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

Input:
Holo then rolled onto her side, propped her head up, and grumpily thumped her tail against the bed.
"Fool. Doing that would lay waste to such a beautiful forest. Have you forgotten how delicious that meat was?"
"I appreciate that position, too. The reason the village has been able to preserve such a relaxing atmosphere is probably thanks to how rich the forest is."
"Mm. So you do understand."
Holo seemed proud, as though she had been praised; she was probably a little drunk.
"Beavery seems like an understanding and good-natured lord. He said he has been generously allowing the villagers to gather mushrooms, honey, and even wild oats and rye from the forest. So even if the harvest fails, they never have to worry about food."
"Aye. 'Tis not a bad thing..."
Holo spoke with half-lidded eyes. It was probably because she had just eaten and drank her fill, but she was also likely tired from being on the road for the first time in quite a while.
"But that being said, they can't make a living without silver. The village needs to make money in order to purchase goods they can't produce on their own."
"Mm-hmm...But to cut down and sell the trees? What a daft plan..."
Holo's head dropped from the support she was giving it.
She would soon go straight to curling herself up, so Lawrence stood with a sigh and began to remove the robe she still had on.
"Rrrgh...I do not mind sleeping like this..."
"Yes you do. You'll damage the fabric."
"Fool..."
Holo's movements grew more sluggish as she spoke. It amazed him that she could act like this on one hand and on the other, insist that she was the wisewolf, a great being once worshipped as a god.
After he peeled the robe from her, he removed the pouch of wheat from around her neck and placed it by the pillow.
By then, she was already in the world of dreams, snoring softly.
"Really, what a handful." Lawrence sighed, folded the robe, and then walked over to the window.
The nighttime autumn wind was a little cold on his skin, and the forest harbored a deep darkness despite the moonlight cast upon it.
"Cut trees will still grow back...so it'd be best to sell them at a high price while they can, huh?"
There were more than a handful of villagers who thought that way.
However, Beavery, who had managed this land for generations, was afraid that laying waste to the forest for such an impulsive leap would mean that they would no longer be able to rely on the blessings of the forest as they always had.
Even if that was a sort of religious view of the forest, it was not entirely groundless.
Even mushrooms would stop growing after a few years if uprooted entirely to sate greed. By cutting down the trees, the direction of the air currents would change, the flow of water would change, the plants would change, and so would the habitats of animals like the birds and the bees.
And it would take more than a generation before the trees would begin to grow back.
In the end, there was ample reason to be cautious over whether they should take this shortcut.
But what if the value of lumber went down as they hemmed and hawed, only for the village to find itself beset by crop failure, or fire, or any other disaster that required a large amount of money?
He could imagine they would start quarrelling over how they should have sold the lumber earlier.
The landlord, Beavery, wanted to lessen the villagers' troubles while also preserving the lush forest for the future and putting some money on reserve for his territory.
Then what were they supposed to do?
Lawrence had been staring into the distance toward the nighttime forest, but he finally sighed and shut the window.
This was not a problem that would unravel itself after a bit of thinking. He would have to hear what the villagers had to say and, depending on the situation, even talk to the village chief or the community leaders directly.

Output:
As Lawrence thought about all that, he crossed his arms with a sigh to himself.
Holo was curled up and clinging to the blanket, snoring quietly.
"So this is why they call you the Great Wisewolf."
When he saw her peaceful sleeping face under the blanket, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.
After giving her a kiss on the cheek, he blew out the candle and crawled under the blanket himself.
For now, he would put everything aside for tomorrow.
Sleep came to him in an instant.
It was not as laudable as thanks for the meat they were treated to the night before or anything like that. Rather, it was the indignation that the abundant forest might be brought to ruin that spurred Holo into taking enthusiastic action.
"Hey, Holo...wait!"
Both Lawrence and, unusually, Holo woke up early to see the forest for themselves, but on the way there, Lawrence complained about Holo's quick pace.
"What, did you drink too much last night?"
How someone walked was apparently more important than their strength or stamina when it came to trekking through the wilderness.
Holo's gait was literally that of a wolf, and she practically flew across the ground. It was too much for Lawrence, who had settled down as a bathhouse owner, to keep up with.
"But you...cough, cough...Why are you getting so worked up?"
Lawrence's breath caught, so he drank the cool water from his waterskin, and Holo looked back with her glinting red eyes.
"I am not getting worked up. I simply think that those who would dare to ruin a forest like this are irredeemably foolish!"
It would be useless pointing out that was exactly what being angry meant.
Lawrence sighed and took the wooden board he had under his arm in his hand. There was a layer of wax on it meant for writing with a pointed wooden pen.
On it were the detailed notes of how the villagers felt about the forest.
"Either way, the Beavery forest really does seem to go on forever. Here we have, um...the place where they harvest wild grains."
Even rye and oats could be found in the forest. They were not as high quality as properly farmed crops, but they could be useful for adding to the brewing process of ale or as feed for the pack animals.
"Mm. It has been moderately opened up so it has good sunlight, and since 'tis on a hill, the drainage is good. I could chase away the deer and the boars and promise to take care of the farming for a thousand years."
Holo was the avatar of a wolf who resided in wheat, so that was very likely true.
"Some think that cutting the trees down here might not have too much of an impact."
Lawrence thought that by widening the land, the villagers could expand their fields even more.
"Hmph, they truly are fools." Holo, however, whirled around to look at this clearing in the woods as she spoke, almost like she had brushed away that line of thought with her tail. "Go ahead—cut down the trees around here. The wind will come with days of bad weather and mow down all the budding ears of wheat. Then, the only things that will thrive will be the short and needlessly fat, and those shoots will go on to barely produce anything. In a few years' time, there will be nothing but thorny grasses that cannot be boiled or fried."
Holo had lived for centuries in the wheat fields of a village, and before that, she had reigned over a region called Yoitsu, which was deeper into the mountains than even Nyohhira. There was no doubt that she had watched forests change for a span of time he could scarcely even imagine.
"I see. A long time ago, the people in a village I visited for trade were complaining about suddenly losing the blessings of the forest. I guess that's what that means."
"Aye. 'Tis a given for them, so 'tis not that I do not understand how they think: that their good fortune will persist no matter what they do. But the forest is more sensitive than the scales you trifle with."
Holo crouched, took a piece of straw that had been left on the ground, and aimlessly flung it around like a child.
"Where to next?"


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

Input:
As Lawrence thought about all that, he crossed his arms with a sigh to himself.
Holo was curled up and clinging to the blanket, snoring quietly.
"So this is why they call you the Great Wisewolf."
When he saw her peaceful sleeping face under the blanket, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.
After giving her a kiss on the cheek, he blew out the candle and crawled under the blanket himself.
For now, he would put everything aside for tomorrow.
Sleep came to him in an instant.
It was not as laudable as thanks for the meat they were treated to the night before or anything like that. Rather, it was the indignation that the abundant forest might be brought to ruin that spurred Holo into taking enthusiastic action.
"Hey, Holo...wait!"
Both Lawrence and, unusually, Holo woke up early to see the forest for themselves, but on the way there, Lawrence complained about Holo's quick pace.
"What, did you drink too much last night?"
How someone walked was apparently more important than their strength or stamina when it came to trekking through the wilderness.
Holo's gait was literally that of a wolf, and she practically flew across the ground. It was too much for Lawrence, who had settled down as a bathhouse owner, to keep up with.
"But you...cough, cough...Why are you getting so worked up?"
Lawrence's breath caught, so he drank the cool water from his waterskin, and Holo looked back with her glinting red eyes.
"I am not getting worked up. I simply think that those who would dare to ruin a forest like this are irredeemably foolish!"
It would be useless pointing out that was exactly what being angry meant.
Lawrence sighed and took the wooden board he had under his arm in his hand. There was a layer of wax on it meant for writing with a pointed wooden pen.
On it were the detailed notes of how the villagers felt about the forest.
"Either way, the Beavery forest really does seem to go on forever. Here we have, um...the place where they harvest wild grains."
Even rye and oats could be found in the forest. They were not as high quality as properly farmed crops, but they could be useful for adding to the brewing process of ale or as feed for the pack animals.
"Mm. It has been moderately opened up so it has good sunlight, and since 'tis on a hill, the drainage is good. I could chase away the deer and the boars and promise to take care of the farming for a thousand years."
Holo was the avatar of a wolf who resided in wheat, so that was very likely true.
"Some think that cutting the trees down here might not have too much of an impact."
Lawrence thought that by widening the land, the villagers could expand their fields even more.
"Hmph, they truly are fools." Holo, however, whirled around to look at this clearing in the woods as she spoke, almost like she had brushed away that line of thought with her tail. "Go ahead—cut down the trees around here. The wind will come with days of bad weather and mow down all the budding ears of wheat. Then, the only things that will thrive will be the short and needlessly fat, and those shoots will go on to barely produce anything. In a few years' time, there will be nothing but thorny grasses that cannot be boiled or fried."
Holo had lived for centuries in the wheat fields of a village, and before that, she had reigned over a region called Yoitsu, which was deeper into the mountains than even Nyohhira. There was no doubt that she had watched forests change for a span of time he could scarcely even imagine.
"I see. A long time ago, the people in a village I visited for trade were complaining about suddenly losing the blessings of the forest. I guess that's what that means."
"Aye. 'Tis a given for them, so 'tis not that I do not understand how they think: that their good fortune will persist no matter what they do. But the forest is more sensitive than the scales you trifle with."
Holo crouched, took a piece of straw that had been left on the ground, and aimlessly flung it around like a child.
"Where to next?"

Output:
As Lawrence read out the notes of what he heard from the villagers, he raised his voice in surprise.
"What is it?"
"Well." Lawrence turned the board to Holo. "It's a caution for bees."
There was still a hint of redness where he had been stung while harvesting a beehive.
He was rubbing an ointment kneaded from pig's fat over it, and Holo, who was rubbing it over the places he could not reach, of course knew Lawrence's pain.
But standing there was a gluttonous wolf.
"Do you mean we should take advantage of this opportunity?"
"No! I'm not collecting any more hives!"
If he did not refuse outright, then he would gradually be coaxed into harvesting another beehive.
Holo chuckled, bit into the straw she held in her hand, and pointed east.
"Then we shall head that way."
Seeing how chipper Holo was made Lawrence feel tired for some reason as he followed after her.
Holo thankfully tread carefully down the path that descended the slight hill. She informed him about holes that were hidden by fallen leaves that made the ground look stable, gauged the direction of the wind, then found them an easy detour.
The forest grew denser and denser, and the air grew heavier and more damp.
There were plenty of evergreens here, and they blocked out the sun.
The occasional outburst of noise and the sound of snapping twigs were likely birds he could not see or squirrels and mice that just barely hid from view.
Plenty of acorns and other seeds were scattered around their feet, and a pig would surely grow fat in an instant if they let one roam around here.
"The farther in we walk, the better this forest becomes," Holo said with a sigh of admiration, and Lawrence agreed with a nod. "This explains why those in the village do not attend to their fieldwork too diligently," she added.
"Hmm...It didn't really seem like the fields in the village were in that sorry a state, though. Is that really the case?"
"They do not think much of it. After all, the villagers can find all the food they want simply by wandering in the forest, so of course 'tis inevitable. Well, because of that, I am even more confounded as to why they quibble over how to deal with the forest. Losing this would put so many in dire straits."
Holo spoke as she followed a squirrel running atop a tree branch, and Lawrence responded.
"That's because the blessings of the forest aren't equal to everyone."
"Hmm?"
Holo, who had switched from straw to a stick, smacked at a tree root, perhaps because she was bored, as she turned back to Lawrence.
When he crouched down, he found some herbs that were useful in relieving fever, and since Beavery had told them they could take what they wanted from the woods, he readily gathered some.
"Herbs like this, mushrooms, and nuts are useful to everyone. But human activity is complicated."
Holo said nothing, but her eyes told him to continue.
As Lawrence walked beside her, he spoke.
"The blessings of the forest might be bountiful, but there are only so many things that can be changed into coins."
"Honey and such?"
"Yeah. I think that's the best example of food. You can sell ale and cider depending on what's available, but if the water in the area isn't any good, then they won't even consider it. And when you're so far away from civilization like this, shipping will cost time and money. Liquids are heavy, so transporting the freight will be the costliest part of the process. If the taste isn't truly excellent, then it'll barely stand a chance at the market."
Holo wore a pensive expression, perhaps because she was recalling her mercantile journey with Lawrence.
"Also, they could bring sheep and pigs from town to let them graze here, but distance is still the main problem at the end of the day."
Something happened right as he was speaking about that.
Holo suddenly stretched out her neck and looked deeper into the forest.
"What is it?"
"...The smell of coal."


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

Input:
As Lawrence read out the notes of what he heard from the villagers, he raised his voice in surprise.
"What is it?"
"Well." Lawrence turned the board to Holo. "It's a caution for bees."
There was still a hint of redness where he had been stung while harvesting a beehive.
He was rubbing an ointment kneaded from pig's fat over it, and Holo, who was rubbing it over the places he could not reach, of course knew Lawrence's pain.
But standing there was a gluttonous wolf.
"Do you mean we should take advantage of this opportunity?"
"No! I'm not collecting any more hives!"
If he did not refuse outright, then he would gradually be coaxed into harvesting another beehive.
Holo chuckled, bit into the straw she held in her hand, and pointed east.
"Then we shall head that way."
Seeing how chipper Holo was made Lawrence feel tired for some reason as he followed after her.
Holo thankfully tread carefully down the path that descended the slight hill. She informed him about holes that were hidden by fallen leaves that made the ground look stable, gauged the direction of the wind, then found them an easy detour.
The forest grew denser and denser, and the air grew heavier and more damp.
There were plenty of evergreens here, and they blocked out the sun.
The occasional outburst of noise and the sound of snapping twigs were likely birds he could not see or squirrels and mice that just barely hid from view.
Plenty of acorns and other seeds were scattered around their feet, and a pig would surely grow fat in an instant if they let one roam around here.
"The farther in we walk, the better this forest becomes," Holo said with a sigh of admiration, and Lawrence agreed with a nod. "This explains why those in the village do not attend to their fieldwork too diligently," she added.
"Hmm...It didn't really seem like the fields in the village were in that sorry a state, though. Is that really the case?"
"They do not think much of it. After all, the villagers can find all the food they want simply by wandering in the forest, so of course 'tis inevitable. Well, because of that, I am even more confounded as to why they quibble over how to deal with the forest. Losing this would put so many in dire straits."
Holo spoke as she followed a squirrel running atop a tree branch, and Lawrence responded.
"That's because the blessings of the forest aren't equal to everyone."
"Hmm?"
Holo, who had switched from straw to a stick, smacked at a tree root, perhaps because she was bored, as she turned back to Lawrence.
When he crouched down, he found some herbs that were useful in relieving fever, and since Beavery had told them they could take what they wanted from the woods, he readily gathered some.
"Herbs like this, mushrooms, and nuts are useful to everyone. But human activity is complicated."
Holo said nothing, but her eyes told him to continue.
As Lawrence walked beside her, he spoke.
"The blessings of the forest might be bountiful, but there are only so many things that can be changed into coins."
"Honey and such?"
"Yeah. I think that's the best example of food. You can sell ale and cider depending on what's available, but if the water in the area isn't any good, then they won't even consider it. And when you're so far away from civilization like this, shipping will cost time and money. Liquids are heavy, so transporting the freight will be the costliest part of the process. If the taste isn't truly excellent, then it'll barely stand a chance at the market."
Holo wore a pensive expression, perhaps because she was recalling her mercantile journey with Lawrence.
"Also, they could bring sheep and pigs from town to let them graze here, but distance is still the main problem at the end of the day."
Something happened right as he was speaking about that.
Holo suddenly stretched out her neck and looked deeper into the forest.
"What is it?"
"...The smell of coal."

Output:
"It's traces of the roasting that makes charcoal."
There was a small mound of dirt.
To make charcoal, firewood was usually piled together with wet leaves on the ground, then set on fire. This pile would be covered by dirt, leaving only a vent or pipe open in the middle to let the air through. After that, all they needed to do was to let it sit for a night or two.
"Everyone needs coal, but there are people who need it more than others."
"...A butcher, perhaps?"
Lawrence could not help but snort in amusement, which earned a glare from Holo.
"Sorry, sorry. Meat slowly grilled over coal is delicious."
Holo looked away in a huff and then dug up the remains of the charcoal mound with her stick.
"The people who use coal the most are blacksmiths."
"Ahhh...Those who constantly burn fuel in the woods, making metallic noises, no?"
"Those are probably much larger smithies. But yeah, something like that."
"So are they the ones asking for trees to be cut down?"
Holo's eyes turned to the wooden board he had in hand.
"Sometimes. Especially considering how expensive fuel is now, it makes sense that metal goods are also going up in price. With a forest as fertile as this, they might think of it as a good chance to get rich."
"How miserly."
"Don't let opportunity slip by, they say."
Holo huffed and then sighed.
"Generally, like I said before, it's hard to turn all the blessings the villagers are so lucky to receive from the forest into money. But that doesn't mean that those blessings can be shared with everybody."
The biggest moneymakers would be the woodcutters who would be the ones chopping down the trees and the cargo handlers who would carry the lumber. Next in line would be the charcoal burners and the blacksmiths. Of course, not all of them would be able to pocket their profits. They would naturally have to pay taxes to Beavery, and that would go into the village's savings.
But that would soon give birth to a pride that belonged only to those who had earned the village a great deal of money in the first place, and a distinct pecking order would come into existence.
Though they did not engage in moneymaking businesses, the hunters and gatherers who brought much-appreciated variety to the villagers' dinner tables and those who sweated in the fields would certainly not find that very amusing. What Beavery feared more than the devastation of the forest was unrest in the village.
"There has to be an easier way to make money."
"Mm." Holo closed her eyes, as though listening closely to her surroundings, then spoke. "Indeed. What about furs?"
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, and occasionally wolf furs lined the stalls at the market. It was a delicate subject, but Holo was the one who had brought it up, so he had to answer.
"Furs are one of the very few things that can be exchanged for money, but...most of the hunters agree with cutting down the trees."
Holo furrowed her brow.
"It'd be easier for them to chase their prey, so they want the trees gone."
***
Holo dropped her shoulders in astonishment and whacked a tree trunk with the stick she held.
"Humans are nothing but fools."
"But the furriers are against cutting down the trees, so I guess they just balance each other out."
"...Hmm?"
Holo seemed perplexed. She likely did not understand why the furriers would be opposed to it.
The more animals the hunters hunted, the more work the furriers got.
Lawrence explained the workings of the human world to her.
"You need to tan hides and fur, right? So they need a place deep in the woods for that. That's why...Oh, right. I guess that's what they mean by beware of bees."
When he looked at the trees growing around them, he realized something.
"Oh, well. I guess it's not the kind of bees that you want to see."
"Blech...The kind that swarm over cows?"
She was talking about the bloodsucking botfly. It seemed like it was only the insects that escaped the control of the wolves, the kings of the forest. Holo wore an expression of disgust.


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

Input:
"It's traces of the roasting that makes charcoal."
There was a small mound of dirt.
To make charcoal, firewood was usually piled together with wet leaves on the ground, then set on fire. This pile would be covered by dirt, leaving only a vent or pipe open in the middle to let the air through. After that, all they needed to do was to let it sit for a night or two.
"Everyone needs coal, but there are people who need it more than others."
"...A butcher, perhaps?"
Lawrence could not help but snort in amusement, which earned a glare from Holo.
"Sorry, sorry. Meat slowly grilled over coal is delicious."
Holo looked away in a huff and then dug up the remains of the charcoal mound with her stick.
"The people who use coal the most are blacksmiths."
"Ahhh...Those who constantly burn fuel in the woods, making metallic noises, no?"
"Those are probably much larger smithies. But yeah, something like that."
"So are they the ones asking for trees to be cut down?"
Holo's eyes turned to the wooden board he had in hand.
"Sometimes. Especially considering how expensive fuel is now, it makes sense that metal goods are also going up in price. With a forest as fertile as this, they might think of it as a good chance to get rich."
"How miserly."
"Don't let opportunity slip by, they say."
Holo huffed and then sighed.
"Generally, like I said before, it's hard to turn all the blessings the villagers are so lucky to receive from the forest into money. But that doesn't mean that those blessings can be shared with everybody."
The biggest moneymakers would be the woodcutters who would be the ones chopping down the trees and the cargo handlers who would carry the lumber. Next in line would be the charcoal burners and the blacksmiths. Of course, not all of them would be able to pocket their profits. They would naturally have to pay taxes to Beavery, and that would go into the village's savings.
But that would soon give birth to a pride that belonged only to those who had earned the village a great deal of money in the first place, and a distinct pecking order would come into existence.
Though they did not engage in moneymaking businesses, the hunters and gatherers who brought much-appreciated variety to the villagers' dinner tables and those who sweated in the fields would certainly not find that very amusing. What Beavery feared more than the devastation of the forest was unrest in the village.
"There has to be an easier way to make money."
"Mm." Holo closed her eyes, as though listening closely to her surroundings, then spoke. "Indeed. What about furs?"
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, and occasionally wolf furs lined the stalls at the market. It was a delicate subject, but Holo was the one who had brought it up, so he had to answer.
"Furs are one of the very few things that can be exchanged for money, but...most of the hunters agree with cutting down the trees."
Holo furrowed her brow.
"It'd be easier for them to chase their prey, so they want the trees gone."
***
Holo dropped her shoulders in astonishment and whacked a tree trunk with the stick she held.
"Humans are nothing but fools."
"But the furriers are against cutting down the trees, so I guess they just balance each other out."
"...Hmm?"
Holo seemed perplexed. She likely did not understand why the furriers would be opposed to it.
The more animals the hunters hunted, the more work the furriers got.
Lawrence explained the workings of the human world to her.
"You need to tan hides and fur, right? So they need a place deep in the woods for that. That's why...Oh, right. I guess that's what they mean by beware of bees."
When he looked at the trees growing around them, he realized something.
"Oh, well. I guess it's not the kind of bees that you want to see."
"Blech...The kind that swarm over cows?"
She was talking about the bloodsucking botfly. It seemed like it was only the insects that escaped the control of the wolves, the kings of the forest. Holo wore an expression of disgust.

Output:
"'Tis...not that? Bees that collect syrup? Those are everywhere."
The beehive they had acquired not too long ago was also a collection of nectar from trees full of sap.
But insects used trees in various ways.
"The kind that build their homes inside the trees. Haven't you seen the weird seeds growing on the trees?"
Holo looked at him blankly, then nodded vaguely.
"Aye...occasionally. The kind that grow directly from the tree branches, no? But to call those 'seeds'...they are odd gnarls in the wood. They are not meant for eating."
She stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her face; maybe she had eaten one before.
"Those grow because that's where the bees lay their eggs. It's a cradle, you could say."
Holo, who was so disgusted by insects parasitically devouring other insects that it made her cry, went pale as she learned that fact. But since she also sang praises about how delicious bee larva was, her curiosity seemed to win out.
"And? What does that have to do with furs?"
"Plenty. Furriers cut off those knobs, steep them in water, and boil the stuff, then tan the hides with the resulting liquid."
"Ohhh. And so...I see. A stack of furs is wonderful but not without any material to tan it with."
"Exactly. And fur is one of the few goods that can be readily sold for cash. It's the greatest influence in this village when it comes to saving the forest."
Holo nodded and looked at him as though they had finally seen the light, but she then seemed to notice something.
"But, dear, between the furs and the lumber, which will produce the most money?"
He expected nothing less from the wisewolf—no, from the wife of a former merchant.
"Definitely the lumber, without a doubt."
Holo huffed, disappointed, and tossed away her stick.
Then, as she looked around her, she folded her arms almost like she was the ruler of the forest. Even she understood that the promise of gaining a bigger profit held more weight.
"But like I said this morning, we need your wisdom."
They had come into the forest with the ray of hope that they might find something of monetary value rivaling lumber that could support the furriers' position, but it was not going so well.
Just as Lawrence knew the ins and outs of a market, the villagers here had been living alongside this forest ever since they were born. It would have been arrogant to think that he alone might notice something that they had not.
"Hmm...I can speak to the merits of keeping the forest whole and the ill effects that would come from knocking down the trees..."
"That, or we could peel away a layer off you."
When Lawrence said that, Holo pouted and her ears and tail swayed in discontent.
"'Tis this current form of mine that has no layers to peel back."
"Then, maybe it'd be more accurate to say that we should put another layer of fur on you?"
Holo's true identity was that of a massive, towering wolf. If the villagers caught a glimpse of her enormous shadow and heard her howling at the moon, the king of the dark forests might be able to strike some fear into them.
If they feared her anger, then it was possible they might also refrain from touching the trees in the forest.
"...But I shall be troubled if a weak little girl or some other gets sent into the forest. I cannot always come here to this wood."


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

Input:
"'Tis...not that? Bees that collect syrup? Those are everywhere."
The beehive they had acquired not too long ago was also a collection of nectar from trees full of sap.
But insects used trees in various ways.
"The kind that build their homes inside the trees. Haven't you seen the weird seeds growing on the trees?"
Holo looked at him blankly, then nodded vaguely.
"Aye...occasionally. The kind that grow directly from the tree branches, no? But to call those 'seeds'...they are odd gnarls in the wood. They are not meant for eating."
She stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her face; maybe she had eaten one before.
"Those grow because that's where the bees lay their eggs. It's a cradle, you could say."
Holo, who was so disgusted by insects parasitically devouring other insects that it made her cry, went pale as she learned that fact. But since she also sang praises about how delicious bee larva was, her curiosity seemed to win out.
"And? What does that have to do with furs?"
"Plenty. Furriers cut off those knobs, steep them in water, and boil the stuff, then tan the hides with the resulting liquid."
"Ohhh. And so...I see. A stack of furs is wonderful but not without any material to tan it with."
"Exactly. And fur is one of the few goods that can be readily sold for cash. It's the greatest influence in this village when it comes to saving the forest."
Holo nodded and looked at him as though they had finally seen the light, but she then seemed to notice something.
"But, dear, between the furs and the lumber, which will produce the most money?"
He expected nothing less from the wisewolf—no, from the wife of a former merchant.
"Definitely the lumber, without a doubt."
Holo huffed, disappointed, and tossed away her stick.
Then, as she looked around her, she folded her arms almost like she was the ruler of the forest. Even she understood that the promise of gaining a bigger profit held more weight.
"But like I said this morning, we need your wisdom."
They had come into the forest with the ray of hope that they might find something of monetary value rivaling lumber that could support the furriers' position, but it was not going so well.
Just as Lawrence knew the ins and outs of a market, the villagers here had been living alongside this forest ever since they were born. It would have been arrogant to think that he alone might notice something that they had not.
"Hmm...I can speak to the merits of keeping the forest whole and the ill effects that would come from knocking down the trees..."
"That, or we could peel away a layer off you."
When Lawrence said that, Holo pouted and her ears and tail swayed in discontent.
"'Tis this current form of mine that has no layers to peel back."
"Then, maybe it'd be more accurate to say that we should put another layer of fur on you?"
Holo's true identity was that of a massive, towering wolf. If the villagers caught a glimpse of her enormous shadow and heard her howling at the moon, the king of the dark forests might be able to strike some fear into them.
If they feared her anger, then it was possible they might also refrain from touching the trees in the forest.
"...But I shall be troubled if a weak little girl or some other gets sent into the forest. I cannot always come here to this wood."

Output:
"Eloquence is rather your specialty, is it not?"
He didn't want to hear that from Holo, who begged for food using all sorts of tricks, and apparently, it showed on his face.
Holo approached him, very deliberately stepped on his foot, then walked a few paces away and crossed her arms.
"'Tis your specialty, is it not?"
"Yes, it is," he responded with a sigh as he groaned.
"Mmmm...It just comes down to money, doesn't it...? I can't believe it's such a rich forest, and none of it is worth any money..."
The villagers in Beavery's territory had also likely heard the rumors, but if anyone headed south down the river, they would easily see the current state of the world for themselves. Everywhere, trade was erupting, and all the lumber that people needed to fuel their businesses was being sent down the river. It would be more unusual to not think about taking part and sharing in those gains.
Lawrence personally thought that it would be fine if they ruined a small part of the forest, cutting down some trees to earn some money.
The reason he did not say that out loud was for Holo's sake.
She had a short temper whenever it came to the woods, and the greater reason he offered to help Beavery in the first place was to get a small share of ink and paper so she could continue to write about their journey.
And of course, the ever-shrewd Holo had not forgotten that.
The wind blew through the trees, and after spending a moment staring up at the swaying canopy hanging above them, Holo spoke.
"I cannot fight against large currents, either. If the human world wishes for shiny coins, then I cannot go against them."
"Holo?"
"And one requires silver and gold to write, no? In that case, I cannot think it right to stand in the way of villagers who wish to make some money. They have things they want, just as I do."
Naturally, the people of the village were not intending to sell lumber so they could buy luxuries. They simply did not want to miss the good opportunity to gain some valuable coins.
If the village built up their savings, then they could have the option of leaving the village during a crop failure to buy produce in a nearby town, and they could secure the metal tools they needed for their forest and farmwork. Or perhaps they could set up a new water mill at the creek nearby. Money directly improved these people's lives and made them richer.
Just as the scripture said that people could not live on bread alone, the villagers could not cover everything with the blessings of the earth alone.
Holo stood limply by the charcoal-burning remains, as though she, too, had been burned to ashes.
"I thought I had given up on protecting the forests such a long, long time ago," Holo said with a bitter smile and came to Lawrence's side.
Instead of stomping on his foot, she grasped his hand.
"Just as you found it difficult to start a fire and now grip the reins too tightly after setting off on your first journey in years, I, too, have steeped in the baths for too long and have forgotten about the ways of the world."
Sometimes, one simply had to pretend to look away when the world did not turn out as one hoped.
Both Lawrence, who had walked the path of a merchant, and Holo, who had no choice but to stand by and watch as the times changed, were keenly aware of this.
Lawrence gripped Holo's small hand in return, leaned over, and kissed the base of her wolf ears.
"At the very least, Beavery is a kind lord. He probably won't go overboard as the ruler of this land."
"...Mm."
Holo nodded, and like a clingy cat, she pressed her face into his chest.
The wishes of Holo and Lord Beavery, who both prayed for the peace of the forest, could not come true.
Lord Beavery was a compassionate man—if Lawrence apologized perfectly and presented him with that massive beehive as an apology, then he might still share some ink and paper.
When his train of thought got that far, inspiration struck him.


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

Input:
"Eloquence is rather your specialty, is it not?"
He didn't want to hear that from Holo, who begged for food using all sorts of tricks, and apparently, it showed on his face.
Holo approached him, very deliberately stepped on his foot, then walked a few paces away and crossed her arms.
"'Tis your specialty, is it not?"
"Yes, it is," he responded with a sigh as he groaned.
"Mmmm...It just comes down to money, doesn't it...? I can't believe it's such a rich forest, and none of it is worth any money..."
The villagers in Beavery's territory had also likely heard the rumors, but if anyone headed south down the river, they would easily see the current state of the world for themselves. Everywhere, trade was erupting, and all the lumber that people needed to fuel their businesses was being sent down the river. It would be more unusual to not think about taking part and sharing in those gains.
Lawrence personally thought that it would be fine if they ruined a small part of the forest, cutting down some trees to earn some money.
The reason he did not say that out loud was for Holo's sake.
She had a short temper whenever it came to the woods, and the greater reason he offered to help Beavery in the first place was to get a small share of ink and paper so she could continue to write about their journey.
And of course, the ever-shrewd Holo had not forgotten that.
The wind blew through the trees, and after spending a moment staring up at the swaying canopy hanging above them, Holo spoke.
"I cannot fight against large currents, either. If the human world wishes for shiny coins, then I cannot go against them."
"Holo?"
"And one requires silver and gold to write, no? In that case, I cannot think it right to stand in the way of villagers who wish to make some money. They have things they want, just as I do."
Naturally, the people of the village were not intending to sell lumber so they could buy luxuries. They simply did not want to miss the good opportunity to gain some valuable coins.
If the village built up their savings, then they could have the option of leaving the village during a crop failure to buy produce in a nearby town, and they could secure the metal tools they needed for their forest and farmwork. Or perhaps they could set up a new water mill at the creek nearby. Money directly improved these people's lives and made them richer.
Just as the scripture said that people could not live on bread alone, the villagers could not cover everything with the blessings of the earth alone.
Holo stood limply by the charcoal-burning remains, as though she, too, had been burned to ashes.
"I thought I had given up on protecting the forests such a long, long time ago," Holo said with a bitter smile and came to Lawrence's side.
Instead of stomping on his foot, she grasped his hand.
"Just as you found it difficult to start a fire and now grip the reins too tightly after setting off on your first journey in years, I, too, have steeped in the baths for too long and have forgotten about the ways of the world."
Sometimes, one simply had to pretend to look away when the world did not turn out as one hoped.
Both Lawrence, who had walked the path of a merchant, and Holo, who had no choice but to stand by and watch as the times changed, were keenly aware of this.
Lawrence gripped Holo's small hand in return, leaned over, and kissed the base of her wolf ears.
"At the very least, Beavery is a kind lord. He probably won't go overboard as the ruler of this land."
"...Mm."
Holo nodded, and like a clingy cat, she pressed her face into his chest.
The wishes of Holo and Lord Beavery, who both prayed for the peace of the forest, could not come true.
Lord Beavery was a compassionate man—if Lawrence apologized perfectly and presented him with that massive beehive as an apology, then he might still share some ink and paper.
When his train of thought got that far, inspiration struck him.

Output:
Either way, there were not many people who could read and write in such a remote country town.
If it was all just going to rot away, unused, then they should have at least thought about exchanging it for money.
To make up for failing in the request he so readily accepted, it might be better if Lawrence could turn that into silver.
When he explained all that, Holo smiled wryly.
"Even if you fell over, you would not get up for free."
"I am a merchant, after all," he said in a joking manner, and Holo chuckled, then sighed.
"Then first, we must go to apologize, yes? We may not be having any delicious meat tonight."
"Could you write down your memories of our trip on some tree bark for now, like on this board? We'll buy some paper and ink when we get the chance."
"Mm. Or would that charcoal there be of any use?"
When Holo said that, Lawrence looked to the remains.
"Charcoal alone would blur immediately. I've seen it being used as a substitute for ink by mixing it with glue, but in order to make glue, you need to boil bones and animal tendons for a long time. And then you also need trees from the forest...or something like that."
"Well, 'tis no help at all!"
Lawrence could not help but smile at Holo's deliberate yell.
"But, dear," she said. "Then how is the ink I always use made?"
"Hmm? Well, you boil these nubs from trees that are shaped like seeds called gallnuts. These nubs are also used to tan hide...Huh?"
"Oh?"
Both Holo and Lawrence looked at each other.
"Dear," Holo said, and a taut smile crossed Lawrence's face.
"...The knowledge might be in my head, but I can't always take it out at will."
"Much like your purse."
They're not the same, is what he wanted to say, but he could not help but smile when he saw Holo's eyes glittering with anticipation and her tail swishing back and forth.
"The villagers probably haven't noticed the possibility, either."
The only one who could read and write was the landowner Beavery. Or perhaps Beavery himself could not even do it. It was a common thing for places far away from towns, so there was not much they could do if the idea had not been in their heads to begin with.
"They said that ink had gotten rather expensive because of little Col and Myuri, no?"
"Yeah. And you need a dense forest in order to guarantee a lot of gnarls on the trees."
"Dear." Holo grinned.
The world was occasionally like this, too.
"This idea will protect the forest while still being useful to the villagers at the same time. If they can produce a lot of the expensive ink, then they can make more money for a much longer time than from lumber, which stops being useful once the tree's cut."
"And it means ink for me!"
Lawrence left the forest side by side with Holo, told Beavery of the sequence of events and how to make ink and its price range. Ink was an excellent product where a small amount brought in a large sum of money; unlike alcohol, they could expect plenty of profit even after taking it to faraway places, and even children could gather and process the gallnuts. It was hard to differentiate between the people who could and could not contribute to earning money, so they could avoid the creation of an odd discord within the village.
"I expected nothing less from the renowned Sir Lawrence!"
Beavery treated him with excessive acclaim and lined their dinner table that night with another fabulous meal.
Holo wrote down right away what they had to eat that day with the ink Beavery gave her, and when Lawrence peeked at her writing as she dozed off in her seat from all the alcohol, he saw his name and the sentence, The fool is sometimes of use.
"You can leave the fool part out."
Lawrence smiled wryly, scooping Holo up from where she dozed in her chair, and carried her to bed.
Once he put the eternal princess to bed, he returned to the moonlit bundles of paper.
These would be filled with even more words in the future.
Sometimes the stories would be exciting and sometimes not so exciting.


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

Input:
Either way, there were not many people who could read and write in such a remote country town.
If it was all just going to rot away, unused, then they should have at least thought about exchanging it for money.
To make up for failing in the request he so readily accepted, it might be better if Lawrence could turn that into silver.
When he explained all that, Holo smiled wryly.
"Even if you fell over, you would not get up for free."
"I am a merchant, after all," he said in a joking manner, and Holo chuckled, then sighed.
"Then first, we must go to apologize, yes? We may not be having any delicious meat tonight."
"Could you write down your memories of our trip on some tree bark for now, like on this board? We'll buy some paper and ink when we get the chance."
"Mm. Or would that charcoal there be of any use?"
When Holo said that, Lawrence looked to the remains.
"Charcoal alone would blur immediately. I've seen it being used as a substitute for ink by mixing it with glue, but in order to make glue, you need to boil bones and animal tendons for a long time. And then you also need trees from the forest...or something like that."
"Well, 'tis no help at all!"
Lawrence could not help but smile at Holo's deliberate yell.
"But, dear," she said. "Then how is the ink I always use made?"
"Hmm? Well, you boil these nubs from trees that are shaped like seeds called gallnuts. These nubs are also used to tan hide...Huh?"
"Oh?"
Both Holo and Lawrence looked at each other.
"Dear," Holo said, and a taut smile crossed Lawrence's face.
"...The knowledge might be in my head, but I can't always take it out at will."
"Much like your purse."
They're not the same, is what he wanted to say, but he could not help but smile when he saw Holo's eyes glittering with anticipation and her tail swishing back and forth.
"The villagers probably haven't noticed the possibility, either."
The only one who could read and write was the landowner Beavery. Or perhaps Beavery himself could not even do it. It was a common thing for places far away from towns, so there was not much they could do if the idea had not been in their heads to begin with.
"They said that ink had gotten rather expensive because of little Col and Myuri, no?"
"Yeah. And you need a dense forest in order to guarantee a lot of gnarls on the trees."
"Dear." Holo grinned.
The world was occasionally like this, too.
"This idea will protect the forest while still being useful to the villagers at the same time. If they can produce a lot of the expensive ink, then they can make more money for a much longer time than from lumber, which stops being useful once the tree's cut."
"And it means ink for me!"
Lawrence left the forest side by side with Holo, told Beavery of the sequence of events and how to make ink and its price range. Ink was an excellent product where a small amount brought in a large sum of money; unlike alcohol, they could expect plenty of profit even after taking it to faraway places, and even children could gather and process the gallnuts. It was hard to differentiate between the people who could and could not contribute to earning money, so they could avoid the creation of an odd discord within the village.
"I expected nothing less from the renowned Sir Lawrence!"
Beavery treated him with excessive acclaim and lined their dinner table that night with another fabulous meal.
Holo wrote down right away what they had to eat that day with the ink Beavery gave her, and when Lawrence peeked at her writing as she dozed off in her seat from all the alcohol, he saw his name and the sentence, The fool is sometimes of use.
"You can leave the fool part out."
Lawrence smiled wryly, scooping Holo up from where she dozed in her chair, and carried her to bed.
Once he put the eternal princess to bed, he returned to the moonlit bundles of paper.
These would be filled with even more words in the future.
Sometimes the stories would be exciting and sometimes not so exciting.

Output:
He closed it, just as though he was closing a book.
That was only one scene of their long, long journey.
***
The breeze that day was slightly chilly.
It had been almost two weeks since they left behind the hot spring village of Nyohhira to go on their trip. Since it had been over ten years since the former merchant Lawrence had last traveled, he stumbled a bit at the beginning, but he had finally gotten his traveling senses back.
The winding mountain roads had come to an end, leaving them on a road that crossed a flat plain with nothing to obstruct their view, and they were fully enjoying the mundanity of travel.
"Yaaaaaawn."
But the source of that massive yawn was not Lawrence. Behind him was Holo, his partner, lying across a pile of blankets in the cart bed. She had been enjoying some elegant sunbathing the whole day.
"Dear, are we...yaaawn...there yet...?"
The air was chilly, suggestive of autumn, but the sunshine on the fields around them still carried hints of summer.
Nothing could compare to how nice it felt to have the cool breeze caress his cheek after sweating slightly from the sun.
Holo, who would take naps whenever she had the chance even in Nyohhira, was relaxing as she pleased.
But today, she was especially lax, rolling about on her blankets like a house pet.
The reason for that could be found in the barrel she held.
She had scooped out some honey from the beehive they just so happened to get in the forest a few days ago and had added it to her wine. She then placed the cask under the blankets, and after a few days, her ready-to-drink mead was complete.
She had woken up rather early today and quickly undid the stopper on the cask she had put away. Once she grew tipsy enough after lapping up some of the mead, she would doze off, then lap up some more once she woke, repeating that over and over.
It was the height of luxury.
"Almost. Once we merge with the highway, there will be more people passing us. Be careful."
"Fool...I am not that much of...a..."
The rest of her sentence vanished in her mumbles. Lawrence glanced over his shoulder to see Holo had fallen asleep faceup, mouth half-open.
Holo looked like a girl of fourteen or fifteen if she kept her mouth shut, but this slovenly attitude also suited her. It was almost poetic how her flaxen-colored hair glittered in the sunlight and her bangs rustled softly in the wind.
But if that were all, then they would have had no reason to mind the gazes of others. She would have simply been an energetic girl enjoying her travels.
The problem was that unfortunately, Holo was not just any girl.
It was not only her beautiful flaxen hair that shone in the sun and danced in the wind. She had large, triangular wolf ears on her head and a tail with thick fur and a beautiful lay grew from her rear.
Holo was the avatar of a wolf who resided in wheat, whose true form was massive, and who would live in dignity for centuries.
At least...that was what she called herself.
"Good grief..."
Lawrence sighed when he saw her innocent sleeping face, but he could not help a corner of his mouth raising in a smile.
She called herself the wisewolf, and her wisdom and insight were truly impressive, but when she acted silly like this, he grew weak.
"What a handful."
He mumbled to himself with a wry smile, and he was not sure exactly who that was meant for.
Lawrence shrugged, and when he took a piece of jerky from the small linen bag beside him and placed it in his mouth, his eyes dropped to the bundle of paper spread open below it. The pages were jam-packed with writing about their daily occurrences, written by Holo, who was snoozing in the back, who worked hard every day to pen everything.


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

Input:
He closed it, just as though he was closing a book.
That was only one scene of their long, long journey.
***
The breeze that day was slightly chilly.
It had been almost two weeks since they left behind the hot spring village of Nyohhira to go on their trip. Since it had been over ten years since the former merchant Lawrence had last traveled, he stumbled a bit at the beginning, but he had finally gotten his traveling senses back.
The winding mountain roads had come to an end, leaving them on a road that crossed a flat plain with nothing to obstruct their view, and they were fully enjoying the mundanity of travel.
"Yaaaaaawn."
But the source of that massive yawn was not Lawrence. Behind him was Holo, his partner, lying across a pile of blankets in the cart bed. She had been enjoying some elegant sunbathing the whole day.
"Dear, are we...yaaawn...there yet...?"
The air was chilly, suggestive of autumn, but the sunshine on the fields around them still carried hints of summer.
Nothing could compare to how nice it felt to have the cool breeze caress his cheek after sweating slightly from the sun.
Holo, who would take naps whenever she had the chance even in Nyohhira, was relaxing as she pleased.
But today, she was especially lax, rolling about on her blankets like a house pet.
The reason for that could be found in the barrel she held.
She had scooped out some honey from the beehive they just so happened to get in the forest a few days ago and had added it to her wine. She then placed the cask under the blankets, and after a few days, her ready-to-drink mead was complete.
She had woken up rather early today and quickly undid the stopper on the cask she had put away. Once she grew tipsy enough after lapping up some of the mead, she would doze off, then lap up some more once she woke, repeating that over and over.
It was the height of luxury.
"Almost. Once we merge with the highway, there will be more people passing us. Be careful."
"Fool...I am not that much of...a..."
The rest of her sentence vanished in her mumbles. Lawrence glanced over his shoulder to see Holo had fallen asleep faceup, mouth half-open.
Holo looked like a girl of fourteen or fifteen if she kept her mouth shut, but this slovenly attitude also suited her. It was almost poetic how her flaxen-colored hair glittered in the sunlight and her bangs rustled softly in the wind.
But if that were all, then they would have had no reason to mind the gazes of others. She would have simply been an energetic girl enjoying her travels.
The problem was that unfortunately, Holo was not just any girl.
It was not only her beautiful flaxen hair that shone in the sun and danced in the wind. She had large, triangular wolf ears on her head and a tail with thick fur and a beautiful lay grew from her rear.
Holo was the avatar of a wolf who resided in wheat, whose true form was massive, and who would live in dignity for centuries.
At least...that was what she called herself.
"Good grief..."
Lawrence sighed when he saw her innocent sleeping face, but he could not help a corner of his mouth raising in a smile.
She called herself the wisewolf, and her wisdom and insight were truly impressive, but when she acted silly like this, he grew weak.
"What a handful."
He mumbled to himself with a wry smile, and he was not sure exactly who that was meant for.
Lawrence shrugged, and when he took a piece of jerky from the small linen bag beside him and placed it in his mouth, his eyes dropped to the bundle of paper spread open below it. The pages were jam-packed with writing about their daily occurrences, written by Holo, who was snoozing in the back, who worked hard every day to pen everything.

Output:
Holo had eagerly taken on the project since then, and of course Lawrence should have been happy about that, but there was a hard point to settle.
Holo had evidently come to enjoy writing on its own, so she grew pleased with writing about imaginary days that never happened. It was like the hobby of a dreamy noble girl who lived in a monastery, and when she did things like that, she used up her stationery in an instant.
Not too long ago, she had run out of ink and paper. Luckily, at the time, there was a lord they had just so happened to meet who was generous enough to share some with them. Lawrence could not even begin to guess how much she was going to make him buy down the road.
While he was willing to do anything he could for her, at his core, Lawrence was a merchant. He could not help but look at a huge stack of papers and immediately think of the equivalent stack of silver coins.
But he also understood how Holo felt as she scribbled away. Memories were hazy things, and no matter how many words she used to put something on paper, it was impossible to record exactly how pleasant an afternoon nap was in its entirety.
Lawrence wanted to let her do as she pleased so she could at least gather some of those fragments together.
In the end, Holo would be left alone in the flow of time.
When he thought of that, Lawrence found another murmur slipping from his lips.
"There has to be a better way."
He meant that both in the way of being able to collect more memories but also in an economical sense.
As he contemplated all that, he saw a notice board standing at the end of the flat road.
It was a signpost that marked its intersection with the highway, and it also meant they were close to their destination.
Commotion would erupt if people saw Holo's ears and tail.
Lawrence turned around to face the cart bed to wake the sleeping princess.
"Hey, Ho—"
"Town?!"
Lawrence flew back in surprise when Holo energetically leaped up; the horse, feeling its reins pulled, whinnied in discontent.
Holo, however, paid no mind in the slightest and pulled the hood on her robe up, and then she leaped from the cart to the driver's perch.
There had been no time to put away the pouch that sat next to Lawrence. Holo snatched it up, and the jerky found its way into her mouth.
"'Tis been quite a while since our last big town. We must eat as much delicious food as we can!"
Only a few days had passed since they feasted on the mountain's bounty at a long banquet table while visiting a lord's manor, and she had been drinking her fresh, luxurious mead all day, but...he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn't change a thing.
And when he saw how merry she was, Lawrence lost the will to be cross with her.
Lawrence smiled with a sigh, readjusted himself on the driver's perch, and gripped the reins.
He could not control the heartless flow of time.
That was why, at the very least, he would carefully drive the cart for the one he loved.
They headed straight west from the mountain hot spring village of Nyohhira and followed the river downstream.
At the end of their path would be the port town of Atiph, home to a cathedral and an archbishop and large enough to be considered the biggest town in the area.
It was a historic place that had once been the front line in the war with the pagans, and it also acted as a gatekeeper so that pirates from the northern islands could not attack the heart of the continent.
Holdovers from that past were still visible as the massive spires rising high above both sides of the river could be seen throughout the town. Strung between them was a huge chain that would drop into the river at times of emergency to stop pirate ships from going upstream.
After passing through inspection at the city walls, Lawrence explained all that, but Holo's attention was stolen by the food in the stalls as she gave vague responses.
"Maybe you'd listen to me if I put that chain around your neck."


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

Input:
Holo had eagerly taken on the project since then, and of course Lawrence should have been happy about that, but there was a hard point to settle.
Holo had evidently come to enjoy writing on its own, so she grew pleased with writing about imaginary days that never happened. It was like the hobby of a dreamy noble girl who lived in a monastery, and when she did things like that, she used up her stationery in an instant.
Not too long ago, she had run out of ink and paper. Luckily, at the time, there was a lord they had just so happened to meet who was generous enough to share some with them. Lawrence could not even begin to guess how much she was going to make him buy down the road.
While he was willing to do anything he could for her, at his core, Lawrence was a merchant. He could not help but look at a huge stack of papers and immediately think of the equivalent stack of silver coins.
But he also understood how Holo felt as she scribbled away. Memories were hazy things, and no matter how many words she used to put something on paper, it was impossible to record exactly how pleasant an afternoon nap was in its entirety.
Lawrence wanted to let her do as she pleased so she could at least gather some of those fragments together.
In the end, Holo would be left alone in the flow of time.
When he thought of that, Lawrence found another murmur slipping from his lips.
"There has to be a better way."
He meant that both in the way of being able to collect more memories but also in an economical sense.
As he contemplated all that, he saw a notice board standing at the end of the flat road.
It was a signpost that marked its intersection with the highway, and it also meant they were close to their destination.
Commotion would erupt if people saw Holo's ears and tail.
Lawrence turned around to face the cart bed to wake the sleeping princess.
"Hey, Ho—"
"Town?!"
Lawrence flew back in surprise when Holo energetically leaped up; the horse, feeling its reins pulled, whinnied in discontent.
Holo, however, paid no mind in the slightest and pulled the hood on her robe up, and then she leaped from the cart to the driver's perch.
There had been no time to put away the pouch that sat next to Lawrence. Holo snatched it up, and the jerky found its way into her mouth.
"'Tis been quite a while since our last big town. We must eat as much delicious food as we can!"
Only a few days had passed since they feasted on the mountain's bounty at a long banquet table while visiting a lord's manor, and she had been drinking her fresh, luxurious mead all day, but...he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn't change a thing.
And when he saw how merry she was, Lawrence lost the will to be cross with her.
Lawrence smiled with a sigh, readjusted himself on the driver's perch, and gripped the reins.
He could not control the heartless flow of time.
That was why, at the very least, he would carefully drive the cart for the one he loved.
They headed straight west from the mountain hot spring village of Nyohhira and followed the river downstream.
At the end of their path would be the port town of Atiph, home to a cathedral and an archbishop and large enough to be considered the biggest town in the area.
It was a historic place that had once been the front line in the war with the pagans, and it also acted as a gatekeeper so that pirates from the northern islands could not attack the heart of the continent.
Holdovers from that past were still visible as the massive spires rising high above both sides of the river could be seen throughout the town. Strung between them was a huge chain that would drop into the river at times of emergency to stop pirate ships from going upstream.
After passing through inspection at the city walls, Lawrence explained all that, but Holo's attention was stolen by the food in the stalls as she gave vague responses.
"Maybe you'd listen to me if I put that chain around your neck."

Output:
"So what sort of special dishes may we find here?"
"Sheesh...," Lawrence responded as he rubbed his foot. "Fish, of course. This place is crammed to the brim with fresh raw fish. Especially at this time of year, now that it's starting to get cold, all the fish are super fatty and delicious. All the salt-grilled, deep-fried, and boiled fish would be good, too."
"Fiiish?"
Holo said it with a slight objection, almost as though she wanted to say that wolves and fish did not go together.
"You can't just say you don't like it. Oh yeah, there's been word about an interesting trade here in this town regarding herring. Do you want to go see?"
"No. I shan't look at cured herring ever again."
For people living in the deep mountains—catches from local rivers aside—the fish people would commonly find on their tables would be, without question, cured salted herring. Herring were so abundant that it was often said that sticking a sword in the sea would be more than enough to catch a whole cluster of them, so even those living in the deepest of mountain regions could get them cheaply.
It was a precious fish that supported a great many people throughout the world, but because of that, everyone grew bored of it.
"Herring is pretty good when it's not cured."
"...This is how you are scheming to fill my belly with cheap fish, I see," Holo said, looking at him with suspicion.
She grew greedy when it came to food, so Lawrence could do nothing but shrug.
That being said, herring was still cheaper than any sort of meat.
Lawrence cleared his throat.
"Let's say you prepare plenty of oil in a pot."
"...Hmm?"
"First you put the heat on low, and then you put in a gutted fish, head and all. Then it should start making a slight fizzing noise."
Holo looked at him doubtfully, wondering what he was talking about, but Lawrence paid her no mind and continued speaking.
"Just as you can tell that it's finally starting to cook through, you add more firewood into the fire. The oil will get hotter and hotter, and then it'll start making a really pleasant sizzling sound."
Holo was completely enraptured by Lawrence's story, and she audibly gulped.
"When you fry it until it's crisp and crunchy, you can eat it to the bone. You then scoop it from the oil and sprinkle some salt over it just as it starts to burst open..."
He mimed sprinkling salt with his fingers, and Holo's gaze darted to them, like a cat being offered a treat.
"Then you bite into the head."
Holo's tail sprang up, almost enough to lift the hem of her clothes.
"There's no greater enjoyment than tasting the sweet oil dripping down your lips along with the rock salt and then washing it down with some cool ale...Ow, ow!"
"We must go right now. Herring, yes? They are in peak season now, are they not?!"
Holo had a tight grip on his muscles through his clothes, and he somehow managed to peel her off.
It seemed like his strategy of filling her up with cheap herring was working, but it was working a little too well.
"Before we do that, we need to head to the Debau Company to confirm our destination and reserve a boat. The seasons are changing now, so the hold will be stuffed full of merchant and material transport. We'll have to wait until winter if we don't hurry."
Unlike his time as a traveling merchant, Lawrence and Holo now had a place to return to. Their hot spring in Nyohhira was currently in the hands of someone else, so they could not take too leisurely of a trip.
And so, even though he had not said that out of spite, Lawrence found himself cut off in the middle of speaking.
Holo's eyes were swimming as she bit her lower lip.
"...Fine, fine. I'll go on ahead to the company, so you take this and buy as much as you want."


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

Input:
"So what sort of special dishes may we find here?"
"Sheesh...," Lawrence responded as he rubbed his foot. "Fish, of course. This place is crammed to the brim with fresh raw fish. Especially at this time of year, now that it's starting to get cold, all the fish are super fatty and delicious. All the salt-grilled, deep-fried, and boiled fish would be good, too."
"Fiiish?"
Holo said it with a slight objection, almost as though she wanted to say that wolves and fish did not go together.
"You can't just say you don't like it. Oh yeah, there's been word about an interesting trade here in this town regarding herring. Do you want to go see?"
"No. I shan't look at cured herring ever again."
For people living in the deep mountains—catches from local rivers aside—the fish people would commonly find on their tables would be, without question, cured salted herring. Herring were so abundant that it was often said that sticking a sword in the sea would be more than enough to catch a whole cluster of them, so even those living in the deepest of mountain regions could get them cheaply.
It was a precious fish that supported a great many people throughout the world, but because of that, everyone grew bored of it.
"Herring is pretty good when it's not cured."
"...This is how you are scheming to fill my belly with cheap fish, I see," Holo said, looking at him with suspicion.
She grew greedy when it came to food, so Lawrence could do nothing but shrug.
That being said, herring was still cheaper than any sort of meat.
Lawrence cleared his throat.
"Let's say you prepare plenty of oil in a pot."
"...Hmm?"
"First you put the heat on low, and then you put in a gutted fish, head and all. Then it should start making a slight fizzing noise."
Holo looked at him doubtfully, wondering what he was talking about, but Lawrence paid her no mind and continued speaking.
"Just as you can tell that it's finally starting to cook through, you add more firewood into the fire. The oil will get hotter and hotter, and then it'll start making a really pleasant sizzling sound."
Holo was completely enraptured by Lawrence's story, and she audibly gulped.
"When you fry it until it's crisp and crunchy, you can eat it to the bone. You then scoop it from the oil and sprinkle some salt over it just as it starts to burst open..."
He mimed sprinkling salt with his fingers, and Holo's gaze darted to them, like a cat being offered a treat.
"Then you bite into the head."
Holo's tail sprang up, almost enough to lift the hem of her clothes.
"There's no greater enjoyment than tasting the sweet oil dripping down your lips along with the rock salt and then washing it down with some cool ale...Ow, ow!"
"We must go right now. Herring, yes? They are in peak season now, are they not?!"
Holo had a tight grip on his muscles through his clothes, and he somehow managed to peel her off.
It seemed like his strategy of filling her up with cheap herring was working, but it was working a little too well.
"Before we do that, we need to head to the Debau Company to confirm our destination and reserve a boat. The seasons are changing now, so the hold will be stuffed full of merchant and material transport. We'll have to wait until winter if we don't hurry."
Unlike his time as a traveling merchant, Lawrence and Holo now had a place to return to. Their hot spring in Nyohhira was currently in the hands of someone else, so they could not take too leisurely of a trip.
And so, even though he had not said that out of spite, Lawrence found himself cut off in the middle of speaking.
Holo's eyes were swimming as she bit her lower lip.
"...Fine, fine. I'll go on ahead to the company, so you take this and buy as much as you want."

Output:
The word frugality seemed to fly out the window in the face of good food.
But just as Holo took the silver with sparkling eyes, she gave Lawrence a beaming smile; even though he knew that was her weapon, it shot him right in the heart.
This was all he could say to vent his chagrin:
"My share is included in that silver, okay?"
"I know, fool."
She was already searching for the food stalls when she responded. She wore a thick skirt to hide her tail, but it was wagging so much that it was almost moving her skirt.
"Oh boy..."
Holo looked like she would dash off the moment she spotted her prey, so he was about to add where they should meet when—
"Hmm?"
Holo, who had been licking her lips, suddenly stuck out her neck.
"What is it?"
"Mm."
Her ears moved tightly under her hood, and without turning her head, she brought her hand over to pull on Lawrence's sleeve.
"Behind you, on the other side of the street."
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, and wolves were the kings of the forest. Even among the busiest of crowds, or even when her heart was stolen away by fried fish, she was always on her guard.
"...Do you think this means trouble?"
The cart was filled with cargo, and the street was crowded.
Even if they did not lose everything to a pickpocket or a holdup, they would not escape unscathed.
Those traveling with women were especially easy targets.
"They do not carry weapons, but...they are the same sort we often see in our baths."
"Priests? Wait, don't tell me you—"
When he said that, Holo's expression became a clearly guilty one.
"Perhaps I drank too much mead..."
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, which made her a nonhuman with wolf ears and a tail. The Church considered those like her to be possessed by demons, beings that should not exist in this world.
She had been getting drunk off mead all day long, and coupled with how she had been letting her guard down on her first trip in a while, someone might have seen her ears and tail along the way.
Holo bit on the nail of her thumb, gripped the silver Lawrence gave her, then spoke.
"It is what it is. They will be after me either way, so my only choice is to run. You prepare the boat and head south as planned. Should I run along the coast, we will likely meet up at some town along the way."
"Yeah, but..."
"Please."
The reason Holo was called the wisewolf was because she could promptly choose the correct option in a time of crisis. He could not count the number of times her quick wit had saved him.
Yet, even though Lawrence understood that Holo's assessment was absolutely correct, he hesitated because he hated the thought of being without her.
She would only become annoyed if he said that, of course, and he knew that a reunion after being separated would not be an awful thing.
"Don't drink away that silver."
"You fool," Holo said with a smile and then leaped from the driver's perch on the cart. Just as she did so, the small group of people whispering among themselves on the other side of the street started to part the crowd and make their way toward them. Some were dressed in clerical robes, some were well-dressed merchants, and there were even some who looked like monks.
Lawrence took a deep breath, mentally taking on the role of someone who simply happened upon Holo in his travels. A shameless performance was the perfect chance for a former merchant to show off his skill.
And due to his business, he had made connections with people in relative positions of power. If things got bad, he could just rely on them, so there was no need to be too worried.
Just as he watched Holo off as he thought about all that, a word reached his ears that sounded entirely out of place.
"Please wait! Could you perhaps be Lady Myuri?!"
"Huh?"
It was not just Lawrence but Holo, who was trying to disappear into the crowd, who was shocked by this, and she stopped in her tracks.
That was because they had just heard the name of Lawrence and Holo's only daughter.
"...Dear?"


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

Input:
The word frugality seemed to fly out the window in the face of good food.
But just as Holo took the silver with sparkling eyes, she gave Lawrence a beaming smile; even though he knew that was her weapon, it shot him right in the heart.
This was all he could say to vent his chagrin:
"My share is included in that silver, okay?"
"I know, fool."
She was already searching for the food stalls when she responded. She wore a thick skirt to hide her tail, but it was wagging so much that it was almost moving her skirt.
"Oh boy..."
Holo looked like she would dash off the moment she spotted her prey, so he was about to add where they should meet when—
"Hmm?"
Holo, who had been licking her lips, suddenly stuck out her neck.
"What is it?"
"Mm."
Her ears moved tightly under her hood, and without turning her head, she brought her hand over to pull on Lawrence's sleeve.
"Behind you, on the other side of the street."
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, and wolves were the kings of the forest. Even among the busiest of crowds, or even when her heart was stolen away by fried fish, she was always on her guard.
"...Do you think this means trouble?"
The cart was filled with cargo, and the street was crowded.
Even if they did not lose everything to a pickpocket or a holdup, they would not escape unscathed.
Those traveling with women were especially easy targets.
"They do not carry weapons, but...they are the same sort we often see in our baths."
"Priests? Wait, don't tell me you—"
When he said that, Holo's expression became a clearly guilty one.
"Perhaps I drank too much mead..."
Holo was the embodiment of a wolf, which made her a nonhuman with wolf ears and a tail. The Church considered those like her to be possessed by demons, beings that should not exist in this world.
She had been getting drunk off mead all day long, and coupled with how she had been letting her guard down on her first trip in a while, someone might have seen her ears and tail along the way.
Holo bit on the nail of her thumb, gripped the silver Lawrence gave her, then spoke.
"It is what it is. They will be after me either way, so my only choice is to run. You prepare the boat and head south as planned. Should I run along the coast, we will likely meet up at some town along the way."
"Yeah, but..."
"Please."
The reason Holo was called the wisewolf was because she could promptly choose the correct option in a time of crisis. He could not count the number of times her quick wit had saved him.
Yet, even though Lawrence understood that Holo's assessment was absolutely correct, he hesitated because he hated the thought of being without her.
She would only become annoyed if he said that, of course, and he knew that a reunion after being separated would not be an awful thing.
"Don't drink away that silver."
"You fool," Holo said with a smile and then leaped from the driver's perch on the cart. Just as she did so, the small group of people whispering among themselves on the other side of the street started to part the crowd and make their way toward them. Some were dressed in clerical robes, some were well-dressed merchants, and there were even some who looked like monks.
Lawrence took a deep breath, mentally taking on the role of someone who simply happened upon Holo in his travels. A shameless performance was the perfect chance for a former merchant to show off his skill.
And due to his business, he had made connections with people in relative positions of power. If things got bad, he could just rely on them, so there was no need to be too worried.
Just as he watched Holo off as he thought about all that, a word reached his ears that sounded entirely out of place.
"Please wait! Could you perhaps be Lady Myuri?!"
"Huh?"
It was not just Lawrence but Holo, who was trying to disappear into the crowd, who was shocked by this, and she stopped in her tracks.
That was because they had just heard the name of Lawrence and Holo's only daughter.
"...Dear?"

Output:
Lawrence briefly showed his palm to Holo and then turned to look at the group approaching them.
He watched as they shrank back as they tried to make their way through the crowd, being yelled at by short-tempered artisans and greedy-looking merchants—if this was an act, then they were going quite overboard. They did not seem like bad people.
At the very least, it did not seem like they were rushing them to kill a pagan god.
"Maybe we should listen to them."
And with a sigh, Lawrence continued.
"We should probably pick up what we can to see what that tomboy's been up to."
The girl inherited Holo's blood, after all..., Lawrence thought, and he left it as just a thought.
Once some of the priests rushed over to the couple and saw Holo from the front, they immediately knew they had made a mistake.
"Your...your hair...?"
Holo's hair was a flaxen color that matched the autumn forest, but the hair of their daughter, Myuri, was a beautiful silver from Lawrence's strong blood. They could not be mistaken for each other.
"Hmm? What might it be?"
Still not quite grasping the situation, they decided to keep it quiet that Myuri was their daughter for now.
When Holo responded with feigned ignorance, they hurriedly righted themselves.
"O-our apologies. Might you perhaps be...?"
They asked again like it was their last hope, and Holo tilted her head with a smile.
As their shoulders dropped in disappointment, they still stared hard at Holo's face as though they were not giving up.
"She really looks just like her, though..."
"Truly, yes, truly."
"Um, are you her sister?"
Holo slowly shook her head—she was her mother, not her sister.
On the other hand, Lawrence could see her tail happily flicking back and forth at what they said.
She was several centuries old, and she never seemed to age at all when she was in her human form. Regardless, she did not appear particularly unhappy to be mistaken for someone the same age as her daughter. No matter how long she lived, a maiden was still a maiden.
"I never thought there could be someone out there who resembled her so closely..."
They were all sighing with admiration, so Lawrence cut in.
"And what is happening with this Lady Myuri?"
The original goal of Lawrence and Holo's trip was to see their only daughter, Myuri.
When Col, the young man who had worked at the house for years, set off, spurred on by his faith, Myuri had forced him to take her with him.
The two were evidently causing great commotion throughout the world as they traveled, but their communications had stopped coming. Holo said there was nothing to worry about, but Lawrence felt uneasy, so they were going to check on Myuri's safety.
"Lady Myuri? Er...pardon us, but have you two recently come to the area?"
"Yes. We usually run a humble inn secluded in the mountains...This is the first time in a while that we've come to town."
It was not a lie, and that was also clear from his dress. Because of how long they had lived in the mountains, both Holo and Lawrence wore thicker clothes that stood out from the crowd.
"I see. Then, you might not know." The one dressed in priest robes cleared his throat. "Are you aware that the world is in the midst of a great wave of people searching for true and proper faith?"
"Errr...yes. Somewhat..."
It was originally a big fight between a country called the Winfiel Kingdom and the pope, who was the head of the Church.
For several long years, the Church had been collecting taxes under the pretext of punishing the pagans, but even after years passed since the conclusion of the war, they were still collecting the same taxes.
The Winfiel Kingdom speaking up about how odd that was had been what started it all, leading to the masses crying out about their dissatisfaction with how the Church had accumulated excessive wealth and other degenerate behavior of many clergy.
The flames of reform were lighting here and there, and the priests were in utter confusion.


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

Input:
Lawrence briefly showed his palm to Holo and then turned to look at the group approaching them.
He watched as they shrank back as they tried to make their way through the crowd, being yelled at by short-tempered artisans and greedy-looking merchants—if this was an act, then they were going quite overboard. They did not seem like bad people.
At the very least, it did not seem like they were rushing them to kill a pagan god.
"Maybe we should listen to them."
And with a sigh, Lawrence continued.
"We should probably pick up what we can to see what that tomboy's been up to."
The girl inherited Holo's blood, after all..., Lawrence thought, and he left it as just a thought.
Once some of the priests rushed over to the couple and saw Holo from the front, they immediately knew they had made a mistake.
"Your...your hair...?"
Holo's hair was a flaxen color that matched the autumn forest, but the hair of their daughter, Myuri, was a beautiful silver from Lawrence's strong blood. They could not be mistaken for each other.
"Hmm? What might it be?"
Still not quite grasping the situation, they decided to keep it quiet that Myuri was their daughter for now.
When Holo responded with feigned ignorance, they hurriedly righted themselves.
"O-our apologies. Might you perhaps be...?"
They asked again like it was their last hope, and Holo tilted her head with a smile.
As their shoulders dropped in disappointment, they still stared hard at Holo's face as though they were not giving up.
"She really looks just like her, though..."
"Truly, yes, truly."
"Um, are you her sister?"
Holo slowly shook her head—she was her mother, not her sister.
On the other hand, Lawrence could see her tail happily flicking back and forth at what they said.
She was several centuries old, and she never seemed to age at all when she was in her human form. Regardless, she did not appear particularly unhappy to be mistaken for someone the same age as her daughter. No matter how long she lived, a maiden was still a maiden.
"I never thought there could be someone out there who resembled her so closely..."
They were all sighing with admiration, so Lawrence cut in.
"And what is happening with this Lady Myuri?"
The original goal of Lawrence and Holo's trip was to see their only daughter, Myuri.
When Col, the young man who had worked at the house for years, set off, spurred on by his faith, Myuri had forced him to take her with him.
The two were evidently causing great commotion throughout the world as they traveled, but their communications had stopped coming. Holo said there was nothing to worry about, but Lawrence felt uneasy, so they were going to check on Myuri's safety.
"Lady Myuri? Er...pardon us, but have you two recently come to the area?"
"Yes. We usually run a humble inn secluded in the mountains...This is the first time in a while that we've come to town."
It was not a lie, and that was also clear from his dress. Because of how long they had lived in the mountains, both Holo and Lawrence wore thicker clothes that stood out from the crowd.
"I see. Then, you might not know." The one dressed in priest robes cleared his throat. "Are you aware that the world is in the midst of a great wave of people searching for true and proper faith?"
"Errr...yes. Somewhat..."
It was originally a big fight between a country called the Winfiel Kingdom and the pope, who was the head of the Church.
For several long years, the Church had been collecting taxes under the pretext of punishing the pagans, but even after years passed since the conclusion of the war, they were still collecting the same taxes.
The Winfiel Kingdom speaking up about how odd that was had been what started it all, leading to the masses crying out about their dissatisfaction with how the Church had accumulated excessive wealth and other degenerate behavior of many clergy.
The flames of reform were lighting here and there, and the priests were in utter confusion.

Output:
"The Church in this town had also lost sight of the path of faith. It was Sir Col, the Twilight Cardinal, and Saint Myuri, who supports him, who showed us a new path."
Saint Myuri.
Lawrence and Holo reflexively exchanged glances.
The Myuri they knew well was a tomboy who would run around the wild mountains half-naked, catching frogs and snakes and whatnot with bare hands and a straight face, tie them up with string, then toss them in a lake to fish up enormous catfish.
She was quite far from a saint.
"And it is said that the first time Sir Col and Lady Myuri gained God's blessing was here in this town. This is where it all began."
The middle-aged monk smiled proudly.
Lawrence remembered that something similar had been written in their letter.
"But we heard that the Twilight Cardinal and Lady Myuri had headed south. We were just thinking about how we might leave behind just a bit of the memory of the miracle here."
Holo reacted slightly when he said "leave behind just a bit of the memory." It was these priests who ordinarily handled chronicling all the events of the world.
"We then heard that a woman who looks exactly like Lady Myuri passed through the city wall, so we rushed over. We knew that this must be God's will."
"Erm...uh..."
Regardless of Lawrence and Holo exchanging glances, one of the priests signaled to one of the rather well-dressed merchants with a look. The merchant began to peel away the cloth that was wrapped around a large, square board that he cradled with care.
"We, servants of the Church, ordered this and it finally came today. And when we think that a woman like you came to town on this day, there is no doubt that this has been God's guidance."
Then, when the wrappings on the board fell away, Lawrence's and Holo's eyes widened.
"What do you think? With this, anyone can tell at a glance what sort of miracle this town was blessed with!"
What they showed them was a single painting.
Because of the clouded sky and the rocky mountain setting, the whole tone of the painting was rather dark.
However, rays of dawn peeked through the clouds in the distant background, and a young adult man was reaching out to it. A pious-looking girl quietly prayed beside him, and angels with trumpets in their hands were floating around them...It was a common composition, but the two in the picture were clearly Col and Myuri.
"Well? As the place where it all started, we are even thinking about having a large ceiling mural based on this painting commissioned in the Atiph church."
The workmanship on the painting was eye-catching, so Lawrence wondered less about the craftsmanship and more about the price.
Paints were so expensive that it was like cutting jewels open.
When he shook his head in disbelief, the priests interpreted that gesture to mean that he was stirred on a spiritual level, and they looked at him proudly.
"In about ten days, the Church will hold an unveiling of the painting and a gathering for prayer. Please, we would appreciate it if you came as well. You will surely attain wonderful spiritual fulfillment and find protection for your travels to come."
When that invitation came with a friendly smile, it was hard to say no.
With no other choice, Lawrence gave his agreement with an absent response, and the priests gripped both his and Holo's hands with great joy, then left with a spring in their steps.
Lawrence, now left behind, was still not fully satisfied, but he suddenly noticed the rather serious look on Holo's face.
Holo was a survivor of the age of the forests and spirits, one called the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. Perhaps she found it unforgivable that a picture of her daughter, who inherited her blood, would be hung on the walls of a church that the humans so worshipped.
"Dear," Holo said, her voice low.
"Holo, now just wait a minute—"
This was also a trend of the times. He wanted to tell her to think of it as a painting of someone else who simply happened to look similar, but she cut him off.
"Listen, dear."
"What?"