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

Input:
"Yes. I have a bit to discuss."
"Mm...if he is not in his room...and he's not. Pardon me for a moment."
Opening the door, Moizi urged Lawrence inside; in short order, Moizi came back into the room with a water jug in his hand.
And even though he was in front of the desk, he poured the water down atop his own head, shaking his head like a dog.
"Whew! My goodness. I don't want to get any older if that's all it takes to get me drunk."
"It seems to have been quite the celebration."
"Ha-ha. How embarrassing. I do have the excuse that one knows not when one will perish, so one must drink to the fullest."
So enjoy every drink as if it is one's last.
Certainly that was an excuse anywhere on earth for warding off admonitions against heavy drinking.
"Now, then, the young master."
When he combed his hand back along his head, his silver hair stuck up like needles.
Such vigor at his age—no doubt, when he was younger, he had truly been a wolf or a bear of a mercenary.
"Yes. Do you know where he might be?"
"He's probably with Rebonato...Ah, that's the name of the head of the Hugo Mercenary Company. I think he's probably there, but...the young master and other heads of companies travel in different circles than the membership. I don't know what liquor he was invited to drink or where he got himself drunk."
As befitted a frank, forthright mercenary, he left it at that. Besides, it seemed those that managed groups indeed traveled in their own special circles.
"As it seems you are in a hurry, I can get the youngster moving, but..."
Moizi's words silenced Lawrence for several seconds.
Sensing his hesitation, Moizi slipped out of words suited to a man of battle and into others. "Perhaps I can be of assistance?" This was the old, practical strategist managing a mercenary company. Normally, for Moizi to send for the head of the company, there had to be a rather good reason.
"Of course, it's no problem at all. I am merely a little concerned that he will feel responsible for being drunk and asleep at a critical time if I speak of this to you first."
Perhaps it was too harsh a thing to say to Moizi, who seemed to still have liquor left in him.
That concern flew out the window in an instant.
"I'll send the youngster running. It won't be long."
Moizi strode past Lawrence into the corridor.
He yelled "Messenger!" in a great voice that seemingly threatened to bring the whole building down.
Blessed by an omniscient and omnipotent God, lords ruled their lands by divine right, and knights swore fealty to those lords. It was God that determined what the lord, his earthly representative, did and desired for his lands. And so, at times, even forests that had stood unmolested until now and vast steppes across the land suddenly cried out as they became charred, barren wastes.
The fate of this town was in the grasp of the Debau Company, a lord without a face.
A faction holding contrary views, having launched an internal rebellion and succeeded, was an exceedingly serious matter to those mercenaries entrusting their very lives to the company.
"My word." Luward had wobbled back to the inn, pulled along by the hands of two youngsters, as if a pair of younger brothers were pulling their beloved older brother along. He washed and wiped his face with a hand towel and lifted up his face. "How certain is this information?"
Like the cog of a waterwheel, the direction Luward's troop would advance shifted depending on the information they obtained. At that moment, they so feared being led astray by a mistaken report.
Lawrence and Holo might skirt by with moderate damage, but for Luward and his men, their fates quite literally depended on it.
"Does the name Hilde Schnau ring a bell?"
As Lawrence spoke, Luward looked at Moizi.
Moizi replied in his place. "The treasurer of the Debau Company. He is said to be the owner's right-hand man."
"If Holo's ears are correct, he is, as he claimed to be, this Hilde Schnau."

Output:
"One of my comrades has heard talk of dealings with the Debau Company going bad, that some kind of internal conflict seemed to be taking place," said Luward.
One of the youngsters moved to sensibly take the towel away, but Luward wiped his face once more and tilted his head.
"Issuing the new currency is vital business. And no doubt the profit's enough to make your head spin. So, we joked that they're done using us so they're not giving us the time of day anymore, but..."
"It seems the owner and most of his faction have already been confined within the company."
Lawrence's words did not change Luward or Moizi's expressions one bit. No doubt he would have elicited more of a reaction if he had told them the daily price of bread had fallen.
"They got greedy."
Luward saw right through it in an instant.
"Fools. Wearing a bear's hide doesn't make you a bear. They think they can behave like the lords of the south just because they made a lot of money? These are the northlands, forsaken by even the Church. They don't see they've confused the ends and the means. Thinking that all you have to do is attack and the war ends just like that is why the lords here are mocked as bumpkins."
On the map spread across the wall, there were a number of narrow-looking, slender roads that cut between the mountains. If it were the plains of Ploania to the south, such narrow roads would not even appear on a map.
However, these were the main thoroughfares of the northlands; they were vital but tenuous lifelines that connected the hollows of the mountains to a portion of the deep forests that had been cut open.
Such roads could lead to a unit on the advance passing through very constrained places along the way; for their part, merchants were fearful of their lines of communication with one another being cut off.
"And? Is that all that the treasurer had to say to you, Mr. Lawrence?"
Surely Luward was thinking of other comrades who he should inform of these matters, and also, where the flames of war would spring should they erupt.
As Luward silently stared at the map stretched over the wall, Moizi asked in his place.
"No. He seeks cooperation to regain internal control of the Debau Company."
Luward turned toward him. "Cooperation."
In war, who was friend and who was foe was a matter of life and death.
"As a practical matter, this means only handing over an object we obtained in Lenos that will further his plan, but..."
"Mmm."
The aged, bearded soldier tugged at his chin, while Luward folded his arms and lifted his own chin.
"Mr. Lawrence, you came across some kind of treasure on some adventure?"
"It was somewhat related to a business deal—a forbidden book, which contains techniques for mine excavation."
The expressions of the two mercenaries did not change from this, either. It seemed their faces betrayed less the more important the information that was before them.
They truly believed that no matter how unnatural it might feel, the moment one lost discipline is the moment one failed.
"Holo and I wanted the forbidden book to occupy the bookshelf of some dilettante in the south for all time, so we cooperated with a book merchant. Right now, that book merchant is headed to the town of Kieschen, far to the south, with an acquaintance of ours."
"Kieschen. That's nearly a week's travel, even with a fast horse."
Moizi nodded to confirm what Luward seemingly said to himself.
"Last night, the luggage of our acquaintance, one which ought to be with the book merchant far from here, was tossed right before our eyes. It seems they took it so that they could speak to us. The request for cooperation from Mr. Hilde was on top of that."
"Among our comrades, that method for requesting cooperation is respectfully referred to as 'extortion,'" said Luward.
"Yes. However, Mr. Hilde seems to have arranged it to demonstrate that he is determined, to the death if need be."
Knowing Holo's true form, Luward said with a nod, "I see," and then raised his face.


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

Input:
"One of my comrades has heard talk of dealings with the Debau Company going bad, that some kind of internal conflict seemed to be taking place," said Luward.
One of the youngsters moved to sensibly take the towel away, but Luward wiped his face once more and tilted his head.
"Issuing the new currency is vital business. And no doubt the profit's enough to make your head spin. So, we joked that they're done using us so they're not giving us the time of day anymore, but..."
"It seems the owner and most of his faction have already been confined within the company."
Lawrence's words did not change Luward or Moizi's expressions one bit. No doubt he would have elicited more of a reaction if he had told them the daily price of bread had fallen.
"They got greedy."
Luward saw right through it in an instant.
"Fools. Wearing a bear's hide doesn't make you a bear. They think they can behave like the lords of the south just because they made a lot of money? These are the northlands, forsaken by even the Church. They don't see they've confused the ends and the means. Thinking that all you have to do is attack and the war ends just like that is why the lords here are mocked as bumpkins."
On the map spread across the wall, there were a number of narrow-looking, slender roads that cut between the mountains. If it were the plains of Ploania to the south, such narrow roads would not even appear on a map.
However, these were the main thoroughfares of the northlands; they were vital but tenuous lifelines that connected the hollows of the mountains to a portion of the deep forests that had been cut open.
Such roads could lead to a unit on the advance passing through very constrained places along the way; for their part, merchants were fearful of their lines of communication with one another being cut off.
"And? Is that all that the treasurer had to say to you, Mr. Lawrence?"
Surely Luward was thinking of other comrades who he should inform of these matters, and also, where the flames of war would spring should they erupt.
As Luward silently stared at the map stretched over the wall, Moizi asked in his place.
"No. He seeks cooperation to regain internal control of the Debau Company."
Luward turned toward him. "Cooperation."
In war, who was friend and who was foe was a matter of life and death.
"As a practical matter, this means only handing over an object we obtained in Lenos that will further his plan, but..."
"Mmm."
The aged, bearded soldier tugged at his chin, while Luward folded his arms and lifted his own chin.
"Mr. Lawrence, you came across some kind of treasure on some adventure?"
"It was somewhat related to a business deal—a forbidden book, which contains techniques for mine excavation."
The expressions of the two mercenaries did not change from this, either. It seemed their faces betrayed less the more important the information that was before them.
They truly believed that no matter how unnatural it might feel, the moment one lost discipline is the moment one failed.
"Holo and I wanted the forbidden book to occupy the bookshelf of some dilettante in the south for all time, so we cooperated with a book merchant. Right now, that book merchant is headed to the town of Kieschen, far to the south, with an acquaintance of ours."
"Kieschen. That's nearly a week's travel, even with a fast horse."
Moizi nodded to confirm what Luward seemingly said to himself.
"Last night, the luggage of our acquaintance, one which ought to be with the book merchant far from here, was tossed right before our eyes. It seems they took it so that they could speak to us. The request for cooperation from Mr. Hilde was on top of that."
"Among our comrades, that method for requesting cooperation is respectfully referred to as 'extortion,'" said Luward.
"Yes. However, Mr. Hilde seems to have arranged it to demonstrate that he is determined, to the death if need be."
Knowing Holo's true form, Luward said with a nod, "I see," and then raised his face.

Output:
"Not human."
He could trust Luward. When Lawrence nodded briefly, Luward's lack of expression did not falter. After a pause, all he muttered was, "I—I see..."
"And so, we have agreed to cooperate with Mr. Hilde."
As Lawrence declared it was so, Luward's gaze did not climb or any such thing. Instead, he gazed at a bare spot on top of the table, as if putting a plan in order in his head.
"Or rather, only to hand the forbidden book over. Tonight we will inform him as much."
"What are his chances of victory?" Luward asked straightforwardly.
It was refreshingly pragmatic.
"He has a chance. That is as far as I will go."
The larger the affair, the more difficult it was to stop the flames of avarice once they had been set ablaze.
Now that the company had begun issuing its own currency and facing off against the landowners by itself, he did not know how much they could resist, regardless of how influential they were within the company.
After all, this was a matter of profit.
Speaking of dreams would of course be seen as trying to spoil things with small-minded logic.
If one was dealing with men with swords on their hips, they would rebuke with a simple Silence! and have their faithful subordinates slice a person into ribbons as a matter of course.
"In other words, you are telling us to run, Mr. Lawrence?"
As the waterwheel turned the cog, the pestle would soon fall.
Luward had no doubt worked out in his own head that something similar was coming here.
Lawrence nodded.
"I am. If Mr. Hilde fails to persuade them, I think we shall be endangered ourselves. I am nimble, and I have someone who will protect me. However, you...require time when altering the route of your advance."
The word retreat was the word most associated with dishonor among mercenaries.
"Mmm. Certainly, changing the route of one's advance takes time. But retreat takes even more time." Luward grinned and laughed. "We're a hardheaded, stubborn bunch, after all."
Lawrence meant to carefully pick his words; Luward seemed especially fond of them.
"Altering the course of your advance, eh...?" Luward repeated to himself with a small smile. "I've seen what happens when you try to drench a blaze with cold water. Have you seen a refinery, Mr. Lawrence?"
When asked, Lawrence replied that he had not.
Of course, he had seen a number of factories with furnaces within towns, but what Luward was referring to was a huge furnace made by gouging out the slope of a hill.
"You have five or six people working, using bellows to pump air into a furnace taller than a siege engine. The coal makes a sound like the breath of a demon as it burns. If you toss water onto it, you don't put the fire out; rather, the flames swell up like an explosion."
It seemed that with anything, the results could be reversed if the situation was extreme enough.
"I'm sure they're painfully aware of what they'll need to do to realize their ambitions. Right now, they're all hot and excited. I credit the courage of someone who'd dare pour water over them. But the cost of failure is high."
Luward looked up at the ceiling and said, "Boom," before continuing. "Understood. Mr. Lawrence, thank you. I won't make you have to convince me. After all, I was planning to leave the town behind anyway. This just speeds things up a bit. There's still plenty of booze left in this world that I haven't gotten to drink, after all. This is no time to dawdle around."
He sounded like Holo when he said that. Perhaps being born close to Yoitsu was responsible for his love of drink.
Luward firmly gripped Lawrence's hand. "I'll leave a few good men behind. When it's time to run, use them. We'll be waiting on the road that goes to Yoitsu. From there, we know plenty of paths leading east."
So even now, he intended to lead them to Yoitsu.
Mercenaries had a strong sense of duty.


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

Input:
"Not human."
He could trust Luward. When Lawrence nodded briefly, Luward's lack of expression did not falter. After a pause, all he muttered was, "I—I see..."
"And so, we have agreed to cooperate with Mr. Hilde."
As Lawrence declared it was so, Luward's gaze did not climb or any such thing. Instead, he gazed at a bare spot on top of the table, as if putting a plan in order in his head.
"Or rather, only to hand the forbidden book over. Tonight we will inform him as much."
"What are his chances of victory?" Luward asked straightforwardly.
It was refreshingly pragmatic.
"He has a chance. That is as far as I will go."
The larger the affair, the more difficult it was to stop the flames of avarice once they had been set ablaze.
Now that the company had begun issuing its own currency and facing off against the landowners by itself, he did not know how much they could resist, regardless of how influential they were within the company.
After all, this was a matter of profit.
Speaking of dreams would of course be seen as trying to spoil things with small-minded logic.
If one was dealing with men with swords on their hips, they would rebuke with a simple Silence! and have their faithful subordinates slice a person into ribbons as a matter of course.
"In other words, you are telling us to run, Mr. Lawrence?"
As the waterwheel turned the cog, the pestle would soon fall.
Luward had no doubt worked out in his own head that something similar was coming here.
Lawrence nodded.
"I am. If Mr. Hilde fails to persuade them, I think we shall be endangered ourselves. I am nimble, and I have someone who will protect me. However, you...require time when altering the route of your advance."
The word retreat was the word most associated with dishonor among mercenaries.
"Mmm. Certainly, changing the route of one's advance takes time. But retreat takes even more time." Luward grinned and laughed. "We're a hardheaded, stubborn bunch, after all."
Lawrence meant to carefully pick his words; Luward seemed especially fond of them.
"Altering the course of your advance, eh...?" Luward repeated to himself with a small smile. "I've seen what happens when you try to drench a blaze with cold water. Have you seen a refinery, Mr. Lawrence?"
When asked, Lawrence replied that he had not.
Of course, he had seen a number of factories with furnaces within towns, but what Luward was referring to was a huge furnace made by gouging out the slope of a hill.
"You have five or six people working, using bellows to pump air into a furnace taller than a siege engine. The coal makes a sound like the breath of a demon as it burns. If you toss water onto it, you don't put the fire out; rather, the flames swell up like an explosion."
It seemed that with anything, the results could be reversed if the situation was extreme enough.
"I'm sure they're painfully aware of what they'll need to do to realize their ambitions. Right now, they're all hot and excited. I credit the courage of someone who'd dare pour water over them. But the cost of failure is high."
Luward looked up at the ceiling and said, "Boom," before continuing. "Understood. Mr. Lawrence, thank you. I won't make you have to convince me. After all, I was planning to leave the town behind anyway. This just speeds things up a bit. There's still plenty of booze left in this world that I haven't gotten to drink, after all. This is no time to dawdle around."
He sounded like Holo when he said that. Perhaps being born close to Yoitsu was responsible for his love of drink.
Luward firmly gripped Lawrence's hand. "I'll leave a few good men behind. When it's time to run, use them. We'll be waiting on the road that goes to Yoitsu. From there, we know plenty of paths leading east."
So even now, he intended to lead them to Yoitsu.
Mercenaries had a strong sense of duty.

Output:
"Two days' worth at best."
"Immediately provision five days' worth to bring that to seven days. Don't sell gold coins. Buy everything with silver."
With silver trenni linked to the new currency's sudden price jump, logically its own price would climb along as well. That being the case, the value of gold coins would invariably drop greatly relative to silver coins, making buying anything with gold coins look like a fool's errand.
Luward could make that calculation in an instant.
He was indeed no mere war enthusiast.
Lawrence even found himself thinking that if Luward ever retired from mercenary work, perhaps they could do business together.
"Tomorrow morning, during the mist of dawn, the Myuri Mercenary Company shall alter the course of its advance." The corner of Luward's lip curled up wryly at the last part.
Moizi cracked a smile, replied, "Understood," and straightened his back.
Lawrence had ensured the safety of the mercenary company that bore the name of a companion from Holo's homeland. If by some chance Hilde should fail to persuade the others, it was highly likely that his links to Holo and Lawrence would come to light even as displays of modesty turned into bloodbaths. Apparently, sometimes a perfectly healthy pig was slaughtered in sight of enemy troops as a means of intimidation. No doubt using mercenaries would cause men of small influence to shake in their boots.
"Then, you should be next." Thanks to having cried so much, Holo's face looked puffy and unhappy.
However, she was properly snuggled against Lawrence's side as she gnawed on some bread.
Certainly her attitude remained defiant, but her displeased expression looked like it was hiding a blush.
Lawrence suddenly found the face rather adorable.
"Nn, ah, ahh...?"
Holo looked at him with a dubious, questioning look when she caught him seeming to see right through her.
"I wonder what we ought do about the store?" And after a short pause, she continued, "I know not whether that hare can manage to carry this off, but...you have said yourself, nothing good comes from leaving what is precious to you in a perilous place."
He recalled when they had spoken about how easy it was to fall into tragedy when one had something to protect.
Certainly, if Hilde's counterattack did falter, setting up a store in this town would be a dangerous gamble. In any case, Holo was well aware that a store was not a cheaply bought thing.
She was truly concerned about him.
"However, you have paid money for it, yes? It is the store of your dreams...and you are rather greedy when it comes to money, after all..."
Her words of concern had an abusive tone.
This side of Holo brought an unintentional strained smile to Lawrence's face.
However, it was not that he was unhappy.
"As the money goes, I only paid the deposit."
Sitting on the bed as they were, the usual difference in their height was lessened.
He gave a straight answer to Holo's probing eyes.
"I'll have to sell, of course."
If he sold it and Hilde succeeded in persuading his comrades, surely conditions would be favorable for buying a store or two; if Hilde failed, he could only run with his tail between his legs. And should Hilde's mouth falter, even if Lawrence and Holo remained in the town, he doubted very much that the town would retain its radiance once plunged into a war. At any rate, battle often gave rise to more battle. If that happened, it would be foolish to keep precious merchandise in a town without walls.
It was said that an ancient, legendary king had waged three hundred battles without having a single scar inflicted upon him. However, Lawrence's heart was unconvinced that the town of Lesko would walk the same glorious path as that king.
If indeed the lords that had invested in this town's buildings were not opposed to war, that had to mean that they were fully confident of success. Success brought about the intoxicating feeling that one could do anything one wished.


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

Input:
"Two days' worth at best."
"Immediately provision five days' worth to bring that to seven days. Don't sell gold coins. Buy everything with silver."
With silver trenni linked to the new currency's sudden price jump, logically its own price would climb along as well. That being the case, the value of gold coins would invariably drop greatly relative to silver coins, making buying anything with gold coins look like a fool's errand.
Luward could make that calculation in an instant.
He was indeed no mere war enthusiast.
Lawrence even found himself thinking that if Luward ever retired from mercenary work, perhaps they could do business together.
"Tomorrow morning, during the mist of dawn, the Myuri Mercenary Company shall alter the course of its advance." The corner of Luward's lip curled up wryly at the last part.
Moizi cracked a smile, replied, "Understood," and straightened his back.
Lawrence had ensured the safety of the mercenary company that bore the name of a companion from Holo's homeland. If by some chance Hilde should fail to persuade the others, it was highly likely that his links to Holo and Lawrence would come to light even as displays of modesty turned into bloodbaths. Apparently, sometimes a perfectly healthy pig was slaughtered in sight of enemy troops as a means of intimidation. No doubt using mercenaries would cause men of small influence to shake in their boots.
"Then, you should be next." Thanks to having cried so much, Holo's face looked puffy and unhappy.
However, she was properly snuggled against Lawrence's side as she gnawed on some bread.
Certainly her attitude remained defiant, but her displeased expression looked like it was hiding a blush.
Lawrence suddenly found the face rather adorable.
"Nn, ah, ahh...?"
Holo looked at him with a dubious, questioning look when she caught him seeming to see right through her.
"I wonder what we ought do about the store?" And after a short pause, she continued, "I know not whether that hare can manage to carry this off, but...you have said yourself, nothing good comes from leaving what is precious to you in a perilous place."
He recalled when they had spoken about how easy it was to fall into tragedy when one had something to protect.
Certainly, if Hilde's counterattack did falter, setting up a store in this town would be a dangerous gamble. In any case, Holo was well aware that a store was not a cheaply bought thing.
She was truly concerned about him.
"However, you have paid money for it, yes? It is the store of your dreams...and you are rather greedy when it comes to money, after all..."
Her words of concern had an abusive tone.
This side of Holo brought an unintentional strained smile to Lawrence's face.
However, it was not that he was unhappy.
"As the money goes, I only paid the deposit."
Sitting on the bed as they were, the usual difference in their height was lessened.
He gave a straight answer to Holo's probing eyes.
"I'll have to sell, of course."
If he sold it and Hilde succeeded in persuading his comrades, surely conditions would be favorable for buying a store or two; if Hilde failed, he could only run with his tail between his legs. And should Hilde's mouth falter, even if Lawrence and Holo remained in the town, he doubted very much that the town would retain its radiance once plunged into a war. At any rate, battle often gave rise to more battle. If that happened, it would be foolish to keep precious merchandise in a town without walls.
It was said that an ancient, legendary king had waged three hundred battles without having a single scar inflicted upon him. However, Lawrence's heart was unconvinced that the town of Lesko would walk the same glorious path as that king.
If indeed the lords that had invested in this town's buildings were not opposed to war, that had to mean that they were fully confident of success. Success brought about the intoxicating feeling that one could do anything one wished.

Output:
The important thing was, since failure would cost Lawrence everything, it was not a gamble that he ought to throw in on.
Besides, when Holo decided Lawrence should buy a store in this town, she resolved to not be concerned with whatever happened to the northlands. So, he should resolve to not cry over a store or two.
That's what Lawrence thought, and that's what he needed to do.
"Although..."
"Mm?"
As Lawrence spoke, Holo looked straight at him.
"Selling a store before even opening...it's an odd feeling," he said.
Lawrence had thought for sure it was the beginning of his adventures as a town merchant. If that had been so, here in the town of Lesko he would have been caught up in the advance of a story that none such as him could do anything to oppose.
All he could have done was hand over merchandise as demanded and then arrange his baggage and take refuge.
But rather than despondent or miserable, he felt closer to disappointed.
"I think 'tis a shame about the store as well. However, you know well enough what happens to those who are prisoners of the past, do you not?"
That was what Holo said in response. It was rare for her to be so self-effacing.
Holo had been buffeted all over the place by her past. So learning from her life's lessons, Lawrence should immediately wash his hands of setting up a store in such a dangerous place and put his hopes into the next place.
Even he understood that.
Even so, Holo's words left him a bit dumbfounded but for an entirely different reason.
"That may be so, but..."
"...So what is it, then?"
As Lawrence asked, he put Holo's head in his hands and slowly stroked it.
Holo seemed annoyed as she tried to brush his hand away, but he ignored her and stroked her again.
Her dexterous tail was making brushing sounds on top of the bed, so she was not genuinely upset.
Lawrence proceeded to embrace Holo's body, as though to ensure she would never get away from him again.
"But sometimes being trapped by the past brings people together."
Lawrence remembered when Holo snuck onto his horse-drawn wagon's wagon bed on a moonlit night.
"I wish to return to Yoitsu," the wolf had said.
But for that one phrase, Lawrence surely would have never come to a place like this.
"Fool. Fate does not repeat itself over and over." Holo finally brushed Lawrence's hand away as she spoke.
It was so.
And the reverse was also true.
"I'm sure the hard times will end right about here, in fact."
As Lawrence spoke, Holo snickered.
Lawrence rested his chin atop Holo's head, and Holo's tail swished a single dramatic swish.
The evening that Lawrence easily concluded the sale of the store, Hilde appeared at the inn at night, right on schedule.
This time he was in the form of a hare from the beginning, so there was no clothing hanging over his back.
With meat flying off the shelves during the celebration, hopping around town as a hare carried a higher risk of death than walking in the forest.
"May I ask what your decision is?"
Hilde, who appeared thinner than he had the night before, spoke with a voice that seemed more parched than broken up.
He looked like someone who had desperately and near the point of death exhausted all options inside the company.
Were he to tell a future chronicler of his experiences, this would have been the most powerful section.
To Hilde, sitting atop the chair and seeming very unharelike, Lawrence replied for both of them.
"We will hand over the forbidden book."
Lawrence's words shot through Hilde's small body like an arrow.
***
Hilde's red eyes continued to stare at Lawrence for a while as if he was unable to speak.
Not even his long ears twitched.
It was enough to make Lawrence wonder if he had fainted.


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

Input:
The important thing was, since failure would cost Lawrence everything, it was not a gamble that he ought to throw in on.
Besides, when Holo decided Lawrence should buy a store in this town, she resolved to not be concerned with whatever happened to the northlands. So, he should resolve to not cry over a store or two.
That's what Lawrence thought, and that's what he needed to do.
"Although..."
"Mm?"
As Lawrence spoke, Holo looked straight at him.
"Selling a store before even opening...it's an odd feeling," he said.
Lawrence had thought for sure it was the beginning of his adventures as a town merchant. If that had been so, here in the town of Lesko he would have been caught up in the advance of a story that none such as him could do anything to oppose.
All he could have done was hand over merchandise as demanded and then arrange his baggage and take refuge.
But rather than despondent or miserable, he felt closer to disappointed.
"I think 'tis a shame about the store as well. However, you know well enough what happens to those who are prisoners of the past, do you not?"
That was what Holo said in response. It was rare for her to be so self-effacing.
Holo had been buffeted all over the place by her past. So learning from her life's lessons, Lawrence should immediately wash his hands of setting up a store in such a dangerous place and put his hopes into the next place.
Even he understood that.
Even so, Holo's words left him a bit dumbfounded but for an entirely different reason.
"That may be so, but..."
"...So what is it, then?"
As Lawrence asked, he put Holo's head in his hands and slowly stroked it.
Holo seemed annoyed as she tried to brush his hand away, but he ignored her and stroked her again.
Her dexterous tail was making brushing sounds on top of the bed, so she was not genuinely upset.
Lawrence proceeded to embrace Holo's body, as though to ensure she would never get away from him again.
"But sometimes being trapped by the past brings people together."
Lawrence remembered when Holo snuck onto his horse-drawn wagon's wagon bed on a moonlit night.
"I wish to return to Yoitsu," the wolf had said.
But for that one phrase, Lawrence surely would have never come to a place like this.
"Fool. Fate does not repeat itself over and over." Holo finally brushed Lawrence's hand away as she spoke.
It was so.
And the reverse was also true.
"I'm sure the hard times will end right about here, in fact."
As Lawrence spoke, Holo snickered.
Lawrence rested his chin atop Holo's head, and Holo's tail swished a single dramatic swish.
The evening that Lawrence easily concluded the sale of the store, Hilde appeared at the inn at night, right on schedule.
This time he was in the form of a hare from the beginning, so there was no clothing hanging over his back.
With meat flying off the shelves during the celebration, hopping around town as a hare carried a higher risk of death than walking in the forest.
"May I ask what your decision is?"
Hilde, who appeared thinner than he had the night before, spoke with a voice that seemed more parched than broken up.
He looked like someone who had desperately and near the point of death exhausted all options inside the company.
Were he to tell a future chronicler of his experiences, this would have been the most powerful section.
To Hilde, sitting atop the chair and seeming very unharelike, Lawrence replied for both of them.
"We will hand over the forbidden book."
Lawrence's words shot through Hilde's small body like an arrow.
***
Hilde's red eyes continued to stare at Lawrence for a while as if he was unable to speak.
Not even his long ears twitched.
It was enough to make Lawrence wonder if he had fainted.

Output:
If Lawrence and Holo's decision could rescue them amid all that, Lawrence was glad for that alone, all the more so because it was in their own best interests. When Hilde was finished taking a deep breath that seemed unsuited to his small body, he made what Lawrence thought to be a smile.
"Thank you very much."
Hilde spoke as if he had found a single ray of light in the depths of hell.
Even so, it did not mean all was resolved that very moment.
After all, preceding the issue of Hilde succeeding in persuading the rebels was the practical matter of getting the forbidden book in hand.
"We have no objection to handing over the book. However, the book merchant on his way to purchase the forbidden book does not follow the same creed that we do."
Probably, whichever way the northlands went was all the same to Le Roi the book merchant. To him, the forbidden book's existence and meaning to the northlands were merely a means to the end of securing Lawrence and Holo's cooperation.
In other words, Le Roi was not one to be moved by tearful pleas.
"I have money." The hare in charge of the Debau Company's accounts spoke without the slightest pause.
"How much?"
"I can pay three hundred gold lumione. I left them in a hideaway of mine in town."
There was no need to check with Holo whether his words were true or false.
For the treasurer of a mining company that led the lords of the region around by the nose, that was surely not a difficult sum to amass. Perhaps the head of Debau had given Hilde the money for special circumstances.
When a deposed royal family was restored to power once more, there were always excellent subordinates who had brought them gold bullion in exile. Those who failed to prepare for when they fell rarely rose again.
"That is probably far more than is needed. But there is one thing that concerns me."
"What is it?"
Even though he was a hare, his pronunciation was so elegant it almost turned Lawrence's stomach.
Lawrence thought that the only reason he could deal with Hilde as an equal was because he was in the form of a hare.
He had not seen the face of the man under the hood, but he had no doubt it was a face full of confidence.
"In the event that you fail to persuade the rebels or that the forbidden book becomes fundamentally unnecessary..." As he spoke the latter half, the tone of his voice changed as if to impart deeper meaning to it.
As Hilde looked Lawrence over, Holo looked up at Lawrence much the same way. Should the northlands be laid to waste because of the techniques in the book, Holo would feel partly responsible, Lawrence imagined. Therefore, they had to leave as much room for them to maneuver as possible.
"Yes. If I fail to convince them, I do not mind if you take the forbidden book back by force. Should it no longer be necessary, I will return it in secret."
"—!" Holo sucked in her breath at Hilde's words.
Lawrence replied, "Thank you very much."
Whether the forbidden book rested with the Debau Company or not mattered a great deal to Holo's sense of guilt.
That pledge was worth a thousand pieces of gold.
"Then, there is the matter of going all the way to Kieschen to procure the book."
"The book merchant is sly and wary and possesses a strong sense of duty as well. One might say he is the worst kind of man to profit from as a lender," said Lawrence.
Hilde gave a firm nod.
Those red eyes were not the eyes of a fool who, when falling into a predicament, could only beg others for aid.
"Resorting to documents is too roundabout. I desire a quick decision and a quick resolution. Regardless, there is no time. Right now, the factions within the Debau Company are still arguing between each other. However, numerous lords with stakes involved are particularly obstinate, behaving as if this is a dispute over a family fortune."
"So, you are saying they could take control in the blink of an eye?"
"Yes. No matter how absurd it may be, they are magnificent at getting their way."


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

Input:
If Lawrence and Holo's decision could rescue them amid all that, Lawrence was glad for that alone, all the more so because it was in their own best interests. When Hilde was finished taking a deep breath that seemed unsuited to his small body, he made what Lawrence thought to be a smile.
"Thank you very much."
Hilde spoke as if he had found a single ray of light in the depths of hell.
Even so, it did not mean all was resolved that very moment.
After all, preceding the issue of Hilde succeeding in persuading the rebels was the practical matter of getting the forbidden book in hand.
"We have no objection to handing over the book. However, the book merchant on his way to purchase the forbidden book does not follow the same creed that we do."
Probably, whichever way the northlands went was all the same to Le Roi the book merchant. To him, the forbidden book's existence and meaning to the northlands were merely a means to the end of securing Lawrence and Holo's cooperation.
In other words, Le Roi was not one to be moved by tearful pleas.
"I have money." The hare in charge of the Debau Company's accounts spoke without the slightest pause.
"How much?"
"I can pay three hundred gold lumione. I left them in a hideaway of mine in town."
There was no need to check with Holo whether his words were true or false.
For the treasurer of a mining company that led the lords of the region around by the nose, that was surely not a difficult sum to amass. Perhaps the head of Debau had given Hilde the money for special circumstances.
When a deposed royal family was restored to power once more, there were always excellent subordinates who had brought them gold bullion in exile. Those who failed to prepare for when they fell rarely rose again.
"That is probably far more than is needed. But there is one thing that concerns me."
"What is it?"
Even though he was a hare, his pronunciation was so elegant it almost turned Lawrence's stomach.
Lawrence thought that the only reason he could deal with Hilde as an equal was because he was in the form of a hare.
He had not seen the face of the man under the hood, but he had no doubt it was a face full of confidence.
"In the event that you fail to persuade the rebels or that the forbidden book becomes fundamentally unnecessary..." As he spoke the latter half, the tone of his voice changed as if to impart deeper meaning to it.
As Hilde looked Lawrence over, Holo looked up at Lawrence much the same way. Should the northlands be laid to waste because of the techniques in the book, Holo would feel partly responsible, Lawrence imagined. Therefore, they had to leave as much room for them to maneuver as possible.
"Yes. If I fail to convince them, I do not mind if you take the forbidden book back by force. Should it no longer be necessary, I will return it in secret."
"—!" Holo sucked in her breath at Hilde's words.
Lawrence replied, "Thank you very much."
Whether the forbidden book rested with the Debau Company or not mattered a great deal to Holo's sense of guilt.
That pledge was worth a thousand pieces of gold.
"Then, there is the matter of going all the way to Kieschen to procure the book."
"The book merchant is sly and wary and possesses a strong sense of duty as well. One might say he is the worst kind of man to profit from as a lender," said Lawrence.
Hilde gave a firm nod.
Those red eyes were not the eyes of a fool who, when falling into a predicament, could only beg others for aid.
"Resorting to documents is too roundabout. I desire a quick decision and a quick resolution. Regardless, there is no time. Right now, the factions within the Debau Company are still arguing between each other. However, numerous lords with stakes involved are particularly obstinate, behaving as if this is a dispute over a family fortune."
"So, you are saying they could take control in the blink of an eye?"
"Yes. No matter how absurd it may be, they are magnificent at getting their way."

Output:
Seizing control of a company by force was light morning exercise to them.
"I have a bird companion. His wings are the fastest, but...what he can carry is roughly limited to that sack."
So it seemed that bird had taken Col's carrying sack. It was not so rare, when eating a meal in the plains, to have one's food stolen by a bird swooping down. Col's situation was merely an extension of that.
"So, I would like Miss Holo to go."
Hilde finally looked at Holo as he spoke.
Holo, her legs dangling over the bed, made what seemed like a small sigh.
"I am a substitute for a bird?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Just because one could take human form did not mean one was huge and wielded enormous might. That was true for Hilde before them; it was also true for the bird exhausting all efforts on Hilde's behalf.
"I mind not. Besides, 'tis good to run in my true form once in a while," said Holo as she got up from the bed.
Hilde lowered and raised his head, as if nodding in recognition of a trustworthy comrade's point of view. "How long would Miss Holo's feet take to bring her there?"
"Who knows? I know not the distance to the city."
Hilde's face scowled slightly. Right now, what was most precious to Hilde was neither money nor weapons. It was time.
Lawrence provided a lifeboat. "How much farther is it from Lenos to Kieschen than from here to Lenos?"
Hilde's long ears stretched instantly. He raised his head. "By fast horse, messages take twice as long as from here to Lenos."
"Is the road poor?"
"Somewhat."
The road being somewhat poor was no doubt of little import to Holo.
As Hilde asked with his eyes, Holo replied in an annoyed tone, "Were I to run without sleep, a day and a half. Three to four days to return."
Hilde gave a strong nod.
Then, he nodded one more time.
"That might make even my comrade's wings weep."
"'Tis of course a mad pace."
The tip of his nose made the tiniest twitch.
By Holo's standards, the look in her eyes was one of considerable humility.
In other words, she spoke the literal truth.
"Were my old pack mates to learn of a wolf being a hare's errand runner, 'twould be quite a laugh. Even so, 'tis the world as it is today. Right now I can offer nothing save rushing into the company, fangs bared. The time when problems could be solved thus has passed. Am I wrong?"
Holo did not think that killing the group opposed to Hilde was a resolution to the problem whatsoever. Everything was interconnected in complex ways—a precarious balance held atop a scale.
To control the world of men, one needed not large claws, but slender fingers.
However, in all likelihood, were it not for the Kingdom of Winfiel, Holo would never have helped Hilde, he thought. The sight of Huskins crossing so many lines to protect his home was burned into Lawrence's memory, too.
Though he was the being known as the golden ram whose legend continued to be told to this day, the sheep had eaten the flesh of sheep, and finally, he had ended up a cat's paw of men.
Even so, Huskins had never wavered in his objective.
Holo's expression was conflicted, no doubt because she was remembering him.
And as she wiped that conflicted face away with a single deep breath, Holo grew in stature once more.
"I know not how much time 'twill take to retrieve the book from the book dealer. What about you?"
Meaning, having decided her own role meant she had determined to carry it out with all her strength, so it was Lawrence's turn to speak.
"In Lenos, I proposed means that would require immediate decision..."
"Do you think they shall bear fruit?"
Nothing could be said for certain. Even so, Lawrence could say this.
"Some people, if you pack three hundred gold coins in their bag and pat them on the rear, will run as fast as their legs can take them."
Perhaps entirely able to imagine the sight of Le Roi running full tilt as if his pants were on fire, Holo sniggered audibly. Even Hilde allowed himself the luxury of a modest laugh at the joke.


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

Input:
Seizing control of a company by force was light morning exercise to them.
"I have a bird companion. His wings are the fastest, but...what he can carry is roughly limited to that sack."
So it seemed that bird had taken Col's carrying sack. It was not so rare, when eating a meal in the plains, to have one's food stolen by a bird swooping down. Col's situation was merely an extension of that.
"So, I would like Miss Holo to go."
Hilde finally looked at Holo as he spoke.
Holo, her legs dangling over the bed, made what seemed like a small sigh.
"I am a substitute for a bird?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Just because one could take human form did not mean one was huge and wielded enormous might. That was true for Hilde before them; it was also true for the bird exhausting all efforts on Hilde's behalf.
"I mind not. Besides, 'tis good to run in my true form once in a while," said Holo as she got up from the bed.
Hilde lowered and raised his head, as if nodding in recognition of a trustworthy comrade's point of view. "How long would Miss Holo's feet take to bring her there?"
"Who knows? I know not the distance to the city."
Hilde's face scowled slightly. Right now, what was most precious to Hilde was neither money nor weapons. It was time.
Lawrence provided a lifeboat. "How much farther is it from Lenos to Kieschen than from here to Lenos?"
Hilde's long ears stretched instantly. He raised his head. "By fast horse, messages take twice as long as from here to Lenos."
"Is the road poor?"
"Somewhat."
The road being somewhat poor was no doubt of little import to Holo.
As Hilde asked with his eyes, Holo replied in an annoyed tone, "Were I to run without sleep, a day and a half. Three to four days to return."
Hilde gave a strong nod.
Then, he nodded one more time.
"That might make even my comrade's wings weep."
"'Tis of course a mad pace."
The tip of his nose made the tiniest twitch.
By Holo's standards, the look in her eyes was one of considerable humility.
In other words, she spoke the literal truth.
"Were my old pack mates to learn of a wolf being a hare's errand runner, 'twould be quite a laugh. Even so, 'tis the world as it is today. Right now I can offer nothing save rushing into the company, fangs bared. The time when problems could be solved thus has passed. Am I wrong?"
Holo did not think that killing the group opposed to Hilde was a resolution to the problem whatsoever. Everything was interconnected in complex ways—a precarious balance held atop a scale.
To control the world of men, one needed not large claws, but slender fingers.
However, in all likelihood, were it not for the Kingdom of Winfiel, Holo would never have helped Hilde, he thought. The sight of Huskins crossing so many lines to protect his home was burned into Lawrence's memory, too.
Though he was the being known as the golden ram whose legend continued to be told to this day, the sheep had eaten the flesh of sheep, and finally, he had ended up a cat's paw of men.
Even so, Huskins had never wavered in his objective.
Holo's expression was conflicted, no doubt because she was remembering him.
And as she wiped that conflicted face away with a single deep breath, Holo grew in stature once more.
"I know not how much time 'twill take to retrieve the book from the book dealer. What about you?"
Meaning, having decided her own role meant she had determined to carry it out with all her strength, so it was Lawrence's turn to speak.
"In Lenos, I proposed means that would require immediate decision..."
"Do you think they shall bear fruit?"
Nothing could be said for certain. Even so, Lawrence could say this.
"Some people, if you pack three hundred gold coins in their bag and pat them on the rear, will run as fast as their legs can take them."
Perhaps entirely able to imagine the sight of Le Roi running full tilt as if his pants were on fire, Holo sniggered audibly. Even Hilde allowed himself the luxury of a modest laugh at the joke.

Output:
Lawrence cleared his throat and spoke. "So, it should be five or six days, I imagine."
If the situation worsened day to day, that number would no doubt feel close to an eternity. But the land that God had created was mercilessly vast.
"I can make no promises," said Holo.
"I believe they should have arrived in Kieschen by now. I can only hope that they have already obtained the book."
He was not saying that to put Lawrence the merchant at ease. The same went for Holo.
Even so, unlike earlier, both nodded without a word.
It was said that even when one must work with their father's enemy, shaking his hand raises the plan's probability of success.
When cooperating, one must forget all else and truly cooperate.
Hilde spoke with forcefulness one would not expect from a hare. "Then, let us be on our way with haste."
Holo replied as she yawned, "You'll be a good boy, won't you?" She directed the words toward Lawrence.
Since it was not as if Holo was loading a mule down with a heavy pile of baggage, in the end, she merely switched to a pouch filled with gold coins, fastened a bit of food and water to herself, and left the town behind.
He could see a single bird flying in the moonlit sky above them. After circling around Lawrence and Hilde for a while, it flew off to the east.
Hilde did not remain.
If he was absent from the company too long, he might even be assassinated if where he had emerged next was exposed. No doubt the following several days would be the longest Hilde had ever known.
As a merchant, Lawrence felt that aiding Hilde achieve his objective was something to be very happy about. But in the end, Hilde had not directly asked for aid.
It made perfect sense really. Lawrence was a traveling merchant after all, and just the thought of sticking his neck into the Debau Company's internal strife made him shiver.
And yet Lawrence felt a little lonely at the role of a mere traveling merchant being thrust upon him once more. He returned alone to the inn where his room felt strangely large, and laid in bed, turning over.
Though he would be separated from Holo for less than a week, he still thought, Please come back soon.
***
The next day, as soon as Lawrence awoke, he searched for Holo with his eyes.
Of course it was meaningless; his face reddened as soon as he realized what he was doing.
Since he thought Holo was charming when she searched for him with her eyes, she probably would think the same thing of him. With no noise in the quiet room save that which came from the bustling street outside through the wooden shutters, Lawrence scratched his face, sighing.
He went out to the inner courtyard of the inn, greeted the mercenaries training and chatting there a bit, and picked up a beard trimmer. Even though he had done this hundreds of times over, it just did not refresh him.
Of course he was well aware of why.
Holo.
Even though he knew she would be gone for only a few days, it was like when a knife one was used to was out for repairs; one felt a certain emptiness in their hand. He really should have insisted on going to Yoitsu with Holo without paying the town of Lenos any heed. The only good thing about Holo not being here was that he could entertain such embarrassing thoughts without hesitation.
After indulging in his reverie, Lawrence went into town and changed all the silver coins he had with him into gold coins. Normally one would have to go to the exchange administered by the Debau Company to trade for gold lumione, but now that speculation had begun on the new silver coins, everyone wanted silver coins badly enough to pull them out of people's throats.
The money changers at the market were paying unbelievable prices compared to gold coins.
In a normal town, if speculation grew too heated, the councilors and guild masters would scold them suitably into line.
If clergy did not pray, farmers did not till, and warriors did not fight, but were instead wholly absorbed by gambling, anyone could imagine what would result for the town.


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

Input:
Lawrence cleared his throat and spoke. "So, it should be five or six days, I imagine."
If the situation worsened day to day, that number would no doubt feel close to an eternity. But the land that God had created was mercilessly vast.
"I can make no promises," said Holo.
"I believe they should have arrived in Kieschen by now. I can only hope that they have already obtained the book."
He was not saying that to put Lawrence the merchant at ease. The same went for Holo.
Even so, unlike earlier, both nodded without a word.
It was said that even when one must work with their father's enemy, shaking his hand raises the plan's probability of success.
When cooperating, one must forget all else and truly cooperate.
Hilde spoke with forcefulness one would not expect from a hare. "Then, let us be on our way with haste."
Holo replied as she yawned, "You'll be a good boy, won't you?" She directed the words toward Lawrence.
Since it was not as if Holo was loading a mule down with a heavy pile of baggage, in the end, she merely switched to a pouch filled with gold coins, fastened a bit of food and water to herself, and left the town behind.
He could see a single bird flying in the moonlit sky above them. After circling around Lawrence and Hilde for a while, it flew off to the east.
Hilde did not remain.
If he was absent from the company too long, he might even be assassinated if where he had emerged next was exposed. No doubt the following several days would be the longest Hilde had ever known.
As a merchant, Lawrence felt that aiding Hilde achieve his objective was something to be very happy about. But in the end, Hilde had not directly asked for aid.
It made perfect sense really. Lawrence was a traveling merchant after all, and just the thought of sticking his neck into the Debau Company's internal strife made him shiver.
And yet Lawrence felt a little lonely at the role of a mere traveling merchant being thrust upon him once more. He returned alone to the inn where his room felt strangely large, and laid in bed, turning over.
Though he would be separated from Holo for less than a week, he still thought, Please come back soon.
***
The next day, as soon as Lawrence awoke, he searched for Holo with his eyes.
Of course it was meaningless; his face reddened as soon as he realized what he was doing.
Since he thought Holo was charming when she searched for him with her eyes, she probably would think the same thing of him. With no noise in the quiet room save that which came from the bustling street outside through the wooden shutters, Lawrence scratched his face, sighing.
He went out to the inner courtyard of the inn, greeted the mercenaries training and chatting there a bit, and picked up a beard trimmer. Even though he had done this hundreds of times over, it just did not refresh him.
Of course he was well aware of why.
Holo.
Even though he knew she would be gone for only a few days, it was like when a knife one was used to was out for repairs; one felt a certain emptiness in their hand. He really should have insisted on going to Yoitsu with Holo without paying the town of Lenos any heed. The only good thing about Holo not being here was that he could entertain such embarrassing thoughts without hesitation.
After indulging in his reverie, Lawrence went into town and changed all the silver coins he had with him into gold coins. Normally one would have to go to the exchange administered by the Debau Company to trade for gold lumione, but now that speculation had begun on the new silver coins, everyone wanted silver coins badly enough to pull them out of people's throats.
The money changers at the market were paying unbelievable prices compared to gold coins.
In a normal town, if speculation grew too heated, the councilors and guild masters would scold them suitably into line.
If clergy did not pray, farmers did not till, and warriors did not fight, but were instead wholly absorbed by gambling, anyone could imagine what would result for the town.

Output:
The higher the price of silver coins climbed, the greater the profit that would line their pockets. Even though a silver coin, no matter how far it might travel, was in the end just a piece of silver with a symbol stamped on it, its price could climb to the heavens themselves.
Lawrence obtained gold coins in wide circulation from a street lined with jam-packed money changers. Unlike silver, gold coins did not tarnish or corrode; they always glittered. Lawrence had of course never seen gold coins or the like in the cold village where he was born; even when traveling between towns and villages with his master, it took him several years for him to lay eyes on a gold coin.
And when he actually saw a real gold coin in person, Lawrence then truly understood why gold had occupied a special place in human history. With their glitter and weight, they were like a condensed form of what was precious in the world. Gold made people prostrate themselves before it, as if they could not imagine treating it lightly.
Of course, gold lumione had a particular symbol stamped on it, but the pattern stamped on a gold coin was largely irrelevant. For gold was respected more than any long-dead ruler.
But unlike gold coins, which rarely showed their face in the market due to their value, the same was not true for silver coins, which dominated day-to-day trading.
That was why, as Lawrence came across a couple of mercenaries with time to kill chatting about various things across the land, the motif for the new currency suddenly came up.
"I think it'll be a ruler's face like usual."
So spoke a man with a large scar at the edge of one eye.
"Really? Well which ruler, then? Or they gonna put a whole bunch of faces?"
"Well...how 'bout the head of the Debau Company?"
Even if they looked rustic, mercenaries' knowledge and observations were more informed than one might think. Their observations were broadened from having walked between numerous towns and seen many things. An exceptional person might gain insight without seeing anything, but even a normal person could greatly broaden their field of vision through experience.
That was one of the small number of forward-looking teachings Lawrence received from his master.
"There's no way the rulers would forgive the head of a company stamping his face onto a coin. Besides, who is he anyway? His face ain't gonna put any value on a coin."
"...Well, whose face do you think they'll put on it?"
"Who knows?"
The mercenary made a large, deft shrug of his shoulder and placed a bet on a card atop a table.
"Mr. Merchant, what do you think?"
He passed the question off to Lawrence, who was watching the game.
Of course they knew he was on good terms with Luward and Moizi.
But Lawrence, who felt a bit tense, as if he was standing before vicious beasts, replied thusly. "Since they're a mining company, I was thinking they might put a pick or something on it."
"Oh, I see. A pick. Could be that, sure."
There had been groups that had raised iron pots instead of cloth as their banner of war.
The important thing was that one instantly knew who they were and exactly where they stood in the grand scheme of things. Normally, one needed the backing of a person of influence to issue a currency; that's why the face of a ruler was stamped.
So, with the faces of so many rulers lined up behind a currency with such a large number of coins, the chances the motif would be something other than a person were quite high.
"Still, it seems kind of a waste to stamp a pick on top of a coin."
"A waste?"
"Well, ain't it? I mean, it's the perfect chance to spread your face around."
"Idiot. There's too many people who wanna spread their face, there's no room to put 'em all!"
"Ah, yeah."
Their voices rose in hearty laughter.
"But if it's a pick, a lot of people won't like that, I bet."
Having somehow made his decision, the mercenary discarded a card.


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

Input:
The higher the price of silver coins climbed, the greater the profit that would line their pockets. Even though a silver coin, no matter how far it might travel, was in the end just a piece of silver with a symbol stamped on it, its price could climb to the heavens themselves.
Lawrence obtained gold coins in wide circulation from a street lined with jam-packed money changers. Unlike silver, gold coins did not tarnish or corrode; they always glittered. Lawrence had of course never seen gold coins or the like in the cold village where he was born; even when traveling between towns and villages with his master, it took him several years for him to lay eyes on a gold coin.
And when he actually saw a real gold coin in person, Lawrence then truly understood why gold had occupied a special place in human history. With their glitter and weight, they were like a condensed form of what was precious in the world. Gold made people prostrate themselves before it, as if they could not imagine treating it lightly.
Of course, gold lumione had a particular symbol stamped on it, but the pattern stamped on a gold coin was largely irrelevant. For gold was respected more than any long-dead ruler.
But unlike gold coins, which rarely showed their face in the market due to their value, the same was not true for silver coins, which dominated day-to-day trading.
That was why, as Lawrence came across a couple of mercenaries with time to kill chatting about various things across the land, the motif for the new currency suddenly came up.
"I think it'll be a ruler's face like usual."
So spoke a man with a large scar at the edge of one eye.
"Really? Well which ruler, then? Or they gonna put a whole bunch of faces?"
"Well...how 'bout the head of the Debau Company?"
Even if they looked rustic, mercenaries' knowledge and observations were more informed than one might think. Their observations were broadened from having walked between numerous towns and seen many things. An exceptional person might gain insight without seeing anything, but even a normal person could greatly broaden their field of vision through experience.
That was one of the small number of forward-looking teachings Lawrence received from his master.
"There's no way the rulers would forgive the head of a company stamping his face onto a coin. Besides, who is he anyway? His face ain't gonna put any value on a coin."
"...Well, whose face do you think they'll put on it?"
"Who knows?"
The mercenary made a large, deft shrug of his shoulder and placed a bet on a card atop a table.
"Mr. Merchant, what do you think?"
He passed the question off to Lawrence, who was watching the game.
Of course they knew he was on good terms with Luward and Moizi.
But Lawrence, who felt a bit tense, as if he was standing before vicious beasts, replied thusly. "Since they're a mining company, I was thinking they might put a pick or something on it."
"Oh, I see. A pick. Could be that, sure."
There had been groups that had raised iron pots instead of cloth as their banner of war.
The important thing was that one instantly knew who they were and exactly where they stood in the grand scheme of things. Normally, one needed the backing of a person of influence to issue a currency; that's why the face of a ruler was stamped.
So, with the faces of so many rulers lined up behind a currency with such a large number of coins, the chances the motif would be something other than a person were quite high.
"Still, it seems kind of a waste to stamp a pick on top of a coin."
"A waste?"
"Well, ain't it? I mean, it's the perfect chance to spread your face around."
"Idiot. There's too many people who wanna spread their face, there's no room to put 'em all!"
"Ah, yeah."
Their voices rose in hearty laughter.
"But if it's a pick, a lot of people won't like that, I bet."
Having somehow made his decision, the mercenary discarded a card.

Output:
"No good, no good. Crap."
As such words came out of their mouths, they tossed crude copper coins on top of the table.
The man who drew the last card laughed as he gathered up the coins, murmuring, "I wonder," as he stuffed them in his bag.
"Thanks to mine excavatin' the place I was born's turned into deep holes and muddy water. Won't stampin' a pick on a coin stir up trouble with folks?"
Those who appeared to have lost were reaching for their drinks when they made "Mm..." sounds as the words made them think.
"Don't it make ya think? Somethin' stinks about this whole business."
"And what's that?"
"Who knows. But let me tell ya..."
And perhaps switching to his card game face, one of them looked all around as he stretched his hand over the table, flipping one coin onto its back.
"It's nice if you can use a ruler whose face you know. I like Reggie the Bold, duke of the duchy of Golbea. That's why I'm sorry I can't use that silver coin no more."
It was the name of a king worthy of a gallant tale, but the child of his favorite duke had been assassinated and his position as king had been usurped. Of course, the currency in circulation stamped with the face of the previous king was melted down, and use of the old currency became a crime. It was a textbook example of forbidding the use of the enemy's currency.
"Well, there is that. But there's going to be trouble stirred up no matter whose face you put on it," said a comparatively older man.
And he was probably right.
Currency should be just that, currency—not a tool for promoting the names of people of influence.
Indeed, in many cases, that became an obstacle to the currency coming into wider circulation.
Because the right to mint currency had been largely synonymous with the right to rule, issuing currency had become a symbol of authority more than a means to make money.
"It's better for us that trouble is stirred up, though." So said another person.
"No doubt there."
Hearty laughter arose once more. The conversation shifted to who was each person's favorite ruler.
Some of the names Lawrence knew; some he did not. What kept him from leaving was that the conversation made the blood flow much more than those between merchants.
Merchants did not usually talk with one another about whom such and such got along with or did not like. When two merchants dealt with each other, it was because there was money to be made or payment to be disputed or so forth; in the end, what was important was whether money was being made or not.
But right now, he thought of such easy-to-understand fundamentals as very precious. If everything was as simple as that, the world would be a better place for it, he thought to himself.
Because this person did not get along with that other person, hundreds of currencies were necessary.
To put it bluntly, it was inconvenient.
Convenient was better than inconvenient.
He felt that what the Debau Company was trying to do was indeed correct.
He thought that to use force to interfere with or even destroy that goal for profit was living in the old era.
He wanted Hilde to do well, and for that purpose, he wanted Holo to return quickly.
As he left the card-playing mercenaries and wandered about the town, he kept thinking as much.
He thought it more logical that money should move forward as something for calculating profit and loss, with nothing to do with recognition or authority.
In the end, it was rulers who were causing upheaval within the Debau Company.
He wondered why they were such fools.
Indeed, it was best that something other than men of influence be stamped upon a currency.
If not what the mercenaries had guessed, he wondered what motif would indeed be suitable.
It was close to an enigma; Lawrence just could not grasp it.
While eating supper with Luward and Moizi, even as subjects wandered from increasing signs of cracks in the Debau Company, how they would proceed toward Yoitsu, and a few other less-dignified subjects, he continued thinking about it the whole time.


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

Input:
"No good, no good. Crap."
As such words came out of their mouths, they tossed crude copper coins on top of the table.
The man who drew the last card laughed as he gathered up the coins, murmuring, "I wonder," as he stuffed them in his bag.
"Thanks to mine excavatin' the place I was born's turned into deep holes and muddy water. Won't stampin' a pick on a coin stir up trouble with folks?"
Those who appeared to have lost were reaching for their drinks when they made "Mm..." sounds as the words made them think.
"Don't it make ya think? Somethin' stinks about this whole business."
"And what's that?"
"Who knows. But let me tell ya..."
And perhaps switching to his card game face, one of them looked all around as he stretched his hand over the table, flipping one coin onto its back.
"It's nice if you can use a ruler whose face you know. I like Reggie the Bold, duke of the duchy of Golbea. That's why I'm sorry I can't use that silver coin no more."
It was the name of a king worthy of a gallant tale, but the child of his favorite duke had been assassinated and his position as king had been usurped. Of course, the currency in circulation stamped with the face of the previous king was melted down, and use of the old currency became a crime. It was a textbook example of forbidding the use of the enemy's currency.
"Well, there is that. But there's going to be trouble stirred up no matter whose face you put on it," said a comparatively older man.
And he was probably right.
Currency should be just that, currency—not a tool for promoting the names of people of influence.
Indeed, in many cases, that became an obstacle to the currency coming into wider circulation.
Because the right to mint currency had been largely synonymous with the right to rule, issuing currency had become a symbol of authority more than a means to make money.
"It's better for us that trouble is stirred up, though." So said another person.
"No doubt there."
Hearty laughter arose once more. The conversation shifted to who was each person's favorite ruler.
Some of the names Lawrence knew; some he did not. What kept him from leaving was that the conversation made the blood flow much more than those between merchants.
Merchants did not usually talk with one another about whom such and such got along with or did not like. When two merchants dealt with each other, it was because there was money to be made or payment to be disputed or so forth; in the end, what was important was whether money was being made or not.
But right now, he thought of such easy-to-understand fundamentals as very precious. If everything was as simple as that, the world would be a better place for it, he thought to himself.
Because this person did not get along with that other person, hundreds of currencies were necessary.
To put it bluntly, it was inconvenient.
Convenient was better than inconvenient.
He felt that what the Debau Company was trying to do was indeed correct.
He thought that to use force to interfere with or even destroy that goal for profit was living in the old era.
He wanted Hilde to do well, and for that purpose, he wanted Holo to return quickly.
As he left the card-playing mercenaries and wandered about the town, he kept thinking as much.
He thought it more logical that money should move forward as something for calculating profit and loss, with nothing to do with recognition or authority.
In the end, it was rulers who were causing upheaval within the Debau Company.
He wondered why they were such fools.
Indeed, it was best that something other than men of influence be stamped upon a currency.
If not what the mercenaries had guessed, he wondered what motif would indeed be suitable.
It was close to an enigma; Lawrence just could not grasp it.
While eating supper with Luward and Moizi, even as subjects wandered from increasing signs of cracks in the Debau Company, how they would proceed toward Yoitsu, and a few other less-dignified subjects, he continued thinking about it the whole time.

Output:
When he returned to the silent room by himself, all he wanted to do was go to bed as quickly as possible.
There was nothing he could do to cooperate with Hilde; he had no time to do anything that would make money. He realized that with nothing to do, his heart was not at ease. Rather, he was feeling very lonely.
When a person traded, there was always someone else to trade with. Everything began with the expectation that others would respond to one's own words as a matter of course.
Lawrence realized that right now, the thread connecting him to the rest of the world had been severed.
Holo had probably felt like that for centuries while in the village's wheat field. When he thought about it, he had a feeling that the silence and loneliness in the wheat field would have driven him mad.
Holo was indeed quite an extraordinary person, he thought to himself.
If all went well, Holo would return two or three nights hence at the earliest. Even if that was not so, Hilde's bird companion would return to inform them of the situation at least.
He hoped everything would go well.
It did not happen very often, he thought, but precisely because of that, it would be nice if it happened once in a while.
Disputes petering out, problems resolved; everyone would move forward without hesitation. And he would set up his store, with Holo by his side and trustworthy subordinates under him. If he wanted, he could groom a successor.
But, he thought impudently, that successor would surely have a wolf's ears and tail. He would pretend that slap back in Lenos never happened.
He wondered if one could not snip the ears and tail with a pair of scissors.
After cutting them off, he would just have to ask Norah to handle the stitches.
No, that would get Holo angry, maybe he could get Eve to do it? Oh, Holo's angry, pounding the table more and more. Do not be so pouty. If it means so much to you, you can do it yourself. Although with a crude personality like yours, I'm not sure you could even put thread through the eye of a needle...
Lawrence meant to think about all of that, but he had apparently dozed off somewhere along the line.
He suddenly awoke in the pitch-dark room.
The pounding sound was not Holo pounding the table, but the sound of knocks on the door.
"Yes!" he replied loudly from atop the bed, and the knocking stopped.
Who could it be?
Just as he thought it, the door opened on its own.
"Mr. Lawrence."
A seasoned voice entered the room along with the glow of a candle.
There stood Moizi, with one of the youngsters with him.
Illuminated by the candle's glow beneath it, Moizi's face looked very serious.
"I'm sorry, it seems I fell asleep...What is it?"
When Lawrence got off the bed, he realized he had been sleeping with all his clothes on.
He adjusted his sleeves and collar, but before he was finished grooming, Moizi spoke.
"They are raising troops."
"Eh?"
As Lawrence asked back, Moizi's gaze did not waver one bit, delivering a hard fact as straight as a tightly pulled shoelace.
"The Debau Company has decided to raise troops."
Instantly, he felt like his body was being pulled backward into the darkness.
For the meaning was all too clear.
Even before the arrival of the forbidden book, Hilde had lost.
"I think we shall move up our timetable and depart tonight."
Certainly, it was quiet inside the inn, but there was an odd stirring within. No doubt Moizi's subordinates were preparing for their march in great haste.
"What will you do, Mr. Lawrence?"
Moizi asked his question, but Lawrence was somewhat hesitant.
After all, for a mercenary company to leave a town when troops were being summoned for conflict was a display of noncooperation with the Debau Company. That did not mean it would be instantly recognized as a foe, but if a single traveling merchant, having been given so much consideration by that mercenary company, stayed behind, it would be small surprise if he was suspected of being a spy.


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

Input:
When he returned to the silent room by himself, all he wanted to do was go to bed as quickly as possible.
There was nothing he could do to cooperate with Hilde; he had no time to do anything that would make money. He realized that with nothing to do, his heart was not at ease. Rather, he was feeling very lonely.
When a person traded, there was always someone else to trade with. Everything began with the expectation that others would respond to one's own words as a matter of course.
Lawrence realized that right now, the thread connecting him to the rest of the world had been severed.
Holo had probably felt like that for centuries while in the village's wheat field. When he thought about it, he had a feeling that the silence and loneliness in the wheat field would have driven him mad.
Holo was indeed quite an extraordinary person, he thought to himself.
If all went well, Holo would return two or three nights hence at the earliest. Even if that was not so, Hilde's bird companion would return to inform them of the situation at least.
He hoped everything would go well.
It did not happen very often, he thought, but precisely because of that, it would be nice if it happened once in a while.
Disputes petering out, problems resolved; everyone would move forward without hesitation. And he would set up his store, with Holo by his side and trustworthy subordinates under him. If he wanted, he could groom a successor.
But, he thought impudently, that successor would surely have a wolf's ears and tail. He would pretend that slap back in Lenos never happened.
He wondered if one could not snip the ears and tail with a pair of scissors.
After cutting them off, he would just have to ask Norah to handle the stitches.
No, that would get Holo angry, maybe he could get Eve to do it? Oh, Holo's angry, pounding the table more and more. Do not be so pouty. If it means so much to you, you can do it yourself. Although with a crude personality like yours, I'm not sure you could even put thread through the eye of a needle...
Lawrence meant to think about all of that, but he had apparently dozed off somewhere along the line.
He suddenly awoke in the pitch-dark room.
The pounding sound was not Holo pounding the table, but the sound of knocks on the door.
"Yes!" he replied loudly from atop the bed, and the knocking stopped.
Who could it be?
Just as he thought it, the door opened on its own.
"Mr. Lawrence."
A seasoned voice entered the room along with the glow of a candle.
There stood Moizi, with one of the youngsters with him.
Illuminated by the candle's glow beneath it, Moizi's face looked very serious.
"I'm sorry, it seems I fell asleep...What is it?"
When Lawrence got off the bed, he realized he had been sleeping with all his clothes on.
He adjusted his sleeves and collar, but before he was finished grooming, Moizi spoke.
"They are raising troops."
"Eh?"
As Lawrence asked back, Moizi's gaze did not waver one bit, delivering a hard fact as straight as a tightly pulled shoelace.
"The Debau Company has decided to raise troops."
Instantly, he felt like his body was being pulled backward into the darkness.
For the meaning was all too clear.
Even before the arrival of the forbidden book, Hilde had lost.
"I think we shall move up our timetable and depart tonight."
Certainly, it was quiet inside the inn, but there was an odd stirring within. No doubt Moizi's subordinates were preparing for their march in great haste.
"What will you do, Mr. Lawrence?"
Moizi asked his question, but Lawrence was somewhat hesitant.
After all, for a mercenary company to leave a town when troops were being summoned for conflict was a display of noncooperation with the Debau Company. That did not mean it would be instantly recognized as a foe, but if a single traveling merchant, having been given so much consideration by that mercenary company, stayed behind, it would be small surprise if he was suspected of being a spy.

Output:
If he came under suspicion, he was in a place ruled by the Debau Company where no one would complain if he was decapitated following an interrogation. The level of danger was incalculable.
However, Lawrence had made a pledge to Hilde.
He did not think the forbidden book would serve any benefit at this stage; he did not think remaining behind could do any bit of good whatsoever. Even so, Hilde had exhausted all other options, clinging to the book, with considerable doubts remaining as to the verity of its contents, as his single thread of hope. Consequently, Hilde had no proper path of escape in spite of this turn of events. Knowing this, Lawrence could not simply drop everything and run with his tail between his legs.
Lawrence had cooperated in handing the forbidden book over because he thought it would bring him no small profit.
Therefore, the decision was no small responsibility.
"There's someone I want to contact."
"Contact?"
But his face did not brighten any, for surely meeting Hilde would be no easy thing.
"We're preparing to flee because of the sudden summons by the town. The fact the summons for raising troops came out at night is proof someone accustomed to warfare is at the Debau Company. Once morning comes, there'll be no choice but to cooperate with them. But those who are not at all prepared cannot just leave town during the night, even if it means yielding to the summons. A deft move."
Moizi's praise of those who had decided to raise troops meant that even without saying, it was all too clear what would happen to those on the opposing side.
And no doubt that was actually the case.
Lawrence immediately wondered if Hilde was still alive.
"Still...I must meet him."
Moizi stared straight at Lawrence.
After pausing for a moment, the nod Moizi gave was no doubt his acceptance that he was a mercenary and the other man was a merchant.
"Shall I send someone with you?"
It was a very kind offer. Lawrence shook his head side to side.
"Very soon our preparations will be finished and we shall head out. The route we're taking is southeast, through the section past the butcher shop. There might be old comrades who wish to flee with us, so we'll be waiting outside the town for them for a little while. If you can make it in time, by all means..."
He must have said similar things to people he had left behind on numerous battlefields. The way Moizi said it exuded the thought, We'll be thinking of you.
Lawrence made a firm nod and asked, "Any sign of danger outside?"
"There is no sense of panic from so-called tidings of war. I think there is no danger of robbery or murder. But the Debau Company surely has people watching to see where and how others will move. In that sense, I cannot recommend strolling about."
Surely, what made Moizi and the other one so calm was that they had no doubt faced the far more desperate situation of being surrounded by town walls many times over. The youngster beside him bore a face like a child who had set something on fire in a far-off district under cover of darkness.
"You've been of great assistance." Lawrence spoke the departing words proper for any traveling merchant.
All Moizi replied was, "May you allow us to aid you once more."
"By all means."
Moizi and the youngster alike spoke with earnest faces. "May the fortunes of war favor you."
A little while later, the mercenaries quietly left the inn.
When he looked down at the town from his room, the atmosphere was certainly odd.
These past several days, without exception, there had still been many people dancing and drinking at this hour, but there had been something shabby about it all.
Like a festering wound, there was no longer only the degenerate atmosphere, like overripe pomegranates; he felt a kind of refined ill will hidden somewhere.
Assembling mercenaries meant with certainty that real power within the Debau Company had shifted.


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

Input:
If he came under suspicion, he was in a place ruled by the Debau Company where no one would complain if he was decapitated following an interrogation. The level of danger was incalculable.
However, Lawrence had made a pledge to Hilde.
He did not think the forbidden book would serve any benefit at this stage; he did not think remaining behind could do any bit of good whatsoever. Even so, Hilde had exhausted all other options, clinging to the book, with considerable doubts remaining as to the verity of its contents, as his single thread of hope. Consequently, Hilde had no proper path of escape in spite of this turn of events. Knowing this, Lawrence could not simply drop everything and run with his tail between his legs.
Lawrence had cooperated in handing the forbidden book over because he thought it would bring him no small profit.
Therefore, the decision was no small responsibility.
"There's someone I want to contact."
"Contact?"
But his face did not brighten any, for surely meeting Hilde would be no easy thing.
"We're preparing to flee because of the sudden summons by the town. The fact the summons for raising troops came out at night is proof someone accustomed to warfare is at the Debau Company. Once morning comes, there'll be no choice but to cooperate with them. But those who are not at all prepared cannot just leave town during the night, even if it means yielding to the summons. A deft move."
Moizi's praise of those who had decided to raise troops meant that even without saying, it was all too clear what would happen to those on the opposing side.
And no doubt that was actually the case.
Lawrence immediately wondered if Hilde was still alive.
"Still...I must meet him."
Moizi stared straight at Lawrence.
After pausing for a moment, the nod Moizi gave was no doubt his acceptance that he was a mercenary and the other man was a merchant.
"Shall I send someone with you?"
It was a very kind offer. Lawrence shook his head side to side.
"Very soon our preparations will be finished and we shall head out. The route we're taking is southeast, through the section past the butcher shop. There might be old comrades who wish to flee with us, so we'll be waiting outside the town for them for a little while. If you can make it in time, by all means..."
He must have said similar things to people he had left behind on numerous battlefields. The way Moizi said it exuded the thought, We'll be thinking of you.
Lawrence made a firm nod and asked, "Any sign of danger outside?"
"There is no sense of panic from so-called tidings of war. I think there is no danger of robbery or murder. But the Debau Company surely has people watching to see where and how others will move. In that sense, I cannot recommend strolling about."
Surely, what made Moizi and the other one so calm was that they had no doubt faced the far more desperate situation of being surrounded by town walls many times over. The youngster beside him bore a face like a child who had set something on fire in a far-off district under cover of darkness.
"You've been of great assistance." Lawrence spoke the departing words proper for any traveling merchant.
All Moizi replied was, "May you allow us to aid you once more."
"By all means."
Moizi and the youngster alike spoke with earnest faces. "May the fortunes of war favor you."
A little while later, the mercenaries quietly left the inn.
When he looked down at the town from his room, the atmosphere was certainly odd.
These past several days, without exception, there had still been many people dancing and drinking at this hour, but there had been something shabby about it all.
Like a festering wound, there was no longer only the degenerate atmosphere, like overripe pomegranates; he felt a kind of refined ill will hidden somewhere.
Assembling mercenaries meant with certainty that real power within the Debau Company had shifted.

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