without a sound.
Thinking his words insufficient, Lawrence sipped from his cup and added to them.
"But we are certainly concerned about Yoitsu."
Silence continued for several moments longer. The leader of the mercenary company finally nodded.
"I see."
As he replied curtly, he took a breath deep enough that his shoulders rose.
That he stayed like that for a time might have been to clear away the tension that had built up in his throat.
"...Mm, I see..." He sighed as he spoke, awkwardly running a hand through his short-cropped, spiky hair, seemingly without realizing it.
It was like the worn-out feeling one had when a job was wrapped up.
Luward had truly been concerned about what Lawrence and Holo would say.
"If all it took was saying something like 'Lend us your strength to destroy the Debau Company,' our journey might have gone a little more smoothly," said Lawrence.
They hid Holo's true nature out of fear for the Church, sometimes dealing with ancient beings that had already melted into life in the towns, sometimes clashing with the realities of those earnestly seeking to survive in the present age.
To bare one's fangs, advancing on whatever path one wished, showing no mercy to whoever interferes—such a belligerent advance was a journey with no future.
"If I can say one thing for the honor of my men..." Luward brushed his short-cropped hair back a bit as he spoke. "For the sake of our company banner, we face even the most desperate battles with all our might. No one runs away, not until the last drop of blood of the battle is shed."
He gave those words the resounding crescendo treatment because that was what people needed to hear. People such as the strategist and youngster who might well be eavesdropping on them from the next room over.
"But that is why orders are such a frightening thing."
Luward fixed his eyes upon Lawrence as he spoke.
In that time and place, there was of course only one possible meaning.
"So if Holo and I asked for it, the Myuri Mercenary Company would risk their lives fighting for us..."
"That is correct."
Truth and facade, pride and vanity.
This was the first time that Lawrence thought of the man called Luward as a trading partner.
"I'm sure Holo has thought along the same lines as well. However, we've learned on the course of our journey that there are many things in this world we cannot do—meeting friends from the distant past, for instance."
He dared not change it into the form of a question.
Even so, Luward seemed to understand what Lawrence's words were getting at and took in a fairly deep breath.
That breath did not turn into words. He shook his head side to side, saying nothing.
Luward did not know where Myuri was. Nor, from his face, did he know whether Myuri was even alive.
"...However, there is something else that I would like to ask here, in Holo's place."
"If Yoitsu is safe?"
When he had first met Holo, no matter which travelers' inn he asked in, the name of the place produced but vague memories, making him wonder if it truly existed in this world. Even now, with someone completely unrelated giving an instant answer with a serious face, he wondered.
It felt strange for dream to turn into reality like this.
Lawrence did not get here simply by having his wagon pulled by a horse. He had overcome many obstacles so that he could reach this point, holding hands together with Holo.
Life made such things possible.
"As a matter of fact, it is safe." Luward raised his face as he spoke. "As a matter of fact, it is safe."
Perhaps he thought Holo's ears would hear.
"It is said even murmurs at a great distance do not escape Holo the Wisewolf."
"Barring the worst of circumstances, I think that's largely correct."
Luward's laugh made him look younger than his proper age. The way he raised his voice without smiling gave him the aura of a beast.
"But that means you haven't gone to Yoitsu yet?"


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

Input:
"No. Nor do I think it is possible."
Luward, veteran of many fields of battle, nodded without a sound.
Thinking his words insufficient, Lawrence sipped from his cup and added to them.
"But we are certainly concerned about Yoitsu."
Silence continued for several moments longer. The leader of the mercenary company finally nodded.
"I see."
As he replied curtly, he took a breath deep enough that his shoulders rose.
That he stayed like that for a time might have been to clear away the tension that had built up in his throat.
"...Mm, I see..." He sighed as he spoke, awkwardly running a hand through his short-cropped, spiky hair, seemingly without realizing it.
It was like the worn-out feeling one had when a job was wrapped up.
Luward had truly been concerned about what Lawrence and Holo would say.
"If all it took was saying something like 'Lend us your strength to destroy the Debau Company,' our journey might have gone a little more smoothly," said Lawrence.
They hid Holo's true nature out of fear for the Church, sometimes dealing with ancient beings that had already melted into life in the towns, sometimes clashing with the realities of those earnestly seeking to survive in the present age.
To bare one's fangs, advancing on whatever path one wished, showing no mercy to whoever interferes—such a belligerent advance was a journey with no future.
"If I can say one thing for the honor of my men..." Luward brushed his short-cropped hair back a bit as he spoke. "For the sake of our company banner, we face even the most desperate battles with all our might. No one runs away, not until the last drop of blood of the battle is shed."
He gave those words the resounding crescendo treatment because that was what people needed to hear. People such as the strategist and youngster who might well be eavesdropping on them from the next room over.
"But that is why orders are such a frightening thing."
Luward fixed his eyes upon Lawrence as he spoke.
In that time and place, there was of course only one possible meaning.
"So if Holo and I asked for it, the Myuri Mercenary Company would risk their lives fighting for us..."
"That is correct."
Truth and facade, pride and vanity.
This was the first time that Lawrence thought of the man called Luward as a trading partner.
"I'm sure Holo has thought along the same lines as well. However, we've learned on the course of our journey that there are many things in this world we cannot do—meeting friends from the distant past, for instance."
He dared not change it into the form of a question.
Even so, Luward seemed to understand what Lawrence's words were getting at and took in a fairly deep breath.
That breath did not turn into words. He shook his head side to side, saying nothing.
Luward did not know where Myuri was. Nor, from his face, did he know whether Myuri was even alive.
"...However, there is something else that I would like to ask here, in Holo's place."
"If Yoitsu is safe?"
When he had first met Holo, no matter which travelers' inn he asked in, the name of the place produced but vague memories, making him wonder if it truly existed in this world. Even now, with someone completely unrelated giving an instant answer with a serious face, he wondered.
It felt strange for dream to turn into reality like this.
Lawrence did not get here simply by having his wagon pulled by a horse. He had overcome many obstacles so that he could reach this point, holding hands together with Holo.
Life made such things possible.
"As a matter of fact, it is safe." Luward raised his face as he spoke. "As a matter of fact, it is safe."
Perhaps he thought Holo's ears would hear.
"It is said even murmurs at a great distance do not escape Holo the Wisewolf."
"Barring the worst of circumstances, I think that's largely correct."
Luward's laugh made him look younger than his proper age. The way he raised his voice without smiling gave him the aura of a beast.
"But that means you haven't gone to Yoitsu yet?"

Output:
"Mm, I see. People come first. On that point, I'm sorry I only bear the name of Myuri."
As Lawrence said in a fluster, "That's all right," Luward made a wry smile. "I jest.
"Yoitsu's safe. Right now it's one part of a region called Tolkien. Even within that area, people don't really go in or out; it's a closed forest."
He wondered if Holo really was listening in the room overhead.
If she was, she was surely curled up in a ball like a cat, scratching the bedding with her claws.
"But in the time before we arrived here, we heard plenty of ill rumors about the Debau Company, enough to make us think of hiring someone of your lofty caliber to deploy."
The mercenary company captain first interjected that "Just Leward is fine," in a quiet voice, before continuing. "The Debau Company is trying to conquer the whole of the northlands. The Debau Company is trying to tear up all the northlands for precious metals. The Debau Company is...like that, you mean."
"Indeed."
Luward nodded, making a small sigh.
"But when you actually arrived in town, there wasn't a single trace of war. The town's full of activity, the merchants are diligently making money, and so forth."
As he gazed out of the shutters as he spoke, Lawrence once again replied, "Indeed."
"There's probably few who've come to this town who thought otherwise."
Lawrence was the exception, but did not interrupt.
"There's talk of war. There's talk of dangerous dealings. That place is finally gonna get it, and so forth.
"Anyway, dangerous talk like this has been spreading among dangerous people—like us—since, oh, autumn of last year. A while after that, people who believed and people who didn't started gathering here in twos and threes. Once the Great Northern Campaign was canceled, people who didn't find other work and had nowhere else to go came here...and got caught up in a strange situation."
The mercenary, who surely had to be doggedly realistic, used the word strange.
That fact truly was strange.
"The Debau Company offered us lodging. Food, too."
"Wha—?"
Lawrence looked all around. When he finally returned his gaze to Luward, the man nodded firmly.
"It's the same for pretty much all the other mercenary companies. It got us excited. If they're being this generous, the war's for real, we all said."
Merchants absolutely did not do futile things. If they paid money, there was some scheme afoot. To say nothing of giving peacetime-hating mercenaries a warm welcome; even a child could predict a fierce conflict.
"Anyway, this situation's continued for us for two weeks now; for the group that's been here the longest, two months. Can you believe it? They say the Debau Company's currently paying out twenty lumione gold pieces per day to maintain us here. And yet—" Luward cut off his words and walked to the shelf. Then, he pulled out one of the bundles of parchment and tossed it atop the table.
Lawrence did not grasp the contents, but based on the structure, these looked like contract forms.
"These are documents for swearing oaths to the Debau Company. 'Under your patronage, we shall be thy sword and thy shield...,' and so forth. Normally, we exchange these documents for gold, hire some men with it, fill our bellies with meat and wine, get drunk, and sally forth to the battlefield. But the Debau Company wouldn't accept these."
"Wouldn't accept?"
Lawrence could not understand it, either. Expediency was prized in war. If one dillydallied in making preparations, their opponent was preparing, while their expenses were climbing and their men's morale was dropping. All the more so if one was providing food and lodging to every lout who showed up; surely as the numbers climbed, it was imperative to take command and begin proper military operations.
Luward sighed and gazed out the window once more. He seemed sad that there was not a battlefield right outside.


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

Input:
"Mm, I see. People come first. On that point, I'm sorry I only bear the name of Myuri."
As Lawrence said in a fluster, "That's all right," Luward made a wry smile. "I jest.
"Yoitsu's safe. Right now it's one part of a region called Tolkien. Even within that area, people don't really go in or out; it's a closed forest."
He wondered if Holo really was listening in the room overhead.
If she was, she was surely curled up in a ball like a cat, scratching the bedding with her claws.
"But in the time before we arrived here, we heard plenty of ill rumors about the Debau Company, enough to make us think of hiring someone of your lofty caliber to deploy."
The mercenary company captain first interjected that "Just Leward is fine," in a quiet voice, before continuing. "The Debau Company is trying to conquer the whole of the northlands. The Debau Company is trying to tear up all the northlands for precious metals. The Debau Company is...like that, you mean."
"Indeed."
Luward nodded, making a small sigh.
"But when you actually arrived in town, there wasn't a single trace of war. The town's full of activity, the merchants are diligently making money, and so forth."
As he gazed out of the shutters as he spoke, Lawrence once again replied, "Indeed."
"There's probably few who've come to this town who thought otherwise."
Lawrence was the exception, but did not interrupt.
"There's talk of war. There's talk of dangerous dealings. That place is finally gonna get it, and so forth.
"Anyway, dangerous talk like this has been spreading among dangerous people—like us—since, oh, autumn of last year. A while after that, people who believed and people who didn't started gathering here in twos and threes. Once the Great Northern Campaign was canceled, people who didn't find other work and had nowhere else to go came here...and got caught up in a strange situation."
The mercenary, who surely had to be doggedly realistic, used the word strange.
That fact truly was strange.
"The Debau Company offered us lodging. Food, too."
"Wha—?"
Lawrence looked all around. When he finally returned his gaze to Luward, the man nodded firmly.
"It's the same for pretty much all the other mercenary companies. It got us excited. If they're being this generous, the war's for real, we all said."
Merchants absolutely did not do futile things. If they paid money, there was some scheme afoot. To say nothing of giving peacetime-hating mercenaries a warm welcome; even a child could predict a fierce conflict.
"Anyway, this situation's continued for us for two weeks now; for the group that's been here the longest, two months. Can you believe it? They say the Debau Company's currently paying out twenty lumione gold pieces per day to maintain us here. And yet—" Luward cut off his words and walked to the shelf. Then, he pulled out one of the bundles of parchment and tossed it atop the table.
Lawrence did not grasp the contents, but based on the structure, these looked like contract forms.
"These are documents for swearing oaths to the Debau Company. 'Under your patronage, we shall be thy sword and thy shield...,' and so forth. Normally, we exchange these documents for gold, hire some men with it, fill our bellies with meat and wine, get drunk, and sally forth to the battlefield. But the Debau Company wouldn't accept these."
"Wouldn't accept?"
Lawrence could not understand it, either. Expediency was prized in war. If one dillydallied in making preparations, their opponent was preparing, while their expenses were climbing and their men's morale was dropping. All the more so if one was providing food and lodging to every lout who showed up; surely as the numbers climbed, it was imperative to take command and begin proper military operations.
Luward sighed and gazed out the window once more. He seemed sad that there was not a battlefield right outside.

Output:
"There's talk among the nobles that they're dragging the decision out while feeding the soldiers to garrison the town with more troops than they can possibly support. That's possible, too, and in fact, we are eating for free. The Debau Company isn't deciding where to invade, isn't positioning military forces, and all we have to worry about day to day is deciding what to pick from the menu."
It was a long speech, surely because Luward himself was annoyed at the situation. Lawrence had the feeling he was much more at home stretched and exhausted fighting around the world than spending his days in idleness.
"So, Yoitsu is safe. Though 'for now' is all I can really say."
"I see your point..."
"However..." Luward narrowed his eyes as he paused mid-sentence.
It felt like he was pondering whether it was better to say this or not, finally deciding it was best to say it.
Clearing his throat, restraining his voice, he continued.
"The Debau Company is unusually clever. Right now, to a greater or lesser extent, the people assembled in Lesko have connections to the northlands. Among them are those, like you, who think of the northlands as most precious. We are no exception to that."
As he spoke, Luward walked toward a map stretched across a wall.
That map of the northlands looked like an enlarged version of the one they had received from Fran. That probably meant the map they asked Fran for was accurate and, moreover, that the larger map was more detailed.
Luward put his finger on one spot on the map. There was Tolkien. Its old name, Yoitsu.
"We're thinking of taking position here. However, we're not foolish enough to subjugate our own homeland, especially now that we know Holo the Wisewolf truly exists."
He said it in jest, but it was difficult to claim he was completely joking.
Just from what little Luward knew of Holo from legend, Holo was absolutely not one who should be angered. He had to eliminate even the possibility of a misunderstanding.
"...To defend it, then?"
Luward nodded. So he had been minded to do battle with the Debau Company. Lawrence had thought of it as well, but a mercenary company's leader had to live even more realistically than a merchant.
"In a sense. That's to say, there are a number of paths in Tolkien used by hunters and hermits that stretch into the Sverner region to the northeast. If there is war, the Sverner outskirts are geographically and politically significant, so it'll definitely get mixed up in the fighting. If the people there run, part of them will follow those paths straight to Tolkien. We intend to put a stop to that."
"...And therefore, the slave-trading Delink Company."
As Lawrence muttered to himself, Luward nodded.
"Yes. Every village there is barely scraping by. There'll be wounded soldiers, of course, but most following those paths will be fleeing civilians. The moment they arrive, those villages are finished. We were to capture them as slaves, protect the villages, and make money off it, too. The Delink Company's legendary for good clientele, so add prisoners for ransom and we'd be fat on a bit of treasure and refinements by the time we got home."
Lawrence did not know if it would go exactly as described, but he felt that Luward's way of thinking was indeed much like a merchant's.
"The Debau Company's been extremely proactive in heading us off from that kind of plan."
"Meaning?"
"It seems they're assigning jobs, taking into account people not wanting to tear up their homelands."
"But it's not possible for them to put everyone in defensive roles like that?"
As Lawrence asked his question, Luward pursed his lips and looked at Lawrence for a while. He resembled a master watching a prized apprentice make a simple mistake.
"For better or worse, the Debau Company is a mine operator. And not everyone thinks mine development is a calamity."
"Ah."


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

Input:
"There's talk among the nobles that they're dragging the decision out while feeding the soldiers to garrison the town with more troops than they can possibly support. That's possible, too, and in fact, we are eating for free. The Debau Company isn't deciding where to invade, isn't positioning military forces, and all we have to worry about day to day is deciding what to pick from the menu."
It was a long speech, surely because Luward himself was annoyed at the situation. Lawrence had the feeling he was much more at home stretched and exhausted fighting around the world than spending his days in idleness.
"So, Yoitsu is safe. Though 'for now' is all I can really say."
"I see your point..."
"However..." Luward narrowed his eyes as he paused mid-sentence.
It felt like he was pondering whether it was better to say this or not, finally deciding it was best to say it.
Clearing his throat, restraining his voice, he continued.
"The Debau Company is unusually clever. Right now, to a greater or lesser extent, the people assembled in Lesko have connections to the northlands. Among them are those, like you, who think of the northlands as most precious. We are no exception to that."
As he spoke, Luward walked toward a map stretched across a wall.
That map of the northlands looked like an enlarged version of the one they had received from Fran. That probably meant the map they asked Fran for was accurate and, moreover, that the larger map was more detailed.
Luward put his finger on one spot on the map. There was Tolkien. Its old name, Yoitsu.
"We're thinking of taking position here. However, we're not foolish enough to subjugate our own homeland, especially now that we know Holo the Wisewolf truly exists."
He said it in jest, but it was difficult to claim he was completely joking.
Just from what little Luward knew of Holo from legend, Holo was absolutely not one who should be angered. He had to eliminate even the possibility of a misunderstanding.
"...To defend it, then?"
Luward nodded. So he had been minded to do battle with the Debau Company. Lawrence had thought of it as well, but a mercenary company's leader had to live even more realistically than a merchant.
"In a sense. That's to say, there are a number of paths in Tolkien used by hunters and hermits that stretch into the Sverner region to the northeast. If there is war, the Sverner outskirts are geographically and politically significant, so it'll definitely get mixed up in the fighting. If the people there run, part of them will follow those paths straight to Tolkien. We intend to put a stop to that."
"...And therefore, the slave-trading Delink Company."
As Lawrence muttered to himself, Luward nodded.
"Yes. Every village there is barely scraping by. There'll be wounded soldiers, of course, but most following those paths will be fleeing civilians. The moment they arrive, those villages are finished. We were to capture them as slaves, protect the villages, and make money off it, too. The Delink Company's legendary for good clientele, so add prisoners for ransom and we'd be fat on a bit of treasure and refinements by the time we got home."
Lawrence did not know if it would go exactly as described, but he felt that Luward's way of thinking was indeed much like a merchant's.
"The Debau Company's been extremely proactive in heading us off from that kind of plan."
"Meaning?"
"It seems they're assigning jobs, taking into account people not wanting to tear up their homelands."
"But it's not possible for them to put everyone in defensive roles like that?"
As Lawrence asked his question, Luward pursed his lips and looked at Lawrence for a while. He resembled a master watching a prized apprentice make a simple mistake.
"For better or worse, the Debau Company is a mine operator. And not everyone thinks mine development is a calamity."
"Ah."

Output:
In the first place, the motive for employing mercenaries, supplementing one's military forces aside, was primarily so that they would bear all the hatred of the people in the lands being invaded.
That being the case, one should act in line with aspirations of the land from the beginning. By assembling a wide enough variety of impoverished mercenaries from a variety of lands, bearing the burdens of their lances day by day, one could position himself to respond to the hopes of any land in sight.
That is what Lawrence thought, but Luward's face showed considerable skepticism once again.
"In the end it's all rumor. People think of all kinds of things when they have time on their hands."
He brought his hands together in a light clap, as if to rub them against each other, showing his palms as if to say, "All right, that's enough."
When Lawrence thought calmly about it, what Luward had presented while explaining this and that were largely his personal opinions.
However, no doubt this was less trying to impose his views on Lawrence and closer to talking about everything he could think out. That was probably out of fear of Holo. Lawrence felt like a fox leaning on the might of the wolf, but Luward being cooperative was by no means a bad thing.
Lawrence rose from his seat and extended a handshake as he spoke his thanks.
"I'm sure Holo is thankful as well."
Luward gripped Lawrence's hand in return while replying, "Too bad I can't solve all your problems, though." Surely that could only have been the case if God had placed everyone in the world purely for Lawrence and Holo's benefit.
But Lawrence knew too much of the world to think that way.
"Life is too long for every problem to have a simple solution."
"Ha-ha. How true."
As Luward spoke, he poured more wine into Lawrence's cup.
"Well, that's how it is. I'm still happy I fulfilled the promise in my father and grandfather's places. Not for that reason, but by all means, I wish to ease the strains of your travels. By the way, the Debau Company's paying for this, too."
Lawrence drank the fine wine poured into his cup without restraint.
The next day, Holo's mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment she awoke.
Perhaps because she had slept from crying and exhaustion the day before without waiting for the sun to set, she had woken during the night and could not have slept much since.
Luward, who did not live the carefree life of a guest as much as he claimed, said that there was an occasion that night he could not miss, so instead of inviting Lawrence and Holo to dinner, he had an extravagant meal brought up to their room. Wheat bread. Chicken roasted with spice. Thick soup with quail. Grilled venison with beef stew. Carp served with vegetables. And after the main course, pudding and raisins, with dried raspberries. The drinks ran the gamut from beer to wine to distilled liquor. He did not think the Debau Company was paying for all this; Luward must have paid for it himself to show his respect toward Holo.
However, Holo only ate half as much as she usually did.
He thought that she might wake from a nap, drawn to delicious, high-end cuisine even if it was cold, and she would be back to her old self, but it was not to be. She did wait for Lawrence to rise, greeting him briefly, but nothing went beyond eating some bread and lightly moistening her lips with wine.
Aghast at the thought of returning a plate with such an abundance of food on it, Lawrence filled his belly with as much as it could take. He took what food could be preserved and stuffed it with the rest of the luggage. Even so, when a youngster came to take the plate down, there was enough left to quietly hand the youngster some as well.
But the good thing was, even if she was forcing it, Holo smiled at Lawrence several times.
And even though Holo still looked fragile enough she might crack and crumble to pieces, if she would only gently draw near and close, Lawrence would have been perfectly happy with nothing more.