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

Input:
"No doubt. This is Brondel Abbey after all."
Huskins nodded; then after nodding, he wordlessly poured Lawrence some more liquor.
Lawrence got the feeling Huskins had taken a liking to him. He could not stop himself from wishing that the wine were actually tasty.
"Thought not even a stone wall can resist the changes of the passing days," said Lawrence.
"...You mean those merchants? Are you lot any different?" This sarcastic manner of asking was particular to the region.
Lawrence swallowed more liquor and smiled, chagrined. "I am indeed a merchant, but my aim is a bit different from the others flocking here."
"...Oh ho. Coming all the way out here and bringing God's little lambs with you..."
"I'm here on pilgrimage to inquire about a holy relic here at the abbey."
Lawrence did not mention the wolf bones.
An abbey as large as Brondel would certainly have a few holy relics, and many pilgrims would surely come to view them.
Huskins appeared momentarily surprised but soon seemed to accept the story. He worked his mouth as though murmuring something and then nodded. "...There are many reasons to travel. Such brings color to a drab world."
Coming from the mouth of a minstrel, such words would have been mere affectation, but from Huskins they had the ring of truth.
Lawrence smiled and nodded, giving Huskins the greater portion of what delicious, savory broth remained in the bowl.
The next morning, Huskins left before dawn broke.
Through the window, the energetic barking of the sheepdogs could be heard as could chattering human voices, which suggested he always left around this hour.
Lawrence shivered at the frigid air that crept in under the blanket and clung to Holo's tail—she was under the same blanket—trying to hold on to the happiness of warmth just a bit longer.
When he next awoke, a good amount of time had passed. The sun was already well in the sky, and several rays slipped through the cracks in the window.
No sooner had he mused upon how complacent he had grown, having done no business in a while, than he realized what it was that let him sleep so soundly.
It was very warm under the covers—and Holo had slept in the same bed all night.
"I surely am handy to have about."
And surely it was pleasant to awaken to a beautiful maiden sleeping upon one's chest—though not perhaps when her mouth was full of jerky.
And not when her breath stank of liquor.
No doubt she had wanted to avoid being scolded, and furthermore, she hated the notion of hunching over next to the fireplace to drink alone. Even Lawrence avoided drinking alone—and it was warmer under the blankets, as well.
"...Where's Col?"
"I know not...He tended the hearth for a while, but once the sun rose he went off with the shepherds and their staves."
A shred of jerky hanging from her mouth shook as she spoke, and from its color, Lawrence was sure it was part of the meat Huskins had been drying the previous day.
But criticizing her would be more trouble that it was worth. He would simply have to hope that Huskins didn't notice.
"So it's sunny outside, eh...?"
The winter often kept people shut up indoors for one reason or another.
If it was fine out, there would be more people out, with the blooms of their conversation more lively.
"Aye. Just a moment ago the dogs were scampering about. And it seems as though a certain someone seems to be thinking me one of them."
"Better than drinking wine first thing in the morning. Come, move aside. I've got to go out and see what's afoot."
He nudged Holo's shoulder, but she seemed completely disinclined to move. He heaved a heavy sigh and crawled out of the bed.
While the sun had been up for some time, cold was cold.
He wanted to return to the bed where Holo continued to gnaw on her jerky, but such was the devil's temptation. Lawrence opened the window wide.
That moment the sunlight reflecting off the snow stabbed into his eyes, rendering his vision temporarily ineffective.
"...Whew. Still, what a sight."
"'Tis cold."

Output:
The barn was just beyond and downhill from the well, and beside it was none other than Col, around whom four sheepdogs jumped and frolicked.
Lawrence then realized his error with an "ah." Holo could hardly play with the sheepdogs the way Col could.
He laughed soundlessly at this, which earned him a suspicious glare from Holo.
"He'll return soon enough, with lips white from cold. You can tease him all you like then."
***
She did not seem interested, but her wagging tail suggested she did not find the idea altogether displeasing.
When he went into the next room, he found that there was still charcoal in the hearth and then understood that Col had made it ready before going out. It went without saying that he had also fetched water.
As Lawrence poured the water over the crusty rye bread, he looked at the meat that had dried overnight; it was darker in color now. Stroking his beard, he decided there was no harm in putting the question to Holo.
"Want to come along?"
He was referring, of course, to gathering information about the wolf bones that they were pursuing at Holo's request.
But Holo only flopped over on the bed, her tail swishing lazily to and fro.
"Enjoy your rest," Lawrence said and closed the door.
He wondered, though, if the slight waver in his voice had given him away.
The area was full of merchants working with the Ruvik Alliance. In the process of searching for talk of the wolf bones, he would surely come across all sorts of other news.
He went outside, where the sun's reflection off the snow made it brighter than the brightest summer day. Hiding his confident smile behind both hands, he began to walk.
"Assaj vermilion, arol woad, vud oak, rocatta saffron."
"Rocatta saffron is fine indeed. I hear the Duke of Milone donned magnificent yellow robes at a banquet recently."
"You mean the banquet that terrified even the Bishop of Mirah? Thanks to that, one of the noblemen who's a regular of mine went on an ordering tear, and I wound up turning a serious profit."
"Oh? Must be nice. If you're looking for spices, I'll have some coming in on the next boat. What do you say? They're from all over..."
If all he had to go by were the conversations he could overhear from across the street, Lawrence would have wondered just where he was.
Given that merchants' friends were also merchants, it was probably possible to buy any good from anywhere in the world just by following the connections of the merchants in this town. With such promise before him, how could Lawrence's heart fail to beat faster in his chest?
Unlike them, he was a mere traveling merchant, and while he could not match them for knowledge of well-known, high-priced goods, when it came to the obscure specialties of small villages, he would not be outdone.
Perhaps he should go join that circle there? No, no—maybe this one here. Temptation assailed him.
But Lawrence finally swallowed this all down and arrived at a building.
Above its entrance hung a green banner with a moon and a shield on it, identifying it as an inn used by the Ruvik Alliance.
"You needn't knock," said one of a group of merchants, who were having an energetic conversation about blacksmiths.
Lawrence smiled faintly, at which not just the merchant who had spoken up, but the entire group tipped their hats and acknowledged him with a bow.
This place is a merchants' paradise, Lawrence thought to himself and then pushed the door open.
"Excuse me—does Mr. Piasky happen to be in?"
"Hmm...Piasky? Oh, you mean Lag. He's in the back, writing—that fellow there."
"My thanks." Lawrence nodded to the man, then headed for the corner of the room, the like of which could be found on the first floor of any trading house or inn for relaxation and recreation.
There were about twenty round tables in the room, around which merchants played cards, discussed maps, and weighed coins on scales.
Among them was Piasky, who was furiously writing something.


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

Input:
The barn was just beyond and downhill from the well, and beside it was none other than Col, around whom four sheepdogs jumped and frolicked.
Lawrence then realized his error with an "ah." Holo could hardly play with the sheepdogs the way Col could.
He laughed soundlessly at this, which earned him a suspicious glare from Holo.
"He'll return soon enough, with lips white from cold. You can tease him all you like then."
***
She did not seem interested, but her wagging tail suggested she did not find the idea altogether displeasing.
When he went into the next room, he found that there was still charcoal in the hearth and then understood that Col had made it ready before going out. It went without saying that he had also fetched water.
As Lawrence poured the water over the crusty rye bread, he looked at the meat that had dried overnight; it was darker in color now. Stroking his beard, he decided there was no harm in putting the question to Holo.
"Want to come along?"
He was referring, of course, to gathering information about the wolf bones that they were pursuing at Holo's request.
But Holo only flopped over on the bed, her tail swishing lazily to and fro.
"Enjoy your rest," Lawrence said and closed the door.
He wondered, though, if the slight waver in his voice had given him away.
The area was full of merchants working with the Ruvik Alliance. In the process of searching for talk of the wolf bones, he would surely come across all sorts of other news.
He went outside, where the sun's reflection off the snow made it brighter than the brightest summer day. Hiding his confident smile behind both hands, he began to walk.
"Assaj vermilion, arol woad, vud oak, rocatta saffron."
"Rocatta saffron is fine indeed. I hear the Duke of Milone donned magnificent yellow robes at a banquet recently."
"You mean the banquet that terrified even the Bishop of Mirah? Thanks to that, one of the noblemen who's a regular of mine went on an ordering tear, and I wound up turning a serious profit."
"Oh? Must be nice. If you're looking for spices, I'll have some coming in on the next boat. What do you say? They're from all over..."
If all he had to go by were the conversations he could overhear from across the street, Lawrence would have wondered just where he was.
Given that merchants' friends were also merchants, it was probably possible to buy any good from anywhere in the world just by following the connections of the merchants in this town. With such promise before him, how could Lawrence's heart fail to beat faster in his chest?
Unlike them, he was a mere traveling merchant, and while he could not match them for knowledge of well-known, high-priced goods, when it came to the obscure specialties of small villages, he would not be outdone.
Perhaps he should go join that circle there? No, no—maybe this one here. Temptation assailed him.
But Lawrence finally swallowed this all down and arrived at a building.
Above its entrance hung a green banner with a moon and a shield on it, identifying it as an inn used by the Ruvik Alliance.
"You needn't knock," said one of a group of merchants, who were having an energetic conversation about blacksmiths.
Lawrence smiled faintly, at which not just the merchant who had spoken up, but the entire group tipped their hats and acknowledged him with a bow.
This place is a merchants' paradise, Lawrence thought to himself and then pushed the door open.
"Excuse me—does Mr. Piasky happen to be in?"
"Hmm...Piasky? Oh, you mean Lag. He's in the back, writing—that fellow there."
"My thanks." Lawrence nodded to the man, then headed for the corner of the room, the like of which could be found on the first floor of any trading house or inn for relaxation and recreation.
There were about twenty round tables in the room, around which merchants played cards, discussed maps, and weighed coins on scales.
Among them was Piasky, who was furiously writing something.

Output:
He looked up and fixed his gaze on Lawrence and then immediately smiled.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. Did you sleep well last night?"
"I did, thank you. Though I doubt I will enjoy the same experience tonight."
"Oh? Why is that?" Piasky's voice rose in a carefully interrogative tone, playing along with Lawrence's leading statement.
What an amiable young man, Lawrence thought to himself before pointed up at his own eyes. "I believe this is the first time I've seen a traveling merchant wearing spectacles. I'm so jealous I may lose sleep over it."
"Oh, these? Ha-ha-ha! Well, we're in an abbey, the home of writing, after all. You can find cast-off spectacles quite easily here. These don't belong to me, naturally."
It was hard enough to make transparent glass, but a master craftsman could grind and polish it into a lens.
While glasses were expensive and rare, they were practically a necessity for the monks who had to transcribe finely ornamented letters with only candlelight to work by.
"So, what news, then? Oh, do please sit down."
Lawrence noticed a slate on the table, upon which the names and quantities of a variety of goods were written in chalk. Piasky seemed to be making a list of goods to bring here on his next visit.
"A single merchant can keep a list of goods to trade in his head, but when you join an organization, you need proof of your orders."
"So figures over memories. Still, in a company like that, your name won't just be recorded in the Church's burial register—you'll live on in the memories of your comrades."
"Quite so, quite so, God willing." Piasky smiled and continued writing, dipping his quill in an ink pot. "You'll have to excuse my writing. I assume you're here to inquire about our merry progress?"
"...Is it all right to be talking about it so openly?"
"Ha-ha-ha, yes, it's fine. I know everyone here. Outsiders are always carefully observed."
Still smiling, Lawrence was not so foolish as to try looking around.
And likewise still smiling, Piasky directed a startlingly keen gaze at Lawrence. "Indeed, Deutchmann's trust in you bought you a ticket in here, so worry not. For my part, in return for furnishing you information, I'm tempted to ask how exactly you earned that trust...but I suppose that's a trade secret."
Piasky's smile was full of mischief.
Lawrence was careful not to let his guard down, but his own smile was a natural one. "Unfortunately, yes."
"I quite understand. So, about the circumstances here, it feels as though we're grinding our teeth before the walls of a fortress that should fall soon. But our jaw is getting tired, so we're taking a bit of a break."
"...They've been able to endure, despite all being pressed by such numbers?"
"We've tried to engage in standard negotiations any number of times. But never to any avail, so now I hear we're trying to reach the head abbot, assistant head abbot, another head abbot of a sister abbey who was once powerful here, and even going all the way down to the head archivist, trying to win someone, anyone over. With this many merchants, surely one of them knows someone who's close to one of them. And yet they've flatly rejected everything. The head abbot must be in a terrible position, and yet...it's rather impressive."
Rather than speaking derisively, Piasky sounded genuinely impressed.
No doubt from the perspective of someone within the organization, the fact that the abbey had continued to weather the Ruvik Alliance's assault was nigh miraculous.
"So...Mr. Lawrence, just what is it you've come to ask me?" He smiled pleasantly.
Lawrence was a veteran of many exchanges with Holo, who was a genius at tricking people into revealing the truth. He was perfectly capable of dealing with this sort of attack.
In the end, he did not play dumb, instead glancing away momentarily. Boasting now wouldn't accomplish anything, he decided, since this inn was flying the banner of the Ruvik Alliance.


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

Input:
He looked up and fixed his gaze on Lawrence and then immediately smiled.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. Did you sleep well last night?"
"I did, thank you. Though I doubt I will enjoy the same experience tonight."
"Oh? Why is that?" Piasky's voice rose in a carefully interrogative tone, playing along with Lawrence's leading statement.
What an amiable young man, Lawrence thought to himself before pointed up at his own eyes. "I believe this is the first time I've seen a traveling merchant wearing spectacles. I'm so jealous I may lose sleep over it."
"Oh, these? Ha-ha-ha! Well, we're in an abbey, the home of writing, after all. You can find cast-off spectacles quite easily here. These don't belong to me, naturally."
It was hard enough to make transparent glass, but a master craftsman could grind and polish it into a lens.
While glasses were expensive and rare, they were practically a necessity for the monks who had to transcribe finely ornamented letters with only candlelight to work by.
"So, what news, then? Oh, do please sit down."
Lawrence noticed a slate on the table, upon which the names and quantities of a variety of goods were written in chalk. Piasky seemed to be making a list of goods to bring here on his next visit.
"A single merchant can keep a list of goods to trade in his head, but when you join an organization, you need proof of your orders."
"So figures over memories. Still, in a company like that, your name won't just be recorded in the Church's burial register—you'll live on in the memories of your comrades."
"Quite so, quite so, God willing." Piasky smiled and continued writing, dipping his quill in an ink pot. "You'll have to excuse my writing. I assume you're here to inquire about our merry progress?"
"...Is it all right to be talking about it so openly?"
"Ha-ha-ha, yes, it's fine. I know everyone here. Outsiders are always carefully observed."
Still smiling, Lawrence was not so foolish as to try looking around.
And likewise still smiling, Piasky directed a startlingly keen gaze at Lawrence. "Indeed, Deutchmann's trust in you bought you a ticket in here, so worry not. For my part, in return for furnishing you information, I'm tempted to ask how exactly you earned that trust...but I suppose that's a trade secret."
Piasky's smile was full of mischief.
Lawrence was careful not to let his guard down, but his own smile was a natural one. "Unfortunately, yes."
"I quite understand. So, about the circumstances here, it feels as though we're grinding our teeth before the walls of a fortress that should fall soon. But our jaw is getting tired, so we're taking a bit of a break."
"...They've been able to endure, despite all being pressed by such numbers?"
"We've tried to engage in standard negotiations any number of times. But never to any avail, so now I hear we're trying to reach the head abbot, assistant head abbot, another head abbot of a sister abbey who was once powerful here, and even going all the way down to the head archivist, trying to win someone, anyone over. With this many merchants, surely one of them knows someone who's close to one of them. And yet they've flatly rejected everything. The head abbot must be in a terrible position, and yet...it's rather impressive."
Rather than speaking derisively, Piasky sounded genuinely impressed.
No doubt from the perspective of someone within the organization, the fact that the abbey had continued to weather the Ruvik Alliance's assault was nigh miraculous.
"So...Mr. Lawrence, just what is it you've come to ask me?" He smiled pleasantly.
Lawrence was a veteran of many exchanges with Holo, who was a genius at tricking people into revealing the truth. He was perfectly capable of dealing with this sort of attack.
In the end, he did not play dumb, instead glancing away momentarily. Boasting now wouldn't accomplish anything, he decided, since this inn was flying the banner of the Ruvik Alliance.

Output:
"Actually, it's a bit embarrassing to say out in the open like this."
"Most of the talk being exchanged here in these abbey grounds is too embarrassing to be heard. Please, speak your mind." He was like a priest hearing a confession.
"You truly think so?"
"Quite. I'm also personally rather interested. I don't have the sense you've come just to witness this sad state of affairs. I'd assume you're here to meet someone, but then you sought out me, not a monk. I'm a merchant, and so I can't help being as curious as a cat. When the curtain stirs, I want to peek behind it."
Lawrence had met very few people who he thought it would be amusing to do business with. He suddenly wished their back-and-forth could continue forever, but this was the moment to strike and triumph.
He felt a twinge of regret as he faked a smile and spoke. "I was hoping we'd be able to view the holy relics."
Piasky's expression instantly changed. He stroked his face as though trying to recover from a mistake. "Apologies. Ah...excuse me. I suppose I still have much to learn. I surely didn't expect that to be your answer."
"Do you not doubt me?"
"Please don't tease me. This is a branch of the great Brondel Abbey. If I were to be more surprised at the notion of you coming to view holy relics than I would be at you coming for profit, I'd only invite the anger of God." Piasky smiled, looked at the tip of his quill pen, and seemed to notice that the ink had nearly dried. He dipped it again in the ink pot and continued his writing. "I truly imagined you'd come for another reason."
"Other reason?"
"Yes. Ah, but now I understand. It makes sense. You don't let your guard down easily, Mr. Lawrence. For you to have gone to the trouble of visiting Mr. Deutchmann first before coming here, your aim is having a look at the asset records we completed?"
This was what Lawrence had discussed with Holo at the port inn.
If the Ruvik Alliance had come to acquire the abbey's landholdings, he was sure they would have done a thorough investigation of the abbey's assets.
True, it was something he had concluded in hindsight, but there was no need to humiliate himself by admitting as much. So Lawrence neither shook his head nor nodded it, merely smiling.
"Given how famous the abbey is, it seemed likely to have many holy relics. Naturally we haven't recorded them all, but...what sort of thing are you searching for? I may be able to help you."
And here was the crux. Lawrence decided to hedge his bets with his answer. "Something connected to the golden sheep."
"The golden sheep..."
When a clever merchant repeated words that had just been spoken to him, it was practically certain he was thinking things over. In the time it took to repeat those words, he might consider a hundred different things.
But even having bought a bit of time, Piasky said nothing further. Instead, he showed the same sort of smile that Col had whenever Holo teased him.
No doubt the surrounding merchants that were listening in were now inwardly disappointed at his performance.
"As far as relics passed down from saints go, I know something about several such items, but if it's the golden sheep..."
"So, it's nonsense, you're saying."
"Well, I couldn't be so certain," said Piasky, glancing at the merchants one table over.
The two of them seemed to be playing cards. Their ears pricked up, but they only shrugged in response.
"The tale of the golden sheep's circulated through the abbey for centuries. Or in other words..."
"...That shows that in all those centuries, it's never been found."
"More or less, yes," said Piasky. His expression was full of regret, probably because he was trying to avoid looking simply shocked that Lawrence would go to such lengths on a fool's errand.
There was no need for Lawrence to bother trying to preserve his dignity now, but if his reputation suffered too badly here, it could become a hindrance to further information gathering.


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

Input:
"Actually, it's a bit embarrassing to say out in the open like this."
"Most of the talk being exchanged here in these abbey grounds is too embarrassing to be heard. Please, speak your mind." He was like a priest hearing a confession.
"You truly think so?"
"Quite. I'm also personally rather interested. I don't have the sense you've come just to witness this sad state of affairs. I'd assume you're here to meet someone, but then you sought out me, not a monk. I'm a merchant, and so I can't help being as curious as a cat. When the curtain stirs, I want to peek behind it."
Lawrence had met very few people who he thought it would be amusing to do business with. He suddenly wished their back-and-forth could continue forever, but this was the moment to strike and triumph.
He felt a twinge of regret as he faked a smile and spoke. "I was hoping we'd be able to view the holy relics."
Piasky's expression instantly changed. He stroked his face as though trying to recover from a mistake. "Apologies. Ah...excuse me. I suppose I still have much to learn. I surely didn't expect that to be your answer."
"Do you not doubt me?"
"Please don't tease me. This is a branch of the great Brondel Abbey. If I were to be more surprised at the notion of you coming to view holy relics than I would be at you coming for profit, I'd only invite the anger of God." Piasky smiled, looked at the tip of his quill pen, and seemed to notice that the ink had nearly dried. He dipped it again in the ink pot and continued his writing. "I truly imagined you'd come for another reason."
"Other reason?"
"Yes. Ah, but now I understand. It makes sense. You don't let your guard down easily, Mr. Lawrence. For you to have gone to the trouble of visiting Mr. Deutchmann first before coming here, your aim is having a look at the asset records we completed?"
This was what Lawrence had discussed with Holo at the port inn.
If the Ruvik Alliance had come to acquire the abbey's landholdings, he was sure they would have done a thorough investigation of the abbey's assets.
True, it was something he had concluded in hindsight, but there was no need to humiliate himself by admitting as much. So Lawrence neither shook his head nor nodded it, merely smiling.
"Given how famous the abbey is, it seemed likely to have many holy relics. Naturally we haven't recorded them all, but...what sort of thing are you searching for? I may be able to help you."
And here was the crux. Lawrence decided to hedge his bets with his answer. "Something connected to the golden sheep."
"The golden sheep..."
When a clever merchant repeated words that had just been spoken to him, it was practically certain he was thinking things over. In the time it took to repeat those words, he might consider a hundred different things.
But even having bought a bit of time, Piasky said nothing further. Instead, he showed the same sort of smile that Col had whenever Holo teased him.
No doubt the surrounding merchants that were listening in were now inwardly disappointed at his performance.
"As far as relics passed down from saints go, I know something about several such items, but if it's the golden sheep..."
"So, it's nonsense, you're saying."
"Well, I couldn't be so certain," said Piasky, glancing at the merchants one table over.
The two of them seemed to be playing cards. Their ears pricked up, but they only shrugged in response.
"The tale of the golden sheep's circulated through the abbey for centuries. Or in other words..."
"...That shows that in all those centuries, it's never been found."
"More or less, yes," said Piasky. His expression was full of regret, probably because he was trying to avoid looking simply shocked that Lawrence would go to such lengths on a fool's errand.
There was no need for Lawrence to bother trying to preserve his dignity now, but if his reputation suffered too badly here, it could become a hindrance to further information gathering.

Output:
"Truthfully, before I came here, I was told by many people it was a foolish notion. But it seems people like me aren't the only ones who get the notion to chase after their dreams—those who spend their days staring at ledgers sometimes feel likewise. Which is how I came to be introduced to Mr. Deutchmann."
"...Meaning?"
"The person who introduced me to Mr. Deutchmann must have seen what I was chasing and thought it interesting. He couldn't very well chase such a tale himself, so he sent me on in his place. The more established one is, the more generous one can be to eccentrics."
The best way to confidently lie was to use truth as a base and leave plenty of room for interpretation.
The pair of men playing cards behind Piasky nodded, as though believing the tale.
While it might be seen as unreasonable to abandon chasing a living in exchange for chasing a mad dream, it was not so very rare among wealthy men.
"So that's how it is," said Piasky quietly.
"Ah, you're thinking you've learned another way to ingratiate yourself to the rich."
"No, in my case, I'm quite serious." Piasky's self-conscious smile was strangely reassuring.
Lawrence did not want his reputation to either fall too low or soar too high. With this, he was confident he had established himself as a harmless merchant who had simply come to the town with a slightly odd goal.
Thus he felt emboldened to take a step forward.
"So this is why I'd like to learn as much as possible about the golden sheep. Is there anyone in the area who would know more?"
Any merchant who ignored the whims of a rich man was no merchant at all.
The surrounding traders who had been listening in all gathered round, smiling secretly into their wine cups.
Lawrence asked not after the wolf bones but instead the golden sheep, as he knew that wolves and sheep were always companions.
If there existed a relic that related to the golden sheep, it would lead him to more knowledge about the wolf bones. At the very least, he would be able to catch their scent.
Or so he had thought, but ultimately he learned less than he expected to.
Worse, as befitted the sort of talk that happened with wine in one hand, when he finally returned to the inn room in the evening, his footing was rather unsteady.
Holo was sitting on the bed, grooming her tail, and before she could move out of the way, Lawrence collapsed onto it.
She wriggled out from under his arm as Col hurried to bring water.
"Well, you're in a fine state," Holo said as she finally extracted herself, prompting Lawrence to muse that she was the last person who should be saying as much.
He took the bowl of water that Col offered him and drank, still lying on his side. If he had not mastered such tricks, he never would have been able to get by in cheap, crowded inn rooms.
After drinking the bowl dry, he gave it back to Col.
If he closed his eyes now, he would fall asleep on the spot.
"So, how much were you able to learn?" Holo glared at Lawrence with narrowed eyes, pulling on his ear as she asked.
Had he been sober, he would have gotten angry, but given that he was currently using Holo's fluffy, warm tail as a pillow, her anger was entirely understandable as well.
"Surely you can tell whether or not I enjoyed my wine...can't you?"
"Aye. If you'd claimed to enjoy your drinking, I'd have bitten your ears off."
"Had I known it would end this way, I would've brought you along...sadly, my lady the wisewolf had already taken to her drink."
His wine-soaked mind could no longer exercise any sort of restraint. He spoke sarcastically in spite of himself, earning a slap to the face from Holo.
Honestly, it would have only made it harder to gather information had Holo been with him, and Holo was well aware of that, which was why she had not ventured to go along.
Holo's hand made a sharp smack when it hit Lawrence's cheek, after which she lightly pinched it. "Anything else you'd like to say, hmm?"


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

Input:
"Truthfully, before I came here, I was told by many people it was a foolish notion. But it seems people like me aren't the only ones who get the notion to chase after their dreams—those who spend their days staring at ledgers sometimes feel likewise. Which is how I came to be introduced to Mr. Deutchmann."
"...Meaning?"
"The person who introduced me to Mr. Deutchmann must have seen what I was chasing and thought it interesting. He couldn't very well chase such a tale himself, so he sent me on in his place. The more established one is, the more generous one can be to eccentrics."
The best way to confidently lie was to use truth as a base and leave plenty of room for interpretation.
The pair of men playing cards behind Piasky nodded, as though believing the tale.
While it might be seen as unreasonable to abandon chasing a living in exchange for chasing a mad dream, it was not so very rare among wealthy men.
"So that's how it is," said Piasky quietly.
"Ah, you're thinking you've learned another way to ingratiate yourself to the rich."
"No, in my case, I'm quite serious." Piasky's self-conscious smile was strangely reassuring.
Lawrence did not want his reputation to either fall too low or soar too high. With this, he was confident he had established himself as a harmless merchant who had simply come to the town with a slightly odd goal.
Thus he felt emboldened to take a step forward.
"So this is why I'd like to learn as much as possible about the golden sheep. Is there anyone in the area who would know more?"
Any merchant who ignored the whims of a rich man was no merchant at all.
The surrounding traders who had been listening in all gathered round, smiling secretly into their wine cups.
Lawrence asked not after the wolf bones but instead the golden sheep, as he knew that wolves and sheep were always companions.
If there existed a relic that related to the golden sheep, it would lead him to more knowledge about the wolf bones. At the very least, he would be able to catch their scent.
Or so he had thought, but ultimately he learned less than he expected to.
Worse, as befitted the sort of talk that happened with wine in one hand, when he finally returned to the inn room in the evening, his footing was rather unsteady.
Holo was sitting on the bed, grooming her tail, and before she could move out of the way, Lawrence collapsed onto it.
She wriggled out from under his arm as Col hurried to bring water.
"Well, you're in a fine state," Holo said as she finally extracted herself, prompting Lawrence to muse that she was the last person who should be saying as much.
He took the bowl of water that Col offered him and drank, still lying on his side. If he had not mastered such tricks, he never would have been able to get by in cheap, crowded inn rooms.
After drinking the bowl dry, he gave it back to Col.
If he closed his eyes now, he would fall asleep on the spot.
"So, how much were you able to learn?" Holo glared at Lawrence with narrowed eyes, pulling on his ear as she asked.
Had he been sober, he would have gotten angry, but given that he was currently using Holo's fluffy, warm tail as a pillow, her anger was entirely understandable as well.
"Surely you can tell whether or not I enjoyed my wine...can't you?"
"Aye. If you'd claimed to enjoy your drinking, I'd have bitten your ears off."
"Had I known it would end this way, I would've brought you along...sadly, my lady the wisewolf had already taken to her drink."
His wine-soaked mind could no longer exercise any sort of restraint. He spoke sarcastically in spite of himself, earning a slap to the face from Holo.
Honestly, it would have only made it harder to gather information had Holo been with him, and Holo was well aware of that, which was why she had not ventured to go along.
Holo's hand made a sharp smack when it hit Lawrence's cheek, after which she lightly pinched it. "Anything else you'd like to say, hmm?"

Output:
"Fool. Still, unlike you, I'm one who knows how to show her gratitude."
Despite his rapidly fading consciousness, he could perceive the sensation of his cheek being stroked.
His very next memory was of opening his eyes not to the dim of twilight, but to the pitch-black of already fallen night.
He was unable to sit up in bed with any kind of speed. He was quite sure that he had fallen asleep in the precise position he had occupied when Holo stroked his cheek.
He did not have to move his head to know it was aching.
Closing his eyes briefly and regretting not at least assuming a more comfortable position before falling asleep, he slowly sat up.
His body felt like dry soil, and he was stiff and sore all over. The only saving grace was that he was still covered by a blanket.
No, not a blanket, he realized.
Having sat up, he noticed dark brown animal fur clinging to his clothing. Had Holo covered him with her tail the entire time? He brushed the fur free, and Holo's sweet scent reached his nose.
"Ow—"
He straightened up, hand on his sleep-kinked neck. A faint stream of light made its way through the cracks in the room's door, which slowly opened. Thanks to the liquor, even the light from the hearth hurt his eyes.
"You're awake, are you?"
"...I think so."
"Dinner's still hot. Will you take some?"
"...Water."
In place of a reply, Holo only shrugged and then fetched a pitcher.
"Where's Col?"
"At the moment, he's hearing a lecture from that shepherd on how to deal with snow. Our lad Col is quite the listener." Faintly illuminated by the light through the door, Holo's bold smile was rather terrifying. Col was such a good listener that he made it all too easy to prattle on proudly about all sorts of things, which seemed to be sitting even worse with Holo than Lawrence would have guessed.
She stood next to Lawrence, refusing to sit as she looked down at him, which corroborated his conclusion.
"I suppose I'll have to ask someone to teach me the rules that apply when you're angry with me."
"Someone other than me?"
"You when you're not angry. You're a different person when you lose your temper."
"Mm. This is only a temporary form, after all," said the fierce wisewolf with a kind smile. "So, what of your results?"
They both knew perfectly well that the door was a thin one, so the conversation was low and whispered into the ear. It was not far from pillow talk, and Lawrence could not help but smile at the notion, still not quite free of the wine's influence.
But the first reason for his smile was this: Even though Holo desperately wanted to know the results of his investigation, she had been considerate enough not to immediately grab him by the lapels and demand answers on the spot when he had come wobbling back.
Lawrence's smile slowly shifted to a conciliatory one—if she was asking about results, he could only admit those had been meager.
"I heard nothing that will lead us to the truth."
Holo's expression shifted.
Lawrence wondered if she didn't lose her temper because she knew that merchants were creatures who did not simply stay down when knocked over or because she had anticipated this outcome.
"...So?"
At Holo's question, Lawrence's mouth gave her its merchant's answer. "As long as it's not a private operation, there will definitely be records of purchases and assets. If what we're looking for is here, there ought to be traces of it."
Piasky's writing in the commons was a good sign. Even if it was an item that needed to be hidden, it had to have been noted in writing somewhere. The merchants' habit of writing everything down was what had led to the reversal of fortunes in Kerube.
"Hmm..." Holo sniffed her assent with a hand on her hip, looking hard at Lawrence. The moment he broke his gaze and looked down, the fur of her tail puffed up. "Did you think your misdirection would work on me?"


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

Input:
"Fool. Still, unlike you, I'm one who knows how to show her gratitude."
Despite his rapidly fading consciousness, he could perceive the sensation of his cheek being stroked.
His very next memory was of opening his eyes not to the dim of twilight, but to the pitch-black of already fallen night.
He was unable to sit up in bed with any kind of speed. He was quite sure that he had fallen asleep in the precise position he had occupied when Holo stroked his cheek.
He did not have to move his head to know it was aching.
Closing his eyes briefly and regretting not at least assuming a more comfortable position before falling asleep, he slowly sat up.
His body felt like dry soil, and he was stiff and sore all over. The only saving grace was that he was still covered by a blanket.
No, not a blanket, he realized.
Having sat up, he noticed dark brown animal fur clinging to his clothing. Had Holo covered him with her tail the entire time? He brushed the fur free, and Holo's sweet scent reached his nose.
"Ow—"
He straightened up, hand on his sleep-kinked neck. A faint stream of light made its way through the cracks in the room's door, which slowly opened. Thanks to the liquor, even the light from the hearth hurt his eyes.
"You're awake, are you?"
"...I think so."
"Dinner's still hot. Will you take some?"
"...Water."
In place of a reply, Holo only shrugged and then fetched a pitcher.
"Where's Col?"
"At the moment, he's hearing a lecture from that shepherd on how to deal with snow. Our lad Col is quite the listener." Faintly illuminated by the light through the door, Holo's bold smile was rather terrifying. Col was such a good listener that he made it all too easy to prattle on proudly about all sorts of things, which seemed to be sitting even worse with Holo than Lawrence would have guessed.
She stood next to Lawrence, refusing to sit as she looked down at him, which corroborated his conclusion.
"I suppose I'll have to ask someone to teach me the rules that apply when you're angry with me."
"Someone other than me?"
"You when you're not angry. You're a different person when you lose your temper."
"Mm. This is only a temporary form, after all," said the fierce wisewolf with a kind smile. "So, what of your results?"
They both knew perfectly well that the door was a thin one, so the conversation was low and whispered into the ear. It was not far from pillow talk, and Lawrence could not help but smile at the notion, still not quite free of the wine's influence.
But the first reason for his smile was this: Even though Holo desperately wanted to know the results of his investigation, she had been considerate enough not to immediately grab him by the lapels and demand answers on the spot when he had come wobbling back.
Lawrence's smile slowly shifted to a conciliatory one—if she was asking about results, he could only admit those had been meager.
"I heard nothing that will lead us to the truth."
Holo's expression shifted.
Lawrence wondered if she didn't lose her temper because she knew that merchants were creatures who did not simply stay down when knocked over or because she had anticipated this outcome.
"...So?"
At Holo's question, Lawrence's mouth gave her its merchant's answer. "As long as it's not a private operation, there will definitely be records of purchases and assets. If what we're looking for is here, there ought to be traces of it."
Piasky's writing in the commons was a good sign. Even if it was an item that needed to be hidden, it had to have been noted in writing somewhere. The merchants' habit of writing everything down was what had led to the reversal of fortunes in Kerube.
"Hmm..." Holo sniffed her assent with a hand on her hip, looking hard at Lawrence. The moment he broke his gaze and looked down, the fur of her tail puffed up. "Did you think your misdirection would work on me?"

Output:
"I admit it. Until we can prove the bones don't exist, I could simply pretend to be searching for them."
And proving a negative was essentially impossible.
With her great beast ears, Holo listened, closing her eyes to hear all the more keenly.
There was something Lawrence had to say to her.
"I'm sorry...for making you endure this."
In that moment, Holo's shoulders froze in surprise. She looked like a child who had been caught doing something bad, and at the sight of this, Lawrence was so taken aback he ended up smiling.
"As a mere traveling merchant, all I can do is try to gather information in this roundabout manner. But you could—"
She could surely prove even the existence of the devil.
Wine had a way of loosening one's inhibitions.
Normally Lawrence would have spoken more prudently, but his feverish head was letting his mouth run free.
Had Holo not covered that mouth with both hands, he most definitely would have continued to speak.
***
He had opened a box that should never have been opened, Holo's expression said as her hands remained over his lips.
But there was not much force behind those hands.
Lawrence was still for a moment, but as Holo still had not said anything, he took her hands and slowly removed them.
"You learned as much from Kerube, didn't you? If I thought to try to forcibly take something as valuable as a holy relic, that's how it would turn out. It would be bad for me, but it would be just as bad for you."
Holo's hands were small, her fingers slender.
Given the great size of her true wolf form, this had to be a very inconvenient shape for her.
With those huge claws and fangs, she could easily take by force nearly anything she desired.
"You said it yourself back in Kerube. Your claws and fangs could set things right in an instant."
The high walls of the abbey, its sturdy gates with heavy chains locked with an elaborately constructed lock—all of it would be smashed, their contents laid bare.
The abbey guards would pose no trouble at all. They had the authority to protect the abbey, but that meant nothing to Holo. She could scour the abbey and achieve her goal in the blink of an eye.
But the reason she did not do so was obvious.
"I can..." Holo opened her mouth. "If you wish to go far away, I can take you there on my back. If you desire something, I can hunt it down for you and bring it to you. If enemies attack you, I'll drive them away, and if there's something you wish to protect, I can come to your aid. But..."
She continued to hold onto Lawrence's right hand, but she gently released it, then grasped it again with her own small hands.
"The only time I can do anything for you is when you're in your human form."
When Lawrence was in trouble, she could help him, but when she herself was in trouble, it would be faster for her to solve the problem on her own.
At first glance, this would seem to be an advantageous situation for Lawrence, but both Lawrence and Holo knew the truth. The relationship of a hen and her chick only worked if the hen was the hen and the chick the chick.
Now that they had a grasp of the whereabouts of Yoitsu, if Holo seized the wolf bones by her own power, Lawrence would have no further part to play.
Holo could solve everything on her own. Furthermore, doing so would be much more effective. Now that it had come to that, she was surely worrying about whether Lawrence would remain by her side.
Lawrence could not simply laugh it off and tell her she was worrying too much. A good business relationship only functioned when both parties benefited, and through her centuries spent in Pasloe, Holo had already experienced the breakdown that came when a relationship ceased to be mutually beneficial.
He pulled his right hand—which Holo had grasped—back toward himself and then put his left arm around her lower back. As he was still sitting, this put his face right up to her chest.
It was far from the case that he was not at all shy about this; it was in fact his shyness that propelled him.


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

Input:
"I admit it. Until we can prove the bones don't exist, I could simply pretend to be searching for them."
And proving a negative was essentially impossible.
With her great beast ears, Holo listened, closing her eyes to hear all the more keenly.
There was something Lawrence had to say to her.
"I'm sorry...for making you endure this."
In that moment, Holo's shoulders froze in surprise. She looked like a child who had been caught doing something bad, and at the sight of this, Lawrence was so taken aback he ended up smiling.
"As a mere traveling merchant, all I can do is try to gather information in this roundabout manner. But you could—"
She could surely prove even the existence of the devil.
Wine had a way of loosening one's inhibitions.
Normally Lawrence would have spoken more prudently, but his feverish head was letting his mouth run free.
Had Holo not covered that mouth with both hands, he most definitely would have continued to speak.
***
He had opened a box that should never have been opened, Holo's expression said as her hands remained over his lips.
But there was not much force behind those hands.
Lawrence was still for a moment, but as Holo still had not said anything, he took her hands and slowly removed them.
"You learned as much from Kerube, didn't you? If I thought to try to forcibly take something as valuable as a holy relic, that's how it would turn out. It would be bad for me, but it would be just as bad for you."
Holo's hands were small, her fingers slender.
Given the great size of her true wolf form, this had to be a very inconvenient shape for her.
With those huge claws and fangs, she could easily take by force nearly anything she desired.
"You said it yourself back in Kerube. Your claws and fangs could set things right in an instant."
The high walls of the abbey, its sturdy gates with heavy chains locked with an elaborately constructed lock—all of it would be smashed, their contents laid bare.
The abbey guards would pose no trouble at all. They had the authority to protect the abbey, but that meant nothing to Holo. She could scour the abbey and achieve her goal in the blink of an eye.
But the reason she did not do so was obvious.
"I can..." Holo opened her mouth. "If you wish to go far away, I can take you there on my back. If you desire something, I can hunt it down for you and bring it to you. If enemies attack you, I'll drive them away, and if there's something you wish to protect, I can come to your aid. But..."
She continued to hold onto Lawrence's right hand, but she gently released it, then grasped it again with her own small hands.
"The only time I can do anything for you is when you're in your human form."
When Lawrence was in trouble, she could help him, but when she herself was in trouble, it would be faster for her to solve the problem on her own.
At first glance, this would seem to be an advantageous situation for Lawrence, but both Lawrence and Holo knew the truth. The relationship of a hen and her chick only worked if the hen was the hen and the chick the chick.
Now that they had a grasp of the whereabouts of Yoitsu, if Holo seized the wolf bones by her own power, Lawrence would have no further part to play.
Holo could solve everything on her own. Furthermore, doing so would be much more effective. Now that it had come to that, she was surely worrying about whether Lawrence would remain by her side.
Lawrence could not simply laugh it off and tell her she was worrying too much. A good business relationship only functioned when both parties benefited, and through her centuries spent in Pasloe, Holo had already experienced the breakdown that came when a relationship ceased to be mutually beneficial.
He pulled his right hand—which Holo had grasped—back toward himself and then put his left arm around her lower back. As he was still sitting, this put his face right up to her chest.
It was far from the case that he was not at all shy about this; it was in fact his shyness that propelled him.

Output:
"I'm sorry. Just be patient a little longer, will you?"
Lawrence was in the wrong. He had to show her as much.
"...Mm." Holo nodded slightly, the total opposite of her normal demeanor.
Her hand lay on his head as though she were a priest hearing the confession of a believer and forgiving his weakness. But somehow it seemed as though Holo was the one apologizing.
"Don't apologize. If you do, all my effort will have been for nothing."
Holo's modest chest was not exactly something one could bury one's face in, but perhaps that was for the best, he mused, once he had worked up the nerve to look at her.
Lawrence looked up and smiled, and Holo angrily pinched his cheek.
No doubt she was telling him not to underestimate her, although she certainly knew he had deliberately said that to make her angry.
After continuing to hold on to his cheeks for a while, she finally relaxed both her body and her expression and smiled a tired smile. "If we find they are indeed the bones of my pack mate, my patience may well be at an end."
"And that is fine. I'll have an important job once you've bared your fangs and run off."
It was easy for him to imagine Holo's frozen form as she stared at the bones of her comrade.
"You're certainly a confident one."
"As you're so fond of saying, I'm a foolish male."
Whenever Holo was truly happy, she would tuck her head down and smile almost ticklishly. That was all the motivation Lawrence needed to resolve to determine the truth of the wolf bones.
"Heh. If we speak like this too long, we may be suspected of mischief."
Lawrence wondered if it would be too crude to ask what sort of mischief she meant. As he was mulling it over, Holo suddenly pulled away from him. But then she only smiled her malicious smile, as though having seen right through him.
There was no point in trying to keep up with her.
He evinced a chagrined smile, and Holo replied with a grin wide enough to bare her fangs. "I'll bet dinner is still warm."
Lawrence conceded and stood. "I could use a drink."
"Aye, and help yourself," came Holo's enjoyably teasing reply.
Upon opening the thin wooden door, Lawrence counted himself lucky to see Col still listening earnestly to Huskins's lecturing.
***
A bit of wine still remained in Lawrence's head, and he rolled it to and fro experimentally to make sure it wouldn't fall off.
Feeling as though he would be a pathetic merchant indeed to be affected by liquor the next day, Lawrence lightly slapped his cheeks and told himself it was because of his shortage of sleep.
In any case, he had woken up and had not even as much time for early-morning dazedness as it would take for the flickering charcoal fire to brighten.
On top of that, this was neither an inn next to a busy town marketplace nor a mountain hut without a soul around. A certain amount of sound was audible from outside—the voices of humans and dogs and sheep—but they merely emphasized the room's quietness and made an excellent lullaby.
The crackling firewood and the crumbling ashes were even better.
Lawrence yawned hugely and looked up with bleary eyes and saw that the drying meat there had hardened and darkened, and above a string of onions and garlic, he could see preserving yeast.
One could live without much coin after all. This room was a model for such a life.
Lawrence stirred up the fire in the hearth, yawning again.
"Good morning," said Col, not yawning even a single time in the process.
The boy's threadbare clothes and tousled hair were the very image of poverty, and his slender wrists and ankles belied the many dinners he had missed.
But his bright, clever eyes made it clear he was no beggar, but a wandering student. That strong, clear gaze was the single attribute that forever separated him from any pauper.
"It's cold again today, isn't it?"
"If it were truly cold, it would be nigh impossible to get out of bed."
"Then I suppose it's just cold enough to manage."


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

Input:
"I'm sorry. Just be patient a little longer, will you?"
Lawrence was in the wrong. He had to show her as much.
"...Mm." Holo nodded slightly, the total opposite of her normal demeanor.
Her hand lay on his head as though she were a priest hearing the confession of a believer and forgiving his weakness. But somehow it seemed as though Holo was the one apologizing.
"Don't apologize. If you do, all my effort will have been for nothing."
Holo's modest chest was not exactly something one could bury one's face in, but perhaps that was for the best, he mused, once he had worked up the nerve to look at her.
Lawrence looked up and smiled, and Holo angrily pinched his cheek.
No doubt she was telling him not to underestimate her, although she certainly knew he had deliberately said that to make her angry.
After continuing to hold on to his cheeks for a while, she finally relaxed both her body and her expression and smiled a tired smile. "If we find they are indeed the bones of my pack mate, my patience may well be at an end."
"And that is fine. I'll have an important job once you've bared your fangs and run off."
It was easy for him to imagine Holo's frozen form as she stared at the bones of her comrade.
"You're certainly a confident one."
"As you're so fond of saying, I'm a foolish male."
Whenever Holo was truly happy, she would tuck her head down and smile almost ticklishly. That was all the motivation Lawrence needed to resolve to determine the truth of the wolf bones.
"Heh. If we speak like this too long, we may be suspected of mischief."
Lawrence wondered if it would be too crude to ask what sort of mischief she meant. As he was mulling it over, Holo suddenly pulled away from him. But then she only smiled her malicious smile, as though having seen right through him.
There was no point in trying to keep up with her.
He evinced a chagrined smile, and Holo replied with a grin wide enough to bare her fangs. "I'll bet dinner is still warm."
Lawrence conceded and stood. "I could use a drink."
"Aye, and help yourself," came Holo's enjoyably teasing reply.
Upon opening the thin wooden door, Lawrence counted himself lucky to see Col still listening earnestly to Huskins's lecturing.
***
A bit of wine still remained in Lawrence's head, and he rolled it to and fro experimentally to make sure it wouldn't fall off.
Feeling as though he would be a pathetic merchant indeed to be affected by liquor the next day, Lawrence lightly slapped his cheeks and told himself it was because of his shortage of sleep.
In any case, he had woken up and had not even as much time for early-morning dazedness as it would take for the flickering charcoal fire to brighten.
On top of that, this was neither an inn next to a busy town marketplace nor a mountain hut without a soul around. A certain amount of sound was audible from outside—the voices of humans and dogs and sheep—but they merely emphasized the room's quietness and made an excellent lullaby.
The crackling firewood and the crumbling ashes were even better.
Lawrence yawned hugely and looked up with bleary eyes and saw that the drying meat there had hardened and darkened, and above a string of onions and garlic, he could see preserving yeast.
One could live without much coin after all. This room was a model for such a life.
Lawrence stirred up the fire in the hearth, yawning again.
"Good morning," said Col, not yawning even a single time in the process.
The boy's threadbare clothes and tousled hair were the very image of poverty, and his slender wrists and ankles belied the many dinners he had missed.
But his bright, clever eyes made it clear he was no beggar, but a wandering student. That strong, clear gaze was the single attribute that forever separated him from any pauper.
"It's cold again today, isn't it?"
"If it were truly cold, it would be nigh impossible to get out of bed."
"Then I suppose it's just cold enough to manage."

Output:
"Is Holo still sleeping, then?"
"She was curled up into a ball, so I don't think she'll wake for a time."
Lawrence only chuckled at this, then gave Col some bread and jerky and ate some himself.
"Once the morning church bells ring, we'll go visit the alliance's inn."
"Er...shall I wake up Miss Holo, then?" Col looked thoughtfully out the window, no doubt calculating the angle of light with the calendar day to estimate the hour.
"No, no need. If she isn't already up by then, we'll leave her be."
"...Might she not be angry?"
While his words were chosen and pronounced well, proof of his good education, he ate his bread the way a dog or cat would. He stuffed the entire piece in his mouth, not wasting a single crumb, and it was gone.
"She won't. If she turns truly serious about wanting to discover whether or not the bones are there, she'll find out right away."
"Huh? Er...you mean..."
Col was naturally aware of Holo's true form and power, so he would have long since realized that possibility. He probably refrained from mentioning it out of a sense of tact.
But after being momentarily taken aback by Lawrence's comment, the expression he showed and words he spoke next were far outside of Lawrence's expectations.
"She must trust us. We'll have to do our very best."
It was now Lawrence's turn to be taken aback.
"Uh—er?" Col said, Lawrence's surprise being enough to make him wonder if he had said something strange.
"Nothing," Lawrence said with a wave of his hand, wiping his own face roughly with his other hand, as though trying to re-form clay.
The boy was far outside the ordinary.
"I was just wondering if I was that clever when I was your age."
"Er...no, I didn't mean..."
"Or maybe I'm just a fool?" The thought came to him unbidden, but the plain fact was that naturally gifted people did exist in the world. The important thing was not to be envious of them, but to work harder so as not to lose out to them. "Ah, well, I've already shown you how pathetic I can be, so it's too late to worry about that."
Lawrence brushed bread crumbs off of himself and stood.
Things were as they were. What he had to work out was not how to change his circumstances, but how to conduct himself within them.
"Mr. Lawrence."
"Hmm?"
Col stood and took his coat in hand as he gave Lawrence a reproachful look. "I'm not at all confident that I'll ever be able to be like you, Mr. Lawrence."
This was probably the highest compliment a man of Lawrence's age could be paid, but the simple truth was that Lawrence was still too young to accept it.
"That'd be a problem if you were my apprentice." Lawrence tousled the boy's hair and continued, "But when traveling, there's no use in having two of the same kind of person. When you complement one another, though—that's the best sort of traveling companion to have."
It was the sort of line that would probably make Holo smile wryly beneath the covers, if she were awake. But Col's face lit up as though he had received holy scripture, and he nodded energetically.
"I'll do my best!"
"I'm counting on it," Lawrence said, and just then the sound of the morning bell came through the window.
The two faced the direction of the sound and, after listening intently, took action.
Lawrence could see why Holo was so fond of Col. Seeing that for himself had a calming effect, he could tell.
Outside it was so bright it hurt the eyes.
"The first thing is to get a look at the list of holy relics. If it's been accidentally listed there, then we'll be in luck."
"So I'll play a student on pilgrimage, then?"
"And if anyone asks, tell them of your interest in church management. Did you learn anything about that at school?"
Beneath the eaves of the deserted shepherds' dormitory, Lawrence put the question to Col as the boy wrapped his legs in cloth. The wrappings served to keep his feet warm, despite his still wearing straw sandals.
"We weren't taught anything about money."
"I see. Perfect, then."


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

Input:
"Is Holo still sleeping, then?"
"She was curled up into a ball, so I don't think she'll wake for a time."
Lawrence only chuckled at this, then gave Col some bread and jerky and ate some himself.
"Once the morning church bells ring, we'll go visit the alliance's inn."
"Er...shall I wake up Miss Holo, then?" Col looked thoughtfully out the window, no doubt calculating the angle of light with the calendar day to estimate the hour.
"No, no need. If she isn't already up by then, we'll leave her be."
"...Might she not be angry?"
While his words were chosen and pronounced well, proof of his good education, he ate his bread the way a dog or cat would. He stuffed the entire piece in his mouth, not wasting a single crumb, and it was gone.
"She won't. If she turns truly serious about wanting to discover whether or not the bones are there, she'll find out right away."
"Huh? Er...you mean..."
Col was naturally aware of Holo's true form and power, so he would have long since realized that possibility. He probably refrained from mentioning it out of a sense of tact.
But after being momentarily taken aback by Lawrence's comment, the expression he showed and words he spoke next were far outside of Lawrence's expectations.
"She must trust us. We'll have to do our very best."
It was now Lawrence's turn to be taken aback.
"Uh—er?" Col said, Lawrence's surprise being enough to make him wonder if he had said something strange.
"Nothing," Lawrence said with a wave of his hand, wiping his own face roughly with his other hand, as though trying to re-form clay.
The boy was far outside the ordinary.
"I was just wondering if I was that clever when I was your age."
"Er...no, I didn't mean..."
"Or maybe I'm just a fool?" The thought came to him unbidden, but the plain fact was that naturally gifted people did exist in the world. The important thing was not to be envious of them, but to work harder so as not to lose out to them. "Ah, well, I've already shown you how pathetic I can be, so it's too late to worry about that."
Lawrence brushed bread crumbs off of himself and stood.
Things were as they were. What he had to work out was not how to change his circumstances, but how to conduct himself within them.
"Mr. Lawrence."
"Hmm?"
Col stood and took his coat in hand as he gave Lawrence a reproachful look. "I'm not at all confident that I'll ever be able to be like you, Mr. Lawrence."
This was probably the highest compliment a man of Lawrence's age could be paid, but the simple truth was that Lawrence was still too young to accept it.
"That'd be a problem if you were my apprentice." Lawrence tousled the boy's hair and continued, "But when traveling, there's no use in having two of the same kind of person. When you complement one another, though—that's the best sort of traveling companion to have."
It was the sort of line that would probably make Holo smile wryly beneath the covers, if she were awake. But Col's face lit up as though he had received holy scripture, and he nodded energetically.
"I'll do my best!"
"I'm counting on it," Lawrence said, and just then the sound of the morning bell came through the window.
The two faced the direction of the sound and, after listening intently, took action.
Lawrence could see why Holo was so fond of Col. Seeing that for himself had a calming effect, he could tell.
Outside it was so bright it hurt the eyes.
"The first thing is to get a look at the list of holy relics. If it's been accidentally listed there, then we'll be in luck."
"So I'll play a student on pilgrimage, then?"
"And if anyone asks, tell them of your interest in church management. Did you learn anything about that at school?"
Beneath the eaves of the deserted shepherds' dormitory, Lawrence put the question to Col as the boy wrapped his legs in cloth. The wrappings served to keep his feet warm, despite his still wearing straw sandals.
"We weren't taught anything about money."
"I see. Perfect, then."

Output:
"An excellent performance." Lawrence patted Col's head and started to walk.
The sky was clear and bright, and the ground was coated in such silvery snow that it reflected the sunlight painfully back up.
Merchants who detoured over the snowy mountains in winter to win some advantage over their competition would emerge darkly tanned; Lawrence now understood why.
Col emerged just behind Lawrence and narrowed his eyes at the brightness. "I hope we can find what we're looking for on the lists."
"That's your job," said Lawrence, which stunned Col for a moment.
"Huh?!" he replied with exaggerated surprise.
"Your knowledge of the Church is far greater than mine. The patron saints of the shepherds, the saints that were once pagan gods, the strange superstitions that surround wolves and sheep. Only you can tell them from one another."
Col's charming manners were not the only thing about him that Holo liked. She also respected his steadfast will.
"...Understood." Despite his surprise, Col nodded solemnly.
Lawrence took on the tone of a teacher in response. "I'm counting on you." Then, thrusting his chest out, he pushed open the door of the Ruvik Alliance's inn.
"Hmm? Oh, welcome. It was a fine time we had last night."
Opening the door, there were already several merchants there, idly conversing over their meal. One of them spoke up, jug in hand, as Lawrence opened the door.
He wondered if they had started drinking in the morning, but such activity wasn't uncommon when one was held up in an inn because of snow.
"Good morning. I just wanted to find Piasky and thank him for last night's feast."
"If you're looking for Lag, he's in the sanctuary. Part of a regular negotiation. He's quite a merchant for one so young."
Given the man's tone, it was clear that Piasky was no mere messenger. It was possible that once the Ruvik Alliance obtained the abbey's land, they planned to immigrate and establish a town or marketplace there. It seemed unlikely that someone with the unusual job of aiding settlers would be relegated to a mere courier.
"The sanctuary, you say? Thank you very much."
"Sure. Let's drink again sometime. Bring your master along this time, eh?"
The man was referring to the fictional "master" Lawrence had made up in the course of his information gathering.
It was a bit coarse of the man to say so, but if he was willing to lay his own motives so bare, Lawrence could reply without worry. In actuality, it was always worse to be suspected than to have one's plans fully known, since doubt and imagination could give rise to speculation that exceeded any reality.
"Shouldn't they be holding a prayer service at the sanctuary now?" Col asked as they put the inn behind them.
"I doubt the abbey is able to refuse. Their position seems weaker than I'd have guessed."
Illuminated by snow and sky, the church gleamed like a beautiful, polished gem. But the ones offering their prayers and praises to God were not within the sanctuary but outside it, which proved just how much the Church's own authority was being trampled.
Outside the tightly shut doors was a group of devout merchants standing in prayer.
Just as Lawrence was wondering what to do, the sanctuary doors opened. There emerged a procession led by the high-ranking merchants and their attendants, followed by experienced-looking traders bearing parchments and sheaves of paper.
Piasky was at the head of that second group. He noticed Lawrence standing at the side of the road and stepped out of the procession to greet him.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. Are you recovered from last night?"
"My companion's something of a drinker, so I got quite an earful."
"Ha-ha. Well, bring her along next time, eh?"
As they exchanged casual greetings, Lawrence briefly sized up Piasky's position. He did not seem to be in a particularly low position.
"Mr. Piasky, do you have a moment?"
At Lawrence's invitation, Piasky waved to his fellows and answered, "A bit, yes."


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

Input:
"An excellent performance." Lawrence patted Col's head and started to walk.
The sky was clear and bright, and the ground was coated in such silvery snow that it reflected the sunlight painfully back up.
Merchants who detoured over the snowy mountains in winter to win some advantage over their competition would emerge darkly tanned; Lawrence now understood why.
Col emerged just behind Lawrence and narrowed his eyes at the brightness. "I hope we can find what we're looking for on the lists."
"That's your job," said Lawrence, which stunned Col for a moment.
"Huh?!" he replied with exaggerated surprise.
"Your knowledge of the Church is far greater than mine. The patron saints of the shepherds, the saints that were once pagan gods, the strange superstitions that surround wolves and sheep. Only you can tell them from one another."
Col's charming manners were not the only thing about him that Holo liked. She also respected his steadfast will.
"...Understood." Despite his surprise, Col nodded solemnly.
Lawrence took on the tone of a teacher in response. "I'm counting on you." Then, thrusting his chest out, he pushed open the door of the Ruvik Alliance's inn.
"Hmm? Oh, welcome. It was a fine time we had last night."
Opening the door, there were already several merchants there, idly conversing over their meal. One of them spoke up, jug in hand, as Lawrence opened the door.
He wondered if they had started drinking in the morning, but such activity wasn't uncommon when one was held up in an inn because of snow.
"Good morning. I just wanted to find Piasky and thank him for last night's feast."
"If you're looking for Lag, he's in the sanctuary. Part of a regular negotiation. He's quite a merchant for one so young."
Given the man's tone, it was clear that Piasky was no mere messenger. It was possible that once the Ruvik Alliance obtained the abbey's land, they planned to immigrate and establish a town or marketplace there. It seemed unlikely that someone with the unusual job of aiding settlers would be relegated to a mere courier.
"The sanctuary, you say? Thank you very much."
"Sure. Let's drink again sometime. Bring your master along this time, eh?"
The man was referring to the fictional "master" Lawrence had made up in the course of his information gathering.
It was a bit coarse of the man to say so, but if he was willing to lay his own motives so bare, Lawrence could reply without worry. In actuality, it was always worse to be suspected than to have one's plans fully known, since doubt and imagination could give rise to speculation that exceeded any reality.
"Shouldn't they be holding a prayer service at the sanctuary now?" Col asked as they put the inn behind them.
"I doubt the abbey is able to refuse. Their position seems weaker than I'd have guessed."
Illuminated by snow and sky, the church gleamed like a beautiful, polished gem. But the ones offering their prayers and praises to God were not within the sanctuary but outside it, which proved just how much the Church's own authority was being trampled.
Outside the tightly shut doors was a group of devout merchants standing in prayer.
Just as Lawrence was wondering what to do, the sanctuary doors opened. There emerged a procession led by the high-ranking merchants and their attendants, followed by experienced-looking traders bearing parchments and sheaves of paper.
Piasky was at the head of that second group. He noticed Lawrence standing at the side of the road and stepped out of the procession to greet him.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. Are you recovered from last night?"
"My companion's something of a drinker, so I got quite an earful."
"Ha-ha. Well, bring her along next time, eh?"
As they exchanged casual greetings, Lawrence briefly sized up Piasky's position. He did not seem to be in a particularly low position.
"Mr. Piasky, do you have a moment?"
At Lawrence's invitation, Piasky waved to his fellows and answered, "A bit, yes."

Output:
If so, he would expect it to be returned.
Lawrence flashed his best merchant's smile. "My thanks. Where shall we go?"
"I've work to do, so perhaps the library?"
"The library?"
"Ah, apologies. It's that building there. There's a theology scholar who acts as a sort of clerk on the first floor. Just give him my name." Piasky indicated a stone building nestled behind another building by the street.
Its windows had wooden shutters rather than glass, and it did not give the impression that it was heavily used.
"I have to make a report, so if you'll give me a bit of time..."
"Understood. I'll see you at the library."
After the two men made their excuses, Piasky headed off for the inn.
It wasn't very long before a familiar figure slowly came walking up to Lawrence and Col—it was Holo.
"I daresay I'll come along, as well," came her soft voice from beneath her hood.
The marks of sleep were still clear on her face, so Lawrence had to wonder if she had been debating whether or not to accompany him in her dreams.
Of course, neither Lawrence nor Col pointed that fact out. They simply nodded.
Half an hour later, they made for the building Piasky had indicated, where they were indeed met by a bearded, stern-faced man who seemed to be a Church scholar, and once he had heard Piasky's name, he led them into the library.
As one would expect from the term, it was filled with all sorts of things.
But strangely, most of the documents seemed as though they would have been of little use to merchants. There were maps, rough outlines of towns, lists of craft guilds, and even family trees of noble houses.
Piasky seemed to have been given an office here, to which Lawrence and his companions were led, passing through a deserted document room.
When the door to his office was opened, it looked much the same as the rest of the library.
"My apologies for interrupting you while you're so busy."
"Not at all. My comrades were so rude last night, after all—not that this is an apology."
Perhaps this explained why Piasky had seemed as though he was doing Lawrence a favor.
"Not at all. I learned all sorts of useful things, so I should be thanking you. Of course—" Lawrence continued jokingly, "that does make it harder for me to ask another favor of you."
Ledgers would always be adjusted so the balance came to zero.
However, it was also true that a small loss could become a huge gain.
"Ha-ha-ha. Well, if it's a difficult favor, I may have to ask for some compensation. What could it be, I wonder? If it's something I can easily arrange, just name it."
"Honestly, it's what you were speaking of last night. I was hoping you could arrange for me to have a look at the list of holy relics within Brondel Abbey."
"Oh, that? I was sure it would be something else. Well, I wasn't lying, here—look," said Piasky, picking up a stack of parchment from atop the stacks on his desk and handing it to Lawrence.
There upon it was indeed written a list of holy relics.
"I thought you might want to have a look at it, so I made it ready for you."
Lawrence flipped through a few pages, then looked up with gratitude. "My deepest thanks to you. If someone like me were to knock upon the doors of the abbey myself, I'm quite sure I'd be turned away at once."
"Not at all. I'm sure you've guessed as much, given how easily I handed it over to you, but there's nothing of use there. Nearly everything written on it is worthless. You'll smile to see it, I'm sure," said Piasky, as though he were recommending a particularly tasty wine.
As Lawrence started to scan the parchment, he understood that Piasky was quite right. Even not knowing their exact market value, each entry in the long list of items was a famous relic that would have taken a truly unbelievable sum to purchase.
But famous relics were not necessarily famous for their miraculous properties.
Sometimes they were famous because you could see versions of them all over the countryside.


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

Input:
If so, he would expect it to be returned.
Lawrence flashed his best merchant's smile. "My thanks. Where shall we go?"
"I've work to do, so perhaps the library?"
"The library?"
"Ah, apologies. It's that building there. There's a theology scholar who acts as a sort of clerk on the first floor. Just give him my name." Piasky indicated a stone building nestled behind another building by the street.
Its windows had wooden shutters rather than glass, and it did not give the impression that it was heavily used.
"I have to make a report, so if you'll give me a bit of time..."
"Understood. I'll see you at the library."
After the two men made their excuses, Piasky headed off for the inn.
It wasn't very long before a familiar figure slowly came walking up to Lawrence and Col—it was Holo.
"I daresay I'll come along, as well," came her soft voice from beneath her hood.
The marks of sleep were still clear on her face, so Lawrence had to wonder if she had been debating whether or not to accompany him in her dreams.
Of course, neither Lawrence nor Col pointed that fact out. They simply nodded.
Half an hour later, they made for the building Piasky had indicated, where they were indeed met by a bearded, stern-faced man who seemed to be a Church scholar, and once he had heard Piasky's name, he led them into the library.
As one would expect from the term, it was filled with all sorts of things.
But strangely, most of the documents seemed as though they would have been of little use to merchants. There were maps, rough outlines of towns, lists of craft guilds, and even family trees of noble houses.
Piasky seemed to have been given an office here, to which Lawrence and his companions were led, passing through a deserted document room.
When the door to his office was opened, it looked much the same as the rest of the library.
"My apologies for interrupting you while you're so busy."
"Not at all. My comrades were so rude last night, after all—not that this is an apology."
Perhaps this explained why Piasky had seemed as though he was doing Lawrence a favor.
"Not at all. I learned all sorts of useful things, so I should be thanking you. Of course—" Lawrence continued jokingly, "that does make it harder for me to ask another favor of you."
Ledgers would always be adjusted so the balance came to zero.
However, it was also true that a small loss could become a huge gain.
"Ha-ha-ha. Well, if it's a difficult favor, I may have to ask for some compensation. What could it be, I wonder? If it's something I can easily arrange, just name it."
"Honestly, it's what you were speaking of last night. I was hoping you could arrange for me to have a look at the list of holy relics within Brondel Abbey."
"Oh, that? I was sure it would be something else. Well, I wasn't lying, here—look," said Piasky, picking up a stack of parchment from atop the stacks on his desk and handing it to Lawrence.
There upon it was indeed written a list of holy relics.
"I thought you might want to have a look at it, so I made it ready for you."
Lawrence flipped through a few pages, then looked up with gratitude. "My deepest thanks to you. If someone like me were to knock upon the doors of the abbey myself, I'm quite sure I'd be turned away at once."
"Not at all. I'm sure you've guessed as much, given how easily I handed it over to you, but there's nothing of use there. Nearly everything written on it is worthless. You'll smile to see it, I'm sure," said Piasky, as though he were recommending a particularly tasty wine.
As Lawrence started to scan the parchment, he understood that Piasky was quite right. Even not knowing their exact market value, each entry in the long list of items was a famous relic that would have taken a truly unbelievable sum to purchase.
But famous relics were not necessarily famous for their miraculous properties.
Sometimes they were famous because you could see versions of them all over the countryside.

Output:
There was also the supposed right eye of a great sage that was said to be able to see into the future—and Lawrence knew of four churches that purported to house this mighty eye.
It was no more rare than finding a craftsman who claimed to make spears that could pierce anything with a shop next door to an armorer who claimed his armor could turn aside any blade. Such things were common the world over.
"But you may not find what you seek there, Mr. Lawrence. The golden sheep is a thing of legend, and it hasn't left so much as a single concrete artifact behind. As far as tales go, there's the story of the soldier who tried to pluck a piece of its golden wool, but..."
"No, chasing what we're after is like trying to catch a cloud, so it's nothing like that. But while a cloud might be impossible to grasp, its presence in the sky is still a fact. Essentially—"
"—You're looking for the evidence."
"Precisely. If there's a patron saint revered by shepherds or something connected to them, it might serve as proof that the abbey is aware of the golden sheep. Thus, the golden sheep could be supposed to exist."
Lawrence knew the reasoning was somewhat forced, but occasionally such pronouncements were necessary for persuading a customer. Piasky, whose job it was to lead settlers to a notional promised land that was little more than simple wilderness, seemed familiar with the concept.
He nodded significantly and then smiled a wry smile.
"Still, as you said, there seems to be little of interest here." Lawrence looked the list over quickly and then handed it to Col and Holo. Both of them had waited patiently as they were well aware of the roles they were playing.
Piasky glanced at them and then spoke to Lawrence. "I'm sorry it wasn't any use to you...though I suppose it's strange for me to be apologizing."
Lawrence couldn't help but laugh at Piasky's joke.
"We looked over that list countless times," Piasky continued. "You can find the items on it all over the land. A few of them could be sold off straightaway for a good price, but...to be honest, I have my own reason for showing you the list."
"You do?" asked Lawrence, which Piasky smiled regretfully at.
"Yes. I was wondering if there's something there that hides a deeper purpose."
At Piasky's words, Lawrence looked again at the parchment his two companions were examining carefully. It seemed to be nothing more than a list of the kinds of trinkets any wealthy abbey or church would contain. He didn't feel any particular significance to any of them, nor any special connection to the land. It seemed like nothing more than a peek at how wealthy people wasted their money.
He understood what Piasky meant, though.
Piasky wanted to know if any of the items had been bought not simply out of a sense of pride, but rather out of a true sense of purpose or belief.
His motive for doing so was not difficult to understand. The abbey was steadfastly refusing the Ruvik Alliance's efforts, so Piasky was looking for a chance to break that resistance.
Understanding the opponent's desire was the key to negotiation.
"Just earlier I was in the sanctuary, conducting standard negotiation. The abbey's solidarity was admirable as always—even as their finances are tight, and they beg the royal merchants for funds to conduct the spring thanksgiving festival."
"Their finances are that poor?"


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

Input:
There was also the supposed right eye of a great sage that was said to be able to see into the future—and Lawrence knew of four churches that purported to house this mighty eye.
It was no more rare than finding a craftsman who claimed to make spears that could pierce anything with a shop next door to an armorer who claimed his armor could turn aside any blade. Such things were common the world over.
"But you may not find what you seek there, Mr. Lawrence. The golden sheep is a thing of legend, and it hasn't left so much as a single concrete artifact behind. As far as tales go, there's the story of the soldier who tried to pluck a piece of its golden wool, but..."
"No, chasing what we're after is like trying to catch a cloud, so it's nothing like that. But while a cloud might be impossible to grasp, its presence in the sky is still a fact. Essentially—"
"—You're looking for the evidence."
"Precisely. If there's a patron saint revered by shepherds or something connected to them, it might serve as proof that the abbey is aware of the golden sheep. Thus, the golden sheep could be supposed to exist."
Lawrence knew the reasoning was somewhat forced, but occasionally such pronouncements were necessary for persuading a customer. Piasky, whose job it was to lead settlers to a notional promised land that was little more than simple wilderness, seemed familiar with the concept.
He nodded significantly and then smiled a wry smile.
"Still, as you said, there seems to be little of interest here." Lawrence looked the list over quickly and then handed it to Col and Holo. Both of them had waited patiently as they were well aware of the roles they were playing.
Piasky glanced at them and then spoke to Lawrence. "I'm sorry it wasn't any use to you...though I suppose it's strange for me to be apologizing."
Lawrence couldn't help but laugh at Piasky's joke.
"We looked over that list countless times," Piasky continued. "You can find the items on it all over the land. A few of them could be sold off straightaway for a good price, but...to be honest, I have my own reason for showing you the list."
"You do?" asked Lawrence, which Piasky smiled regretfully at.
"Yes. I was wondering if there's something there that hides a deeper purpose."
At Piasky's words, Lawrence looked again at the parchment his two companions were examining carefully. It seemed to be nothing more than a list of the kinds of trinkets any wealthy abbey or church would contain. He didn't feel any particular significance to any of them, nor any special connection to the land. It seemed like nothing more than a peek at how wealthy people wasted their money.
He understood what Piasky meant, though.
Piasky wanted to know if any of the items had been bought not simply out of a sense of pride, but rather out of a true sense of purpose or belief.
His motive for doing so was not difficult to understand. The abbey was steadfastly refusing the Ruvik Alliance's efforts, so Piasky was looking for a chance to break that resistance.
Understanding the opponent's desire was the key to negotiation.
"Just earlier I was in the sanctuary, conducting standard negotiation. The abbey's solidarity was admirable as always—even as their finances are tight, and they beg the royal merchants for funds to conduct the spring thanksgiving festival."
"Their finances are that poor?"

Output:
Even an abbey could not completely sever itself from the outside world, and those connections meant it was impossible to avoid accommodating the world's ways.
And their predicament was worse than Lawrence had guessed.
"They've amassed a huge fortune thanks to their wool sales, so they've plenty of men able to figure profit and loss. And I'm sure there are some among them who would like to reach a realistic compromise. But still, the council remains united in its rejection of the alliance's requests."
"And you believe that solidarity is because of some peculiar conviction?"
Without support of some kind, they wouldn't have been able to continue resisting—particularly if their group contained more than one opinion. If they had united in defense of God's glory, Lawrence doubted Piasky would have expressed such doubts.
While it contained men who loved money, the abbey also had those whose prayers were genuine. And yet obtaining a decision was proving impossible, much to the frustration of the alliance.
"Heavy investment in a holy relic would fit the circumstances. The devout among them would accept it, and if it could be turned to profit, it would be the perfect support during this difficult time. So if we can simply find what they're clinging to and take it from them, I believe they will crumble."
It was a very direct strategy.
But when Lawrence looked at Holo and Col, he saw a glimmer of an idea deep in the pair's eyes, despite their appearing to find nothing of interest on the parchment.
The story of the wolf bones—if it were more than a simple tale spoken of during drunken tavern conversations, it would fit Piasky's theory perfectly.
"I believe it's a good idea...and the idea that with so many fakes in the world no one would possibly put their faith in a relic would serve as good cover."
"Indeed...you're quite right."
Lawrence said nothing about the wolf bones because, given the circumstances, doing so would only weaken his position. His opponent was the Ruvik Alliance, to whose power the port town of Kerube could hardly compare.
If he slipped up and got involved with them, it was unlikely he would escape unscathed.
Col and Holo, too, seemed to understand this.
He looked down at the parchment again.
"To tell the truth, after your visit last night, Mr. Lawrence, I was so excited I could hardly sleep." Sitting in his chair, Piasky smiled a self-deprecating smile. It was as though he was finally showing the exhaustion he'd been hiding all along.
Piasky's words a moment earlier—"We looked over that list countless times"—came to Lawrence's mind, albeit with a slightly different meaning this time. He imagined Piasky up late at night, poring over the paragraphs by candlelight.
"Any clues that would break this deadlock would be more precious than any gospel to us. I can't describe to you the sense of futility I felt after checking over that parchment again and again. And yet I thought perhaps...perhaps you or your companions might be able to help. Hence my ulterior motive in showing it to you."
"I'm sorry we couldn't be of any use."
Piasky and Lawrence both laughed at these words.
A baker might sell bread at his shop's counter from birth till death, but merchants spent their lives swinging between extremes of hope and disappointment—yet undaunted always tended toward hope.
But something bothered Lawrence, so he asked about it. "This is a rather boorish question, but..."
"Yes?"
"If the alliance is really able to buy the abbey's land, will it be so profitable?"
The Ruvik Alliance had not been formed to pursue the meager profits of a small-town trading company.
They commanded trading vessels and warships, and if a town was imposing tariffs to protect their own merchants, the alliance could use sheer force of arms to open that town's gates.
Lawrence had heard of many transactions the alliance had conducted, each one so large as to make one wonder if there could really be so much money in the world.