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

Input:
"What is it?"
Lawrence's eyes moved to and fro, trying to connect the thoughts that filled his mind.
He had considered that Holo would be able to distinguish poison wheat from good. What had stopped him short was how to convince others of the wheat's purity—or lack thereof.
Somewhere, he had heard of a similar story.
But where?
He flipped through his memories rapidly.
What finally emerged was an image of Elsa and her church.
"That's right...a miracle..."
"Mm."
"What do you think is the single best way for the Church to increase its followers?"
Holo made a face as though she had been made fun of. "Producing a miracle?"
"Quite. But a miracle's fruit is always half-seed. They are not what they seem."
Now it was Holo whose gaze darted to and fro as she chased her own frantic thoughts.
"So it would need to be something that the eye can see...," she said thoughtfully. "Indeed. You—give me my wheat."
Lawrence pointed at the bags he had dropped when Holo had pushed him over.
"Then reach out and fetch it for me." Evidently she had no intention of moving from her place on his lap.
Realizing that quibbling would be pointless, Lawrence twisted around as he was told, reaching out and grabbing the sack in question, then pulling it closer to extract the pouch of wheat from within—the pouch of wheat in which Holo dwelled.
"Here," said Lawrence.
"Mm. Now watch closely."
She took a grain of wheat from the pouch, and placing it in the palm of her hand, she took a deep breath.
The next moment—
"Wha—!"
Before Lawrence's eyes the grain quivered minutely, then cracked, sending a green shoot straight up, which lengthened into a white stem as it pushed skyward, its green leaves expanding outward.
Soon a new ear of wheat appeared, sagging as it ripened and the once–green wheat stalk turned golden brown.
The process had taken but a moment.
"That is about as far as it goes, and I cannot do many at once. Also"—Holo held the wheat stalk that she had grown, tickling Lawrence's nose with the top of the wheat ear—"as you can see, this miracle, too, has seeds within it."
"If I were to laugh, it would hardly sound natural."
Holo frowned and thrust the stalk at Lawrence. "Well? This is all I can do that is visible to the eye. Well, this and assuming my wolf form."
"No, this will be quite enough," said Lawrence. He took the wheat from Holo's hand and continued. "All that remains is to see if Elsa will accept this trick. Also—"
"Is there more?"
Lawrence nodded. "Still...," he muttered, shaking his head. "Then it will be time to show my skill as a merchant."
Even showing beyond all doubt which of the wheat returned by Enberch was poisonous and which was safe would not instantly deliver Tereo from the danger it faced.
By Sem's estimate, the funds they would owe Tereo would come to around seventy limar. Without addressing that shortfall, the villagers could still be devoured by Enberch.
Even if Enberch had poisoned the wheat to seize control of Tereo, even if the townspeople recognized Holo's miracle, and even if they accepted her judgment on the good wheat and the bad, they would still not buy back the wheat they had returned.
This meant that wheat would still need to be turned to cash somehow.
If it came to that point, this fell within the purview of a merchant.
And Lawrence was a merchant.
"Right. Let us return," said Lawrence.
"Hmph. And here sit I, freezing my tail off."
Holo stood, blocking Lawrence's vision with a quick swish of her tail—and in that instant, she was a wolf again.
"You seem disappointed," she said with a grin of bared teeth.
Lawrence shrugged. "You seem happy."
They caught up with Elsa and Evan very quickly.
It was midday when the group arrived in Tereo.
Elsa had been unexpectedly quick to accept Lawrence's proposal.
Perhaps she had understood that without a plan, her resolve alone would not be enough to save the village.
Even a day earlier, she would have been unable to make such a decision.

Output:
She displayed no fear in the face of a being that could swallow her in one bite or rip her to shreds with a wave of its paw.
Holo glared at Elsa wordlessly, showing her rows of sharp teeth.
Evan swallowed and looked on, but Holo knew the world well enough to understand that she did not stand at its peak.
She soon closed her terrible jaws and turned away indignantly.
"Now we must determine just how we will show this to the villagers."
"Have you any ideas?"
They were gathered at the peak of a hill outside Tereo, near Evan's millhouse. Holo stood watch.
"No matter the product, purchasing it at the source yields the greatest gain," said Lawrence.
"So, once the village has been cornered—?" asked Evan.
Lawrence nodded.
Evan continued. "Based on what we saw this morning, it looks like Bishop Van has come as well."
"Bishop Van, eh?"
The bishop's arrival meant that Enberch planned to corner Tereo both financially and religiously, but it also meant that there might be an opportunity to turn the situation around—a situation that earlier in the morning had seemed utterly hopeless.
It was even better, in fact, if the Church leader of Enberch was present.
No one was more qualified to witness a miracle than Bishop Van, after all.
"The group from Enberch brought spearmen with them—they will have no patience for any objections from Tereo. I highly doubt the negotiations will happen in a civilized fashion," said Lawrence.
"I do not think Elder Sem will incite the villagers to take up arms, either," said Elsa.
"Not that the villagers would have courage enough to do that anyway," added Evan. His criticism was not inaccurate.
Given all that, the best time for Lawrence and company to make their appearance was clear.
"Then we should go in after Sem has bowed to Enberch's demands," said Elsa.
"The miracle will happen as I've just explained," said Lawrence.
Elsa nodded, looking at Evan. "Evan, will you be all right?"
She referred to the task that had fallen to him.
More than anyone else's, his life was at risk.
And more than anyone else, he had to trust Holo.
He looked at Holo. "Why, it's nothing—if I should eat the poisoned wheat, you have but to kill me before I die of the poison." His fingers trembled slightly.
He had no doubt said this to appear strong before Elsa, but Holo did not fault him for that.
"I shall swallow you in a single bite. It won't hurt a bit," she answered gleefully.
"Then once we've produced this miracle, we'll leave the financial dealings to you, Mr. Lawrence," said Elsa.
"Obviously we hope they will simply take the wheat back on the spot, but yes—I'll handle it."
Elsa nodded and put her hands together. "May God's blessing go with us."
Holo then spoke quietly.
"They have come."
***
In total, sixteen horse-drawn wagons rolled into Tereo, each one carrying three or four large burlap sacks.
There were twenty-three spearmen, along with men equipped with shields and gauntlets who looked very much like foot soldiers in the company of knights.
There were four clergymen on foot near a wagon. It was impossible to know how many were within their covered carriage, though Elsa said it probably contained Bishop Van and his assistant.
Also traveling with the procession was a pudgy man who appeared to be a merchant. "Ah," Lawrence muttered to himself upon recognizing him.
Riendott was the most successful flour merchant in Enberch. It was hardly a surprise that he had been the one to purchase all of Tereo's wheat. If that was so, then it would be easy to point to Tereo as the source for the wheat when someone died after eating bread made from it.
If Riendott was truly the man at the center of this plan, then he had purposely avoided buying Lawrence's wheat when Lawrence passed through Enberch.
In fact, that might have been the precise moment Riendott had decided to set his plan in motion.
Darkness lay but a step ahead, and none could say where human malice might be hidden.
Lawrence sighed slowly.


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

Input:
She displayed no fear in the face of a being that could swallow her in one bite or rip her to shreds with a wave of its paw.
Holo glared at Elsa wordlessly, showing her rows of sharp teeth.
Evan swallowed and looked on, but Holo knew the world well enough to understand that she did not stand at its peak.
She soon closed her terrible jaws and turned away indignantly.
"Now we must determine just how we will show this to the villagers."
"Have you any ideas?"
They were gathered at the peak of a hill outside Tereo, near Evan's millhouse. Holo stood watch.
"No matter the product, purchasing it at the source yields the greatest gain," said Lawrence.
"So, once the village has been cornered—?" asked Evan.
Lawrence nodded.
Evan continued. "Based on what we saw this morning, it looks like Bishop Van has come as well."
"Bishop Van, eh?"
The bishop's arrival meant that Enberch planned to corner Tereo both financially and religiously, but it also meant that there might be an opportunity to turn the situation around—a situation that earlier in the morning had seemed utterly hopeless.
It was even better, in fact, if the Church leader of Enberch was present.
No one was more qualified to witness a miracle than Bishop Van, after all.
"The group from Enberch brought spearmen with them—they will have no patience for any objections from Tereo. I highly doubt the negotiations will happen in a civilized fashion," said Lawrence.
"I do not think Elder Sem will incite the villagers to take up arms, either," said Elsa.
"Not that the villagers would have courage enough to do that anyway," added Evan. His criticism was not inaccurate.
Given all that, the best time for Lawrence and company to make their appearance was clear.
"Then we should go in after Sem has bowed to Enberch's demands," said Elsa.
"The miracle will happen as I've just explained," said Lawrence.
Elsa nodded, looking at Evan. "Evan, will you be all right?"
She referred to the task that had fallen to him.
More than anyone else's, his life was at risk.
And more than anyone else, he had to trust Holo.
He looked at Holo. "Why, it's nothing—if I should eat the poisoned wheat, you have but to kill me before I die of the poison." His fingers trembled slightly.
He had no doubt said this to appear strong before Elsa, but Holo did not fault him for that.
"I shall swallow you in a single bite. It won't hurt a bit," she answered gleefully.
"Then once we've produced this miracle, we'll leave the financial dealings to you, Mr. Lawrence," said Elsa.
"Obviously we hope they will simply take the wheat back on the spot, but yes—I'll handle it."
Elsa nodded and put her hands together. "May God's blessing go with us."
Holo then spoke quietly.
"They have come."
***
In total, sixteen horse-drawn wagons rolled into Tereo, each one carrying three or four large burlap sacks.
There were twenty-three spearmen, along with men equipped with shields and gauntlets who looked very much like foot soldiers in the company of knights.
There were four clergymen on foot near a wagon. It was impossible to know how many were within their covered carriage, though Elsa said it probably contained Bishop Van and his assistant.
Also traveling with the procession was a pudgy man who appeared to be a merchant. "Ah," Lawrence muttered to himself upon recognizing him.
Riendott was the most successful flour merchant in Enberch. It was hardly a surprise that he had been the one to purchase all of Tereo's wheat. If that was so, then it would be easy to point to Tereo as the source for the wheat when someone died after eating bread made from it.
If Riendott was truly the man at the center of this plan, then he had purposely avoided buying Lawrence's wheat when Lawrence passed through Enberch.
In fact, that might have been the precise moment Riendott had decided to set his plan in motion.
Darkness lay but a step ahead, and none could say where human malice might be hidden.
Lawrence sighed slowly.

Output:
Then the four of them took the long way around the village to Truyeo's den.
While it was possible that Iima had locked the cellar door, it was also just as possible that she had merely closed it, leaving it unlocked.
They were betting on the latter.
"Is this what you meant by God's blessing?" Holo asked.
They had won the bet.
"Is there anyone inside?"
"Nay. It's deserted," said Holo.
Since Elsa and Evan had escaped, the villagers had no further business with the church, and it was empty.
Lawrence pushed up against the pedestal. The statue of the Holy Mother tipped over and onto the floor with a clunk. The sound gave him a thrill of fear, but it was followed only by silence. He gave the pedestal a firm shove. Evan slipped through the gap that opened, and lifted the door properly open from the outside.
"Right, now...Yes, we'll need a sickle and a chalice," said Lawrence.
These were the tools needed for the plan the group was about to execute.
Now out of the cellar, Elsa gave a quick nod and ran off with Evan in tow.
Lawrence gave Holo, who remained in the basement, a small smile. "If everything goes well, you'll have all the time you want to read."
Holo seemed to give up and finally climbed the steps out of the cellar. "So...how does it look outside?"
"The window wasn't broken fortunately. We'll be able to see clearly."
Once Lawrence and company had made their escape, Iima had found an opportunity to open the front door.
The bar that had hung on the tightly closed door now leaned against a wall, unbroken.
Lawrence peered out through a crack in the window and saw that the procession had already arrived in the village square, where a man in the garments of a high-ranking clergyman—surely Bishop Van—and Riendott, the flour merchant, both confronted Elder Sem.
"Mr. Lawrence," said Elsa. She and Evan approached from behind him as quietly as they could.
They brought a chalice that on its best day hadn't been made of pure silver, along with a rusty old sickle.
But for demonstrating a miracle, the older and dingier the instruments, the better.
"Good. Now we just wait for the right moment."
Elsa and Evan swallowed nervously and nodded.
Lawrence couldn't hear what the men were saying, but given Sem's frantic gestures, it looked like he was desperately trying to explain something to Bishop Van.
Sem would occasionally point at the church, causing everyone gathered in the square to look in its direction, which Lawrence found unnerving.
But no one approached the church since they seemed to assume it was completely empty.
Bishop Van responded to Sem calmly, occasionally pausing to consult with the elderly assistant priest at his side.
It seemed as though he considered the feelings of Elder Sem and the assembled villagers to be no more important than the wings of a fly that buzzed around his head.
When Bishop Van produced a few sheets of parchment, Elder Sem was stunned into silence.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" Lawrence asked Holo.
"They are demanding money," came the answer.
Just then a great clamor arose—Lawrence could see a spearman subduing a villager who had charged the proceedings.
Seeing this, several other villagers charged, though the outcome was no different.
Though their clothes were not uniform and they seemed little more than an impromptu militia, the spearmen seemed to have some discipline. They formed a ragged circle, spears out and at the ready.
"Mm. The man Sem has stopped resisting. He is beginning to yield."
If he gave an inch, Bishop Van and Riendott would take a mile.
Bishop Van would corner Sem until nothing could help him.
"Who's that?"
Another villager had joined the discussion. He exchanged some words with Riendott, then soon became enraged and had to be restrained by Sem.
Evan answered Lawrence's question. "That's the baker. He speaks ill of me the most."
Riendott, like Bishop Van, produced a sheet of parchment from his pocket and held it up proudly, causing the villagers to fall silent.


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

Input:
Then the four of them took the long way around the village to Truyeo's den.
While it was possible that Iima had locked the cellar door, it was also just as possible that she had merely closed it, leaving it unlocked.
They were betting on the latter.
"Is this what you meant by God's blessing?" Holo asked.
They had won the bet.
"Is there anyone inside?"
"Nay. It's deserted," said Holo.
Since Elsa and Evan had escaped, the villagers had no further business with the church, and it was empty.
Lawrence pushed up against the pedestal. The statue of the Holy Mother tipped over and onto the floor with a clunk. The sound gave him a thrill of fear, but it was followed only by silence. He gave the pedestal a firm shove. Evan slipped through the gap that opened, and lifted the door properly open from the outside.
"Right, now...Yes, we'll need a sickle and a chalice," said Lawrence.
These were the tools needed for the plan the group was about to execute.
Now out of the cellar, Elsa gave a quick nod and ran off with Evan in tow.
Lawrence gave Holo, who remained in the basement, a small smile. "If everything goes well, you'll have all the time you want to read."
Holo seemed to give up and finally climbed the steps out of the cellar. "So...how does it look outside?"
"The window wasn't broken fortunately. We'll be able to see clearly."
Once Lawrence and company had made their escape, Iima had found an opportunity to open the front door.
The bar that had hung on the tightly closed door now leaned against a wall, unbroken.
Lawrence peered out through a crack in the window and saw that the procession had already arrived in the village square, where a man in the garments of a high-ranking clergyman—surely Bishop Van—and Riendott, the flour merchant, both confronted Elder Sem.
"Mr. Lawrence," said Elsa. She and Evan approached from behind him as quietly as they could.
They brought a chalice that on its best day hadn't been made of pure silver, along with a rusty old sickle.
But for demonstrating a miracle, the older and dingier the instruments, the better.
"Good. Now we just wait for the right moment."
Elsa and Evan swallowed nervously and nodded.
Lawrence couldn't hear what the men were saying, but given Sem's frantic gestures, it looked like he was desperately trying to explain something to Bishop Van.
Sem would occasionally point at the church, causing everyone gathered in the square to look in its direction, which Lawrence found unnerving.
But no one approached the church since they seemed to assume it was completely empty.
Bishop Van responded to Sem calmly, occasionally pausing to consult with the elderly assistant priest at his side.
It seemed as though he considered the feelings of Elder Sem and the assembled villagers to be no more important than the wings of a fly that buzzed around his head.
When Bishop Van produced a few sheets of parchment, Elder Sem was stunned into silence.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" Lawrence asked Holo.
"They are demanding money," came the answer.
Just then a great clamor arose—Lawrence could see a spearman subduing a villager who had charged the proceedings.
Seeing this, several other villagers charged, though the outcome was no different.
Though their clothes were not uniform and they seemed little more than an impromptu militia, the spearmen seemed to have some discipline. They formed a ragged circle, spears out and at the ready.
"Mm. The man Sem has stopped resisting. He is beginning to yield."
If he gave an inch, Bishop Van and Riendott would take a mile.
Bishop Van would corner Sem until nothing could help him.
"Who's that?"
Another villager had joined the discussion. He exchanged some words with Riendott, then soon became enraged and had to be restrained by Sem.
Evan answered Lawrence's question. "That's the baker. He speaks ill of me the most."
Riendott, like Bishop Van, produced a sheet of parchment from his pocket and held it up proudly, causing the villagers to fall silent.

Output:
"I suppose Father Franz was just too good," said Lawrence vaguely, which elicited a slight nod from Elsa.
Finally Sem fell to his knees on the stone. The villagers who had been glaring at Bishop Van now hurried to help him.
Watching this, Lawrence heard a fist being clenched.
When he looked, he saw it was Elsa.
Though her face was calm, her feelings were all too evident.
No villager had ever reached out to help her.
"They are finished. A final decision has been given," said Holo suddenly. Lawrence knew immediately what she meant.
All at once, Sem and the other villagers looked at the building opposite the church—Sem's house.
Lawrence needed only to look at their backs to know what they were thinking.
Next, two guards climbed atop the large, flat meeting stone.
In their hands, they held the idol of Truyeo that Lawrence had seen in Sem's house.
"If you but burn this abomination and embrace the true faith, all shall be resolved. If not, Tereo will be guilty of heresy," Holo said—no doubt repeating Bishop Van's words.
Sem and the rest of the people looked at the church, as though they could hear her speak.
"Humans—always depending on others in times of need," said Holo with a sigh, stepping back from the window. "Still, I have depended on humans in my time. Shall we?"
Evan's face made it plain that he could barely stand to forgive the selfishness of the villagers.
But he swallowed his anger and looked at Elsa.
Elsa stood quickly. "As a servant of righteousness, I cannot abandon the village," she said shortly.
Lawrence nodded. "Let's go."
On that cue, the four of them opened the church's front door.
Apparently silence could indeed descend.
That was what struck Lawrence about this particular silence.
He would never forget the imploring look that Sem gave him as he stood before the stuffed snakeskin totem of Truyeo.
"Elsa!" It was Iima who broke the silence.
Iima was not standing on the meeting stone—perhaps because she had aided Elsa—but instead watched the proceedings with the rest of the villagers. Unconcerned with the villagers' questioning glances, she ran toward the people she had tried to protect.
"Elsa, why—"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Iima."
Iima turned to Lawrence, her face uncomprehending.
Before Lawrence could reply, Bishop Van spoke from his place on the stone. "Goodness, what have we here? None other than Miss Elsa, the successor to Father Franz!"
"It has been some time, Bishop Van," said Elsa.
"I was led to believe that you had snuck out of Tereo. Was the weight of your sin too much for your conscience to bear?"
"God is always forgiving."
Bishop Van seemed momentarily cowed by Elsa's firm answer, but he composed himself quickly and whispered something into the ear of the priest who stood next to him.
The priest cleared his throat, then produced a sheet of parchment, and holding it up, read it aloud.
"We, the Enberch Church of St. Rio, believe and declare that the village of Tereo has prayed to pagan deities and has moreover added the liquor of Khepas to their wheat in order to harm the believers of the one true faith. While believers of the one true faith suffer and die, not a single citizen of Tereo has fallen ill. As they eat of the same wheat, this can be nothing but proof that the village is protected by the evil deities they worship."
When the priest finished his pronouncement, Bishop Van continued. "As stipulated in the contract signed with Father Franz, we will first return this wheat. Moreover, we shall reestablish a righteous holy church. As for the false servant of God, who wears the skin of a lamb but underneath is a lying serpent, she shall face the judgment of the most high God."
When he finished, the soldiers with shields drew their swords and pointed them at Lawrence and company.


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

Input:
"I suppose Father Franz was just too good," said Lawrence vaguely, which elicited a slight nod from Elsa.
Finally Sem fell to his knees on the stone. The villagers who had been glaring at Bishop Van now hurried to help him.
Watching this, Lawrence heard a fist being clenched.
When he looked, he saw it was Elsa.
Though her face was calm, her feelings were all too evident.
No villager had ever reached out to help her.
"They are finished. A final decision has been given," said Holo suddenly. Lawrence knew immediately what she meant.
All at once, Sem and the other villagers looked at the building opposite the church—Sem's house.
Lawrence needed only to look at their backs to know what they were thinking.
Next, two guards climbed atop the large, flat meeting stone.
In their hands, they held the idol of Truyeo that Lawrence had seen in Sem's house.
"If you but burn this abomination and embrace the true faith, all shall be resolved. If not, Tereo will be guilty of heresy," Holo said—no doubt repeating Bishop Van's words.
Sem and the rest of the people looked at the church, as though they could hear her speak.
"Humans—always depending on others in times of need," said Holo with a sigh, stepping back from the window. "Still, I have depended on humans in my time. Shall we?"
Evan's face made it plain that he could barely stand to forgive the selfishness of the villagers.
But he swallowed his anger and looked at Elsa.
Elsa stood quickly. "As a servant of righteousness, I cannot abandon the village," she said shortly.
Lawrence nodded. "Let's go."
On that cue, the four of them opened the church's front door.
Apparently silence could indeed descend.
That was what struck Lawrence about this particular silence.
He would never forget the imploring look that Sem gave him as he stood before the stuffed snakeskin totem of Truyeo.
"Elsa!" It was Iima who broke the silence.
Iima was not standing on the meeting stone—perhaps because she had aided Elsa—but instead watched the proceedings with the rest of the villagers. Unconcerned with the villagers' questioning glances, she ran toward the people she had tried to protect.
"Elsa, why—"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Iima."
Iima turned to Lawrence, her face uncomprehending.
Before Lawrence could reply, Bishop Van spoke from his place on the stone. "Goodness, what have we here? None other than Miss Elsa, the successor to Father Franz!"
"It has been some time, Bishop Van," said Elsa.
"I was led to believe that you had snuck out of Tereo. Was the weight of your sin too much for your conscience to bear?"
"God is always forgiving."
Bishop Van seemed momentarily cowed by Elsa's firm answer, but he composed himself quickly and whispered something into the ear of the priest who stood next to him.
The priest cleared his throat, then produced a sheet of parchment, and holding it up, read it aloud.
"We, the Enberch Church of St. Rio, believe and declare that the village of Tereo has prayed to pagan deities and has moreover added the liquor of Khepas to their wheat in order to harm the believers of the one true faith. While believers of the one true faith suffer and die, not a single citizen of Tereo has fallen ill. As they eat of the same wheat, this can be nothing but proof that the village is protected by the evil deities they worship."
When the priest finished his pronouncement, Bishop Van continued. "As stipulated in the contract signed with Father Franz, we will first return this wheat. Moreover, we shall reestablish a righteous holy church. As for the false servant of God, who wears the skin of a lamb but underneath is a lying serpent, she shall face the judgment of the most high God."
When he finished, the soldiers with shields drew their swords and pointed them at Lawrence and company.

Output:
Bishop Van flinched, then glanced to the priest at his side, his brow furrowed.
The priest said something to him quietly and briefly.
Van raised one hand. "That you would claim so readily to have encountered a divine messenger is merely proof of your heresy! If I am wrong, then bring the proof before me!"
The fish had swallowed the bait.
Elsa looked first at Evan, then Holo.
The miller and the wolf girl both nodded.
"If you have doubts, let us show you!"
Evan and Holo headed straight for the wagons that were loaded with wheat, but as they approached, the spearmen prepared to stave them off.
Van gave a derisive snort. "Let them through!" he said.
Evan held in his hand a grain of wheat he had received from Holo.
Elsa watch the two of them go, then made her way to the gathering stone, ignoring Iima's protests.
"Worship of Truyeo the serpent god is indeed a mistake," she said.
The villagers that stood atop the meeting stone glared at Elsa as though she had forced them to swallow a rock.
"However, that mistake is not itself a fundamental one."
She climbed the steps that led to the stone, walked directly past Bishop Van, and knelt down before the totem of Truyeo.
In the church, she had been unwilling to lie even after having been trapped by Lawrence and Holo.
She was still that girl, every inch a clergywoman.
So why did she not denounce the snake totem as a false idol, and why was she kneeling before it?
"It is my belief that Truyeo itself is one of God's miracles."
Sem's eyes widened, and the villagers were visibly disturbed.
Elsa's words neither denied nor acknowledged Truyeo.
But Van smiled. "The words of men do not keep close company with the truth. Can you prove that your words were not whispered into your ears by a demon?" he sneered.
"The divine messenger has promised to reveal a sign that will guide the wayward lambs back to the true path."
Holo and Evan looked to Elsa. It was the signal that their preparations were done.
Even though he knew all was well, Lawrence was keenly aware of his own nervousness.
Elsa, too, must have felt the overwhelming pressure of all those gazes—the villagers' and Bishop Van's.
But her voice was still clear and strong.
She had inherited the teachings of Father Franz and trusted in Holo's supernatural power, which gave her new faith in the righteousness of the God that had created the world.
"Hmph, you would presume to display the power of God...," began Van, but his voice was drowned out by the cries of fear and surprise that arose from the people who surrounded the wagons.
"Th-the wheat, it's—!"
The crowd's cries crew louder.
From within the bags of wheat loaded on the wagons, ears of wheat began to sprout and grow skyward.
Sem and the rest looked on, their faces as expressionless as badly made dolls, and Van was stunned into silence by the miracle before him.
As the wheat stalks continued to grow, the people's cries echoed throughout the square, at times sounding almost dismayed.
"It's God! God has created a miracle!" The shouting spread like wildfire, and in the end, even the clergymen bowed down.
Only Bishop Van remained standing stock-still as he took in the sight.
Another cry arose as one of the green stalks of wheat matured.
Of the wheat that sprouted in the sixteen wagons, only one wagon's wheat was different. Instead of ripening honey brown, it withered and turned to dust.
All who saw knew exactly what that meant.
Everyone's attention was focused entirely on the wheat, save Lawrence's.
He looked at the ashen-faced Riendott and at Bishop Van.
The ones responsible for poisoning the wheat could hardly laugh this miracle off.
"God has shown us the correct path," said Elsa, focusing the gaze of the crowd on herself.
"This...can't be...It's absurd...!"
"Bishop Van," said Elsa, cool and logical. "I would like you to confirm that this is not the work of a demon."
"H-how—"
"Use this," said Elsa, producing a dull metal chalice and holding it out to Van.


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

Input:
Bishop Van flinched, then glanced to the priest at his side, his brow furrowed.
The priest said something to him quietly and briefly.
Van raised one hand. "That you would claim so readily to have encountered a divine messenger is merely proof of your heresy! If I am wrong, then bring the proof before me!"
The fish had swallowed the bait.
Elsa looked first at Evan, then Holo.
The miller and the wolf girl both nodded.
"If you have doubts, let us show you!"
Evan and Holo headed straight for the wagons that were loaded with wheat, but as they approached, the spearmen prepared to stave them off.
Van gave a derisive snort. "Let them through!" he said.
Evan held in his hand a grain of wheat he had received from Holo.
Elsa watch the two of them go, then made her way to the gathering stone, ignoring Iima's protests.
"Worship of Truyeo the serpent god is indeed a mistake," she said.
The villagers that stood atop the meeting stone glared at Elsa as though she had forced them to swallow a rock.
"However, that mistake is not itself a fundamental one."
She climbed the steps that led to the stone, walked directly past Bishop Van, and knelt down before the totem of Truyeo.
In the church, she had been unwilling to lie even after having been trapped by Lawrence and Holo.
She was still that girl, every inch a clergywoman.
So why did she not denounce the snake totem as a false idol, and why was she kneeling before it?
"It is my belief that Truyeo itself is one of God's miracles."
Sem's eyes widened, and the villagers were visibly disturbed.
Elsa's words neither denied nor acknowledged Truyeo.
But Van smiled. "The words of men do not keep close company with the truth. Can you prove that your words were not whispered into your ears by a demon?" he sneered.
"The divine messenger has promised to reveal a sign that will guide the wayward lambs back to the true path."
Holo and Evan looked to Elsa. It was the signal that their preparations were done.
Even though he knew all was well, Lawrence was keenly aware of his own nervousness.
Elsa, too, must have felt the overwhelming pressure of all those gazes—the villagers' and Bishop Van's.
But her voice was still clear and strong.
She had inherited the teachings of Father Franz and trusted in Holo's supernatural power, which gave her new faith in the righteousness of the God that had created the world.
"Hmph, you would presume to display the power of God...," began Van, but his voice was drowned out by the cries of fear and surprise that arose from the people who surrounded the wagons.
"Th-the wheat, it's—!"
The crowd's cries crew louder.
From within the bags of wheat loaded on the wagons, ears of wheat began to sprout and grow skyward.
Sem and the rest looked on, their faces as expressionless as badly made dolls, and Van was stunned into silence by the miracle before him.
As the wheat stalks continued to grow, the people's cries echoed throughout the square, at times sounding almost dismayed.
"It's God! God has created a miracle!" The shouting spread like wildfire, and in the end, even the clergymen bowed down.
Only Bishop Van remained standing stock-still as he took in the sight.
Another cry arose as one of the green stalks of wheat matured.
Of the wheat that sprouted in the sixteen wagons, only one wagon's wheat was different. Instead of ripening honey brown, it withered and turned to dust.
All who saw knew exactly what that meant.
Everyone's attention was focused entirely on the wheat, save Lawrence's.
He looked at the ashen-faced Riendott and at Bishop Van.
The ones responsible for poisoning the wheat could hardly laugh this miracle off.
"God has shown us the correct path," said Elsa, focusing the gaze of the crowd on herself.
"This...can't be...It's absurd...!"
"Bishop Van," said Elsa, cool and logical. "I would like you to confirm that this is not the work of a demon."
"H-how—"
"Use this," said Elsa, producing a dull metal chalice and holding it out to Van.

Output:
Bishop Van did as he was asked, taking the chalice, then speaking hurriedly. "Wh-what exactly do you plan to do with this?"
"Even the poor may be baptized in God. I would have you, Bishop Van, cleanse this cup."
Van was overwhelmed and unable to protest further. He gave the assistant priest a look of anguish. The priest in turn ordered the other clergymen to fetch some water.
They soon returned bearing water, which they handed over to Van.
Any water poured by a clergyman of the Church became holy and pure.
The chalice, now filled with holy water, shone dully in Bishop Van's hands.
"Take the water now to the miller there," said Elsa. She refrained from doing it herself so as to make sure he could find no fault with her.
This way, the purported righteousness of the clergy would be transferred to Evan in the very act of giving him the water.
"Watch closely," said Elsa.
She turned to Evan and nodded. He nodded back firmly.
Evan produced a small knife and climbed atop each of the wagons, cutting open a burlap sack in each one, taking a bit of flour out of the sack, and putting it into the chalice as he went.
It was obvious to everyone what he planned to do.
All eyes were on the young wheat grinder. The villagers' nervous gulps were almost audible.
Once he had taken flour from fifteen of the sixteen wagons, Evan took the cup, now filled with a mixture of flour and water, and raised it high.
As if pulled by strings, the eyes of the clergymen followed the chalice. They murmured something—perhaps their last prayers to God.
Evan slowly lowered the chalice, peering at its contents.
He had seen Holo's true form and knew that she was no ordinary being. He had seen stalks of wheat complete a full year's growth in but a few moments.
Evan looked suddenly away from the chalice.
His gaze fell upon none other than Elsa.
The next instant, he drank the contents of the chalice down in one great gulp.
"This is the truth of the miracle that God's messenger has revealed to us."
Evan jumped down and thrust the chalice back into the hands of the clergymen, flour still clinging to the corners of his mouth. The clergy then poured fresh water out from a water skin to purify the cup anew.
Next, Evan climbed atop the one wagon from which he had taken no flour, and removed a small amount from one of the burlap sacks, placing it in the chalice.
Elsa turned to the bishop, who was now trembling. "If this is a false miracle, then surely you will be able to demonstrate a true one."
If one had lied and claimed the wheat was poisoned, the only way to prove whether it truly was or not would be to eat all of the wheat.
However, that was speaking in purely logical terms, and miracles went beyond the purview of logic.
Only a miracle could oppose another miracle.
To prove this was not a false miracle created by a demon, the bishop would have to produce a true miracle from God.
"Bishop Van."
Elsa took the chalice from Evan and held it out to Van.
Riendott fell backward on the spot.
Van was frozen, unable to move.
He could not accept the chalice before him.
"V-very well. This...this is a miracle. A true miracle."
"And the church of this village?" came Elsa's quick demand.
Van had neither the words nor the miracle he needed to respond. "It's...legitimate," he growled. "A legitimate church."
"I'll ask you to put that in writing," said Elsa.
She finally showed a smile as she addressed Elder Sem and the villagers and reverently gathered up the totem of Truyeo.
Bishop Van could neither complain nor demand that the villagers cease their worship of Truyeo, a condition they welcomed gladly.
Elsa had performed admirably.
Though beneath the thin layer of courage that had let her confront Bishop Van without hesitation, uncertainty and fear surely swirled within her.
She took a deep, deep breath; wiped the corners of her eyes; and bowed her head, her hands clasped in prayer.


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

Input:
Bishop Van did as he was asked, taking the chalice, then speaking hurriedly. "Wh-what exactly do you plan to do with this?"
"Even the poor may be baptized in God. I would have you, Bishop Van, cleanse this cup."
Van was overwhelmed and unable to protest further. He gave the assistant priest a look of anguish. The priest in turn ordered the other clergymen to fetch some water.
They soon returned bearing water, which they handed over to Van.
Any water poured by a clergyman of the Church became holy and pure.
The chalice, now filled with holy water, shone dully in Bishop Van's hands.
"Take the water now to the miller there," said Elsa. She refrained from doing it herself so as to make sure he could find no fault with her.
This way, the purported righteousness of the clergy would be transferred to Evan in the very act of giving him the water.
"Watch closely," said Elsa.
She turned to Evan and nodded. He nodded back firmly.
Evan produced a small knife and climbed atop each of the wagons, cutting open a burlap sack in each one, taking a bit of flour out of the sack, and putting it into the chalice as he went.
It was obvious to everyone what he planned to do.
All eyes were on the young wheat grinder. The villagers' nervous gulps were almost audible.
Once he had taken flour from fifteen of the sixteen wagons, Evan took the cup, now filled with a mixture of flour and water, and raised it high.
As if pulled by strings, the eyes of the clergymen followed the chalice. They murmured something—perhaps their last prayers to God.
Evan slowly lowered the chalice, peering at its contents.
He had seen Holo's true form and knew that she was no ordinary being. He had seen stalks of wheat complete a full year's growth in but a few moments.
Evan looked suddenly away from the chalice.
His gaze fell upon none other than Elsa.
The next instant, he drank the contents of the chalice down in one great gulp.
"This is the truth of the miracle that God's messenger has revealed to us."
Evan jumped down and thrust the chalice back into the hands of the clergymen, flour still clinging to the corners of his mouth. The clergy then poured fresh water out from a water skin to purify the cup anew.
Next, Evan climbed atop the one wagon from which he had taken no flour, and removed a small amount from one of the burlap sacks, placing it in the chalice.
Elsa turned to the bishop, who was now trembling. "If this is a false miracle, then surely you will be able to demonstrate a true one."
If one had lied and claimed the wheat was poisoned, the only way to prove whether it truly was or not would be to eat all of the wheat.
However, that was speaking in purely logical terms, and miracles went beyond the purview of logic.
Only a miracle could oppose another miracle.
To prove this was not a false miracle created by a demon, the bishop would have to produce a true miracle from God.
"Bishop Van."
Elsa took the chalice from Evan and held it out to Van.
Riendott fell backward on the spot.
Van was frozen, unable to move.
He could not accept the chalice before him.
"V-very well. This...this is a miracle. A true miracle."
"And the church of this village?" came Elsa's quick demand.
Van had neither the words nor the miracle he needed to respond. "It's...legitimate," he growled. "A legitimate church."
"I'll ask you to put that in writing," said Elsa.
She finally showed a smile as she addressed Elder Sem and the villagers and reverently gathered up the totem of Truyeo.
Bishop Van could neither complain nor demand that the villagers cease their worship of Truyeo, a condition they welcomed gladly.
Elsa had performed admirably.
Though beneath the thin layer of courage that had let her confront Bishop Van without hesitation, uncertainty and fear surely swirled within her.
She took a deep, deep breath; wiped the corners of her eyes; and bowed her head, her hands clasped in prayer.

Output:
Holo came running to Lawrence's side. He had been watching her as a spectator would.
"What say you? Impressive, no?" prodded Holo proudly, standing in stark contrast to Elsa, who remained humble despite having served Bishop Van his comeuppance.
But their differences corresponded exactly to the differences between Lawrence and Evan.
Evan shoved the chalice into the hands of one of the clergymen before running over to Elsa and embracing her tightly.
Lawrence's gaze, along with the villagers', was drawn in by the sight. Holo sniffed her displeasure.
"You seem quite envious."
Lawrence saw the challenge in Holo's smile as she said this. Afraid, he could only shrug. "Aye, quite envious."
Holo appeared taken aback by the unexpected reply.
"Envious because I was behind the scenes the whole time. Elsa and Evan were onstage. You sprung the trap."
This was a successful diversion.
Holo sighed, her expression one of disappointment. "Still, the issue of coin has not yet been settled. That job falls to you, does it not?"
"It does. Although..."
Lawrence took the situation in and thought it over.
The tables had been turned.
The mouse had managed to bite the cat. It might as well try to come away with some meat, Lawrence felt.
As the scene changed before his eyes so did his ideas.
In his mind, Lawrence put together a plan that he would never dare try in any other town. It made him feel slightly sadistic.
"Indeed. I suppose this might be worth trying," he said to himself, unconsciously stroking his beard. He became aware of Holo's gaze on him.
She was looking up at him, clearly surprised.
It was rare to see her genuinely surprised. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Heh...are you sure you are not a wolf yourself?"
The statement was so disconnected to anything that he couldn't help looking dumbfounded. "Huh?"
Holo chuckled, her fangs showing. "That face might suit you a bit better."
***
Lawrence withdrew at this point, worried that continuing would only lead him to fall into yet another of Holo's traps. Holo did not push the subject, evidently satisfied with just a bit of teasing.
In any case, their usual banter would have to wait.
There was still business to take care of and revenge to be had.
Bishop Van and the rest of the people from Enberch were descending from the meeting stone, heading over to Sem's house to draw up some documents. Lawrence jogged over to them.
"They may go with Sem to settle matters of religion, but you, Mr. Riendott—you have matters of coin to attend to," he said.
Riendott looked like a criminal who had been unable to escape capture.
Bishop Van did not know Lawrence and was about to demand to know who he was when Sem, having listened to a short whispered comment from Elsa, spoke softly to him.
A surprised "ah" was all the bishop could manage.
Likewise, the villagers regarded Lawrence with suspicion until hearing Sem's explanation. Their expressions of surprise were different from Van's, but eventually they nodded begrudgingly.
Holo whispered in Lawrence's ear, "It seems he is willing to leave everything to you."
Lawrence had gone from being suspected as the villain who'd poisoned the village's wheat to the man responsible for negotiating on that same village's behalf.
Remaining there on the meeting stone, Riendott seemed painfully aware of the fact that he had set Lawrence up. He looked like he was about to cry.
The stone was still surrounded by villagers, and even the people from Enberch discussed the miracle in excited tones.
In this atmosphere, the negotiations would be simple.
"Well then, Mr. Riendott."
"Er, yes!" came his hoarse reply. It was hard to tell whether he was deliberately trying to elicit sympathy or not.
By the way Holo coughed and glared at the man, his actions were probably an act.
"I have been asked by Miss Elsa and the village elder to conduct all financial negotiations. I would first ask whether every villager here can accept those terms."


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

Input:
Holo came running to Lawrence's side. He had been watching her as a spectator would.
"What say you? Impressive, no?" prodded Holo proudly, standing in stark contrast to Elsa, who remained humble despite having served Bishop Van his comeuppance.
But their differences corresponded exactly to the differences between Lawrence and Evan.
Evan shoved the chalice into the hands of one of the clergymen before running over to Elsa and embracing her tightly.
Lawrence's gaze, along with the villagers', was drawn in by the sight. Holo sniffed her displeasure.
"You seem quite envious."
Lawrence saw the challenge in Holo's smile as she said this. Afraid, he could only shrug. "Aye, quite envious."
Holo appeared taken aback by the unexpected reply.
"Envious because I was behind the scenes the whole time. Elsa and Evan were onstage. You sprung the trap."
This was a successful diversion.
Holo sighed, her expression one of disappointment. "Still, the issue of coin has not yet been settled. That job falls to you, does it not?"
"It does. Although..."
Lawrence took the situation in and thought it over.
The tables had been turned.
The mouse had managed to bite the cat. It might as well try to come away with some meat, Lawrence felt.
As the scene changed before his eyes so did his ideas.
In his mind, Lawrence put together a plan that he would never dare try in any other town. It made him feel slightly sadistic.
"Indeed. I suppose this might be worth trying," he said to himself, unconsciously stroking his beard. He became aware of Holo's gaze on him.
She was looking up at him, clearly surprised.
It was rare to see her genuinely surprised. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Heh...are you sure you are not a wolf yourself?"
The statement was so disconnected to anything that he couldn't help looking dumbfounded. "Huh?"
Holo chuckled, her fangs showing. "That face might suit you a bit better."
***
Lawrence withdrew at this point, worried that continuing would only lead him to fall into yet another of Holo's traps. Holo did not push the subject, evidently satisfied with just a bit of teasing.
In any case, their usual banter would have to wait.
There was still business to take care of and revenge to be had.
Bishop Van and the rest of the people from Enberch were descending from the meeting stone, heading over to Sem's house to draw up some documents. Lawrence jogged over to them.
"They may go with Sem to settle matters of religion, but you, Mr. Riendott—you have matters of coin to attend to," he said.
Riendott looked like a criminal who had been unable to escape capture.
Bishop Van did not know Lawrence and was about to demand to know who he was when Sem, having listened to a short whispered comment from Elsa, spoke softly to him.
A surprised "ah" was all the bishop could manage.
Likewise, the villagers regarded Lawrence with suspicion until hearing Sem's explanation. Their expressions of surprise were different from Van's, but eventually they nodded begrudgingly.
Holo whispered in Lawrence's ear, "It seems he is willing to leave everything to you."
Lawrence had gone from being suspected as the villain who'd poisoned the village's wheat to the man responsible for negotiating on that same village's behalf.
Remaining there on the meeting stone, Riendott seemed painfully aware of the fact that he had set Lawrence up. He looked like he was about to cry.
The stone was still surrounded by villagers, and even the people from Enberch discussed the miracle in excited tones.
In this atmosphere, the negotiations would be simple.
"Well then, Mr. Riendott."
"Er, yes!" came his hoarse reply. It was hard to tell whether he was deliberately trying to elicit sympathy or not.
By the way Holo coughed and glared at the man, his actions were probably an act.
"I have been asked by Miss Elsa and the village elder to conduct all financial negotiations. I would first ask whether every villager here can accept those terms."

Output:
The baker piped up next, scratching his head. "We've always left everything to do with coin to the elder."
Lawrence nodded. "There it is, then. I shall begin with the greatest demand. I would have you keep the wheat."
Riendott sputtered, "Th-that's preposterous! I couldn't possibly!"
"Why is that?"
"Th-the reputation of the wheat! After all, a man has died! My shop's reputation has been damaged!"
Given everything else, the story of a death had also probably been a lie.
Lawrence looked at Holo. Her eyes asked him what he wanted to do. Yes, the dead man was a lie surely.
But there was nothing to be gained in exposing it. That could even prove fatal.
"And besides—besides!" continued Riendott. "It's written in the contract with Father Franz that any wheat touched by Khepas liquor will be returned!"
This was an obvious position for him to take, and the villagers could hardly argue this point.
Even if they suspected Riendott himself of planting the poison in the wheat, they could prove nothing.
"Very well, then. Suppose we accept the returned wheat. What would the price be?"
Riendott took a deep breath upon hearing Lawrence's concession, as though he was finally breaking the surface after having been trapped underwater.
"T-two hundred lim—"
"That's absurd!" cried the baker, grabbing Riendott by his collar. "That's the price you paid us originally, you bastard!"
It was true—Riendott must have sold off at least some of the wheat already, so he could hardly demand the same amount back.
Moreover, if that was the amount the village truly owed, the people would still be short a full seventy limar.
Lawrence couldn't help admiring Riendott's sheer nerve, quoting the highest possible price even in these circumstances.
"F-f-fine then...O-one hundred ninety—"
The baker tightened his grip, but Lawrence stopped him.
His intention was not, however, to save Riendott.
"Mr. Riendott, if another miracle was to happen, that would be quite disadvantageous for you, would it not?"
The villagers did not understand the true meaning behind these words, but thanks to Holo seeing through Riendott's lie, Lawrence knew what worried the man most.
What he feared most was that Enberch's lie would be exposed.
Riendott's face looked like a drowning pig's. "O-one h-hundred...six...ty..."
In trenni silver, this came to a concession of eight hundred pieces.
The baker loosened his grip.
Lawrence watched Riendott cough; this was probably the limit of how much the man could afford to concede.
Pushing further would only serve to create more resentment.
After all, the contract between Tereo and Enberch had been abnormal to begin with.
"In that case, let us settle the return at that amount. Let all present bear witness."
Each villager nodded, and Riendott finally looked up.
Now came the crux of the matter.
Though Lawrence had extracted a significant concession, it still was not a sum that the village could afford to repay. In order to prevent this whole farce from repeating itself, a more proper contract needed to be established.
"Incidentally Mr. Riendott," said Lawrence.
"Y-yes?"
"Regarding this returned wheat—I presume it would not be possible to persuade you to repurchase it."
Riendott immediately shook his head. He would ruin his business in such a transaction.
"Understood. However, according to Elder Sem, the village does not have enough cash to buy back the wheat. Even at one hundred sixty limar, there is still not enough."
The villagers raised their voices in surprise.
Evidently the elder had hidden this truth from them in order to avoid a panic.
"Thus I have a proposal for you," continued Lawrence before the villagers could pounce on Riendott.
"Wh-what do you...?"
"It is but a simple thing. I would ask that you persuade the bishop to allow the village to sell wheat under his name."
Riendott thought hard, obviously trying to see what Lawrence hoped to gain in such a deal.
He would not figure it out, though, Lawrence was confident.


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

Input:
The baker piped up next, scratching his head. "We've always left everything to do with coin to the elder."
Lawrence nodded. "There it is, then. I shall begin with the greatest demand. I would have you keep the wheat."
Riendott sputtered, "Th-that's preposterous! I couldn't possibly!"
"Why is that?"
"Th-the reputation of the wheat! After all, a man has died! My shop's reputation has been damaged!"
Given everything else, the story of a death had also probably been a lie.
Lawrence looked at Holo. Her eyes asked him what he wanted to do. Yes, the dead man was a lie surely.
But there was nothing to be gained in exposing it. That could even prove fatal.
"And besides—besides!" continued Riendott. "It's written in the contract with Father Franz that any wheat touched by Khepas liquor will be returned!"
This was an obvious position for him to take, and the villagers could hardly argue this point.
Even if they suspected Riendott himself of planting the poison in the wheat, they could prove nothing.
"Very well, then. Suppose we accept the returned wheat. What would the price be?"
Riendott took a deep breath upon hearing Lawrence's concession, as though he was finally breaking the surface after having been trapped underwater.
"T-two hundred lim—"
"That's absurd!" cried the baker, grabbing Riendott by his collar. "That's the price you paid us originally, you bastard!"
It was true—Riendott must have sold off at least some of the wheat already, so he could hardly demand the same amount back.
Moreover, if that was the amount the village truly owed, the people would still be short a full seventy limar.
Lawrence couldn't help admiring Riendott's sheer nerve, quoting the highest possible price even in these circumstances.
"F-f-fine then...O-one hundred ninety—"
The baker tightened his grip, but Lawrence stopped him.
His intention was not, however, to save Riendott.
"Mr. Riendott, if another miracle was to happen, that would be quite disadvantageous for you, would it not?"
The villagers did not understand the true meaning behind these words, but thanks to Holo seeing through Riendott's lie, Lawrence knew what worried the man most.
What he feared most was that Enberch's lie would be exposed.
Riendott's face looked like a drowning pig's. "O-one h-hundred...six...ty..."
In trenni silver, this came to a concession of eight hundred pieces.
The baker loosened his grip.
Lawrence watched Riendott cough; this was probably the limit of how much the man could afford to concede.
Pushing further would only serve to create more resentment.
After all, the contract between Tereo and Enberch had been abnormal to begin with.
"In that case, let us settle the return at that amount. Let all present bear witness."
Each villager nodded, and Riendott finally looked up.
Now came the crux of the matter.
Though Lawrence had extracted a significant concession, it still was not a sum that the village could afford to repay. In order to prevent this whole farce from repeating itself, a more proper contract needed to be established.
"Incidentally Mr. Riendott," said Lawrence.
"Y-yes?"
"Regarding this returned wheat—I presume it would not be possible to persuade you to repurchase it."
Riendott immediately shook his head. He would ruin his business in such a transaction.
"Understood. However, according to Elder Sem, the village does not have enough cash to buy back the wheat. Even at one hundred sixty limar, there is still not enough."
The villagers raised their voices in surprise.
Evidently the elder had hidden this truth from them in order to avoid a panic.
"Thus I have a proposal for you," continued Lawrence before the villagers could pounce on Riendott.
"Wh-what do you...?"
"It is but a simple thing. I would ask that you persuade the bishop to allow the village to sell wheat under his name."
Riendott thought hard, obviously trying to see what Lawrence hoped to gain in such a deal.
He would not figure it out, though, Lawrence was confident.

Output:
"Why?!" shouted the baker, causing Riendott to recoil in fear briefly. His look made it clear that this was not something under his control.
"It's been a good harvest this year...There's a surplus of rye. No matter where you look, no town can possibly buy the amount this village is looking to sell. To preserve trust, we've already bought all we could..."
Despite its purported poisoning being a lie, the wheat now had a history. Merchants would avoid it if they could.
"No, even if that's true, it will not matter," said Lawrence. "So, will you do us this favor?"
Riendott looked at Lawrence beseechingly, then nodded slowly.
He seemed at once to be begging for God's grace and praying that a miracle would not occur. It was a strange sight.
"I-I s-suppose that would be a-acceptable..."
"One more thing."
"Wha—"
"It is possible that the people of Enberch may try to cause trouble with the business I am planning. I would ask that you be our ally in such a case."
Riendott's mouth dropped open. "Ah—surely you don't plan to make bread!"
"Close, but no. The bakers would never allow such a thing, would they?"
Riendott managed to nod despite his fleshy chin.
Still, it was true that Lawrence's plan was very near to a bread baker's business.
"Also, regarding payment, it will have to wait until the business is moving along well," said Lawrence.
"What—what are you—"
"I certainly won't force anything upon you. I'll even add a condition you may well find attractive." Lawrence looked over at the assembled villagers, then back to Riendott. "What would you say to dissolving Father Franz's contract—the contract that requires Enberch to unconditionally purchase Tereo's wheat?"
The villagers instantly raised their voices in protest. "Hey, you can't do that just because you're negotiating for us!" said one.
"Ah, but so long as this condition remains, it will be a source of resentment on Enberch's part, is that not so?"
It was a difficult question to answer, but Riendott, the largest wheat merchant in all of Enberch, finally nodded.
"This was never a normal contract to begin with. Normally a village has one of its citizens who's good with money take charge of such things—that's business," said Lawrence.
Riendott nodded emphatically but soon shrank back at the angry glares he received.
"What say you, Mr. Riendott? Will you agree?"
"Hey! You can't just—!" came the protests, but Lawrence did not back down.
He was confident that he would be able to turn a large profit here.
"If Mr. Riendott and Bishop Van are on our side, I can tell you a way for this village to create a business that will turn wonderful profits," said Lawrence with a smile.
His confidence was disarming; the villagers backed down.
"What-what kind of business...?" asked one.
Lawrence enjoyed the moment of superiority and then explained. "I suppose I'll tell you. You'll need some cooperation from the baker."
A bit surprised, the baker nodded.
"Then can you make ready some eggs and butter? And honey if you have it."
All present looked at once amazed and confused.
It was Holo alone who spoke. "It sounds like something rather tasty shall come from all this."
***
After finishing the packing of their traveling gear and returning to the church's living quarters, Lawrence could hear a loud crunching sound.
The sound, like footsteps upon a gravel path, was probably Holo eating.
He didn't know how many times he had told her not to eat while reading, but she never listened.
Elsa, too, would scold Evan any time she caught him eating and dropping crumbs everywhere, shaking her head with a sigh.
Occasionally during such times, Elsa and Lawrence's eyes would meet, and they would share a long-suffering smile.
It had been three days since the conflict between Enberch and Tereo ended.
Given the outcome, the deal Lawrence had struck was a great success.


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

Input:
"Why?!" shouted the baker, causing Riendott to recoil in fear briefly. His look made it clear that this was not something under his control.
"It's been a good harvest this year...There's a surplus of rye. No matter where you look, no town can possibly buy the amount this village is looking to sell. To preserve trust, we've already bought all we could..."
Despite its purported poisoning being a lie, the wheat now had a history. Merchants would avoid it if they could.
"No, even if that's true, it will not matter," said Lawrence. "So, will you do us this favor?"
Riendott looked at Lawrence beseechingly, then nodded slowly.
He seemed at once to be begging for God's grace and praying that a miracle would not occur. It was a strange sight.
"I-I s-suppose that would be a-acceptable..."
"One more thing."
"Wha—"
"It is possible that the people of Enberch may try to cause trouble with the business I am planning. I would ask that you be our ally in such a case."
Riendott's mouth dropped open. "Ah—surely you don't plan to make bread!"
"Close, but no. The bakers would never allow such a thing, would they?"
Riendott managed to nod despite his fleshy chin.
Still, it was true that Lawrence's plan was very near to a bread baker's business.
"Also, regarding payment, it will have to wait until the business is moving along well," said Lawrence.
"What—what are you—"
"I certainly won't force anything upon you. I'll even add a condition you may well find attractive." Lawrence looked over at the assembled villagers, then back to Riendott. "What would you say to dissolving Father Franz's contract—the contract that requires Enberch to unconditionally purchase Tereo's wheat?"
The villagers instantly raised their voices in protest. "Hey, you can't do that just because you're negotiating for us!" said one.
"Ah, but so long as this condition remains, it will be a source of resentment on Enberch's part, is that not so?"
It was a difficult question to answer, but Riendott, the largest wheat merchant in all of Enberch, finally nodded.
"This was never a normal contract to begin with. Normally a village has one of its citizens who's good with money take charge of such things—that's business," said Lawrence.
Riendott nodded emphatically but soon shrank back at the angry glares he received.
"What say you, Mr. Riendott? Will you agree?"
"Hey! You can't just—!" came the protests, but Lawrence did not back down.
He was confident that he would be able to turn a large profit here.
"If Mr. Riendott and Bishop Van are on our side, I can tell you a way for this village to create a business that will turn wonderful profits," said Lawrence with a smile.
His confidence was disarming; the villagers backed down.
"What-what kind of business...?" asked one.
Lawrence enjoyed the moment of superiority and then explained. "I suppose I'll tell you. You'll need some cooperation from the baker."
A bit surprised, the baker nodded.
"Then can you make ready some eggs and butter? And honey if you have it."
All present looked at once amazed and confused.
It was Holo alone who spoke. "It sounds like something rather tasty shall come from all this."
***
After finishing the packing of their traveling gear and returning to the church's living quarters, Lawrence could hear a loud crunching sound.
The sound, like footsteps upon a gravel path, was probably Holo eating.
He didn't know how many times he had told her not to eat while reading, but she never listened.
Elsa, too, would scold Evan any time she caught him eating and dropping crumbs everywhere, shaking her head with a sigh.
Occasionally during such times, Elsa and Lawrence's eyes would meet, and they would share a long-suffering smile.
It had been three days since the conflict between Enberch and Tereo ended.
Given the outcome, the deal Lawrence had struck was a great success.

Output:
Lawrence had used the village's wheat and the baker's assistance to make cookies.
They were not dissimilar to unleavened bread, which was made with flour and water but without the yeast that caused regular bread to rise. Adding butter and eggs to this unleavened bread mixture, however, created something surprisingly delicious.
Cookies were common in the south, but for whatever reason, Lawrence had never seen them in the north.
Having discovered during a dinner with Elsa and Evan that they were unfamiliar with the different types of bread in the world, Lawrence had been convinced that the villagers would not know of cookies—and he had been right.
Cookies looked nothing like bread. While the baker's guild strictly prohibited other businesses from baking and selling bread, foodstuffs aside from bread fell outside the scope of its rule.
Though the baker's guild would surely protest, as long as the villagers had the support of Riendott and Bishop Van, theirs would remain a mutually beneficial relationship.
Cookies being a rare and delicious product, they sold well in Enberch. They sold so well that it seemed possible for the purported surplus of rye wheat to be insufficient for demand.
However, business of this sort could easily be copied, so it was only in the beginning that large profits would come with relative ease.
So it was that Lawrence had not demanded a share of the profits. Instead he had asked the villagers to buy the wheat he carried in his cart with a bit of extra coin included by way of apology.
If the people of Tereo planned to turn the cookies into a local specialty, they had a lot of hard work before them.
But the cookies' deliciousness, at least, was guaranteed.
After all, in the three days since the end of the dispute, Holo had eaten nothing else.
To any who ate the cookies for the first time, their taste and texture could be addictive.
"Well then, it's about time to be off," said Lawrence.
Holo was happily spilling crumbs all over the pages of one of Father Franz's books. She looked up, annoyed at the light tap Lawrence had given her.
Elsa was right outside the church, praying intensely over Lawrence's cart for a safe journey while Elder Sem and the villagers had decided on their own to pray to Truyeo that Lawrence's business would thrive.
The villagers' attitude toward the church had changed. Some had even begun attending services out of gratitude.
No doubt in the future, Tereo would worship two gods.
Holo stood up from the chair in which she sat, grabbing a cookie from a mountain of the same on the table and holding it between her teeth.
"You know we have piles of those things in the cart. If this is like when you bought so many apples we could hardly eat them all, you'll have naught but cookies for every meal," warned Lawrence.
Holo took a bite out of the cookie with a loud crunch, regarding Lawrence with irritation. "Uh, just who was it, I wonder, that separated the good wheat from the bad and created that miracle? Had I not been there, you would've been tossed naked into a cauldron and boiled alive."
It pained Lawrence to hear it, but Holo had been eating cookies at an absurd rate—even the villagers, who felt they owed her a great debt, were stunned into silence by the sight of her devouring the treats.
He felt he could warn her a bit without risking retribution.
"Mmph," Holo continued. "We surely met with calamity this time around."
It was a forced change of subject, but she was not wrong.
"Well, at least we turned a profit in the end."
"Is that all you care about?" laughed Holo, her cheeks stuffed with cookie. "For my part, I cannot say that my hopes were met, but I did well enough. I suppose it was worth the effort."
She looked at the book that recorded the tales of the Moon-Hunting Bear—which she had now read fully three times—and sighed. "So, where are we going next?"
"Lenos. There's a legend there in which you personally appear."


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

Input:
Lawrence had used the village's wheat and the baker's assistance to make cookies.
They were not dissimilar to unleavened bread, which was made with flour and water but without the yeast that caused regular bread to rise. Adding butter and eggs to this unleavened bread mixture, however, created something surprisingly delicious.
Cookies were common in the south, but for whatever reason, Lawrence had never seen them in the north.
Having discovered during a dinner with Elsa and Evan that they were unfamiliar with the different types of bread in the world, Lawrence had been convinced that the villagers would not know of cookies—and he had been right.
Cookies looked nothing like bread. While the baker's guild strictly prohibited other businesses from baking and selling bread, foodstuffs aside from bread fell outside the scope of its rule.
Though the baker's guild would surely protest, as long as the villagers had the support of Riendott and Bishop Van, theirs would remain a mutually beneficial relationship.
Cookies being a rare and delicious product, they sold well in Enberch. They sold so well that it seemed possible for the purported surplus of rye wheat to be insufficient for demand.
However, business of this sort could easily be copied, so it was only in the beginning that large profits would come with relative ease.
So it was that Lawrence had not demanded a share of the profits. Instead he had asked the villagers to buy the wheat he carried in his cart with a bit of extra coin included by way of apology.
If the people of Tereo planned to turn the cookies into a local specialty, they had a lot of hard work before them.
But the cookies' deliciousness, at least, was guaranteed.
After all, in the three days since the end of the dispute, Holo had eaten nothing else.
To any who ate the cookies for the first time, their taste and texture could be addictive.
"Well then, it's about time to be off," said Lawrence.
Holo was happily spilling crumbs all over the pages of one of Father Franz's books. She looked up, annoyed at the light tap Lawrence had given her.
Elsa was right outside the church, praying intensely over Lawrence's cart for a safe journey while Elder Sem and the villagers had decided on their own to pray to Truyeo that Lawrence's business would thrive.
The villagers' attitude toward the church had changed. Some had even begun attending services out of gratitude.
No doubt in the future, Tereo would worship two gods.
Holo stood up from the chair in which she sat, grabbing a cookie from a mountain of the same on the table and holding it between her teeth.
"You know we have piles of those things in the cart. If this is like when you bought so many apples we could hardly eat them all, you'll have naught but cookies for every meal," warned Lawrence.
Holo took a bite out of the cookie with a loud crunch, regarding Lawrence with irritation. "Uh, just who was it, I wonder, that separated the good wheat from the bad and created that miracle? Had I not been there, you would've been tossed naked into a cauldron and boiled alive."
It pained Lawrence to hear it, but Holo had been eating cookies at an absurd rate—even the villagers, who felt they owed her a great debt, were stunned into silence by the sight of her devouring the treats.
He felt he could warn her a bit without risking retribution.
"Mmph," Holo continued. "We surely met with calamity this time around."
It was a forced change of subject, but she was not wrong.
"Well, at least we turned a profit in the end."
"Is that all you care about?" laughed Holo, her cheeks stuffed with cookie. "For my part, I cannot say that my hopes were met, but I did well enough. I suppose it was worth the effort."
She looked at the book that recorded the tales of the Moon-Hunting Bear—which she had now read fully three times—and sighed. "So, where are we going next?"
"Lenos. There's a legend there in which you personally appear."

Output:
Lawrence knew that Holo's true desire was to head north as soon as possible, but when he considered the journey that lay ahead, it was no wonder that the idea of lounging about in a suddenly comfortable village was appealing.
He was somewhat surprised that she was ready to go after just three days.
"Shall we?" she said.
"Quite."
As soon as Lawrence and Holo emerged from the church, the villagers gathered to send them off.
Gloomy apologies like "Sorry we doubted you" were long since done with.
All that remained were happy wishes for safe travel.
"May God's blessing go with you," said Elsa, a gentle smile on her face.
This was enough to make a man happy—which Lawrence was despite the foot stomp he received from Holo.
"Mr. Lawrence," said Evan, holding Elsa's hand. "Thank you for teaching me so much. I'll work hard here."
It was the constant suspicion of the villagers that had made Evan want to leave the village to become a merchant.
Things had changed now, though, and Evan chose to stay in the village and take responsibility for future negotiations with Enberch.
Elsa and Evan's hands were tightly clasped together. His decision to stay had obviously been the right one as anyone could tell.
"A traveler does not leave regret behind in a village, but good memories. Farewell!"
Lawrence gripped the reins, and the horse began its amble.
Wrapped in the faint sunlight of winter, the wagon clattered its way out of the small village of Tereo.
Elsa, Evan, and Sem all waved from where they stood in front of the church, and even Lawrence looked back twice to wave.
But their forms soon shrank and disappeared.
Lawrence's travels with Holo had begun again.
Their destination was Lenos.
From there, they would head northeast.
It would be just around the end of spring at the opening of summer, Lawrence mused, when they would finally arrive in Yoitsu.
As Lawrence thought this over, Holo immediately took a bag of cookies out and dug in.
The solemn, contemplative atmosphere that came with newly begun travel was shattered by the crunching of cookies.
"Hm?" Holo looked up questioningly, her mouth full of cookies, and Lawrence decided her blank face had its own charms.
The smile he had upon seeing her innocent face soon evaporated. "Summer," he murmured to himself.
Immediately thereafter, he noticed something approaching his face. He looked to find it was a cookie. "Don't look at me so desirously," she said sourly.
"I've had plenty, thanks," said Lawrence.
Holo did not relent. "Your face says otherwise." She shoved the cookie at him again.
Lawrence gave up and accepted it, taking a bite.
A particularly large amount of honey had been added to the cookies that the village had given Holo so they were quite sweet.
Such things were not at all bad once in a while, he mused.
Yet Holo still looked at him, somehow dissatisfied.
"What?"
"Nothing," said Holo, looking ahead and taking another bite of her cookie.
She obviously wanted to say something—but what?
Lawrence thought this over, and it came to him.
Oh, but that—that was too unfair.
She wanted to make him say it—it was a trap.
And yet if he did not fall into the trap, she was sure to be angry.
There was nothing to be done.
Lawrence made his decision, popped the last piece of cookie into his mouth, and spoke.
"Hey."
"Mm?"
Holo turned toward him, the picture of innocence.
Her tail swished expectantly beneath her robes.
Lawrence played along with her ridiculous farce.
"There's some business where there's good money to be made," he said.
"Oh?"
"It'll take us out of our way, though."
Holo made an exaggeratedly irritated face and sighed.
Yet she did not ask for any further details, simply smiling in a vaguely resigned fashion. "I suppose it cannot be helped. I shall accompany you."
Holo did not want their journey to end.
Lawrence believed this—and it was precisely because she didn't want it to end that she affected this attitude.
She would never have admitted this, though.
What a charmless girl.


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

Input:
Lawrence knew that Holo's true desire was to head north as soon as possible, but when he considered the journey that lay ahead, it was no wonder that the idea of lounging about in a suddenly comfortable village was appealing.
He was somewhat surprised that she was ready to go after just three days.
"Shall we?" she said.
"Quite."
As soon as Lawrence and Holo emerged from the church, the villagers gathered to send them off.
Gloomy apologies like "Sorry we doubted you" were long since done with.
All that remained were happy wishes for safe travel.
"May God's blessing go with you," said Elsa, a gentle smile on her face.
This was enough to make a man happy—which Lawrence was despite the foot stomp he received from Holo.
"Mr. Lawrence," said Evan, holding Elsa's hand. "Thank you for teaching me so much. I'll work hard here."
It was the constant suspicion of the villagers that had made Evan want to leave the village to become a merchant.
Things had changed now, though, and Evan chose to stay in the village and take responsibility for future negotiations with Enberch.
Elsa and Evan's hands were tightly clasped together. His decision to stay had obviously been the right one as anyone could tell.
"A traveler does not leave regret behind in a village, but good memories. Farewell!"
Lawrence gripped the reins, and the horse began its amble.
Wrapped in the faint sunlight of winter, the wagon clattered its way out of the small village of Tereo.
Elsa, Evan, and Sem all waved from where they stood in front of the church, and even Lawrence looked back twice to wave.
But their forms soon shrank and disappeared.
Lawrence's travels with Holo had begun again.
Their destination was Lenos.
From there, they would head northeast.
It would be just around the end of spring at the opening of summer, Lawrence mused, when they would finally arrive in Yoitsu.
As Lawrence thought this over, Holo immediately took a bag of cookies out and dug in.
The solemn, contemplative atmosphere that came with newly begun travel was shattered by the crunching of cookies.
"Hm?" Holo looked up questioningly, her mouth full of cookies, and Lawrence decided her blank face had its own charms.
The smile he had upon seeing her innocent face soon evaporated. "Summer," he murmured to himself.
Immediately thereafter, he noticed something approaching his face. He looked to find it was a cookie. "Don't look at me so desirously," she said sourly.
"I've had plenty, thanks," said Lawrence.
Holo did not relent. "Your face says otherwise." She shoved the cookie at him again.
Lawrence gave up and accepted it, taking a bite.
A particularly large amount of honey had been added to the cookies that the village had given Holo so they were quite sweet.
Such things were not at all bad once in a while, he mused.
Yet Holo still looked at him, somehow dissatisfied.
"What?"
"Nothing," said Holo, looking ahead and taking another bite of her cookie.
She obviously wanted to say something—but what?
Lawrence thought this over, and it came to him.
Oh, but that—that was too unfair.
She wanted to make him say it—it was a trap.
And yet if he did not fall into the trap, she was sure to be angry.
There was nothing to be done.
Lawrence made his decision, popped the last piece of cookie into his mouth, and spoke.
"Hey."
"Mm?"
Holo turned toward him, the picture of innocence.
Her tail swished expectantly beneath her robes.
Lawrence played along with her ridiculous farce.
"There's some business where there's good money to be made," he said.
"Oh?"
"It'll take us out of our way, though."
Holo made an exaggeratedly irritated face and sighed.
Yet she did not ask for any further details, simply smiling in a vaguely resigned fashion. "I suppose it cannot be helped. I shall accompany you."
Holo did not want their journey to end.
Lawrence believed this—and it was precisely because she didn't want it to end that she affected this attitude.
She would never have admitted this, though.
What a charmless girl.

Output:
Lawrence chewed his last piece of cookie and thanked whatever god had given him this bittersweet sensation.
***
Hello! It has been quite a while. I am Isuna Hasekura, and this is the fourth volume.
What's more, this makes it a full year since Spice and Wolf debuted. Time certainly does fly.
It seems like just the other day I was going to the Twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize party, dressed in a suit and desperately nervous— and just recently I attended the Thirteenth.
Time has moved so fast, in fact, that I didn't have time to get my suit cleaned and wound up going in my civvies. That's the reason why there in the sea of suits and ties was me, wandering around in my dingy jeans. The roast beef was excellent.
Speaking of which, the year-end party for Dengeki Publishing is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I cannot wait to see what delicious things they'll serve. I really want to bring along some Tupperware to take leftovers home with me, but it's been only a year since my debut, and I'm thinking that's the kind of thing I shouldn't do until I'm a more established veteran.
It's so beautiful in my mind: I'll grow a beard, smoke a pipe, and wave my cane around as I swagger into the hall, making for the sushi table and taking it home with me. Part of me says that my idea of a veteran author is a little off, but I've decided not to worry about it. Oh yeah—I can't forget to bring some pickled ginger back with the sushi. I'd be a failure as a gentleman otherwise.
Now that I've filled some space, some thanks are due.
To Jyuu Ayakura-sensei, whose illustrations have once again turned out just as I have imagined them, my sincere thanks. When I was looking at the roughs, there would be a single character who would look too much like I imagined him, and I would have to laugh.
My deep thanks likewise go to my esteemed editor, Koetsu-sama, for carefully checking my shaky manuscripts. If they made me do that job myself, I'd probably give up halfway through. Thank you so much.
And to all of you who now hold this book in your hands, my deepest thanks. I hope that you also enjoy the next volume.
I shall see you then.
Isuna Hasekura
***
It was a quiet journey.
There was no conversation—only the clattering of the wagon.
They woke, they rattled around in the wagon, they ate—only that.
Kraft Lawrence sat in the driver's seat, gripping the reins. It was his seventh year as a traveling merchant since setting out at the age of eighteen.
Loneliness was the constant companion of the traveling merchant, and he'd often found himself talking to his cart horse. There had been a time when these episodes were frequent. These last few days his quiet travels had continued, and he'd spoken no words worthy of the term.
Yet if asked if he was lonely, Lawrence's reply would have been negative, which was unmistakably thanks to his companion, who sat next to him in the driver's box.
Though she now had a blanket wrapped around herself so thoroughly that it was hard to tell if she was a boy or a girl, the beauty of her features would turn any head, and her long, chestnut-brown hair, fine enough to be the pride of any nobleman's daughter, easily holding the attention of male passersby.
If she stayed quiet and polite, surely she could have entered the grandest of functions without so much as a hint of shame—yet there was a reason things were not so simple for Lawrence's companion.
After all, she had the beast ears and tail that marked her as an evildoer.
His companion's name was Holo.
Her true form was that of a giant wolf so great it could swallow a human in one bite. She was the wolf-god of the harvest, who dwelled within the wheat.
***
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if Holo had said something, but perhaps she had simply opened her eyes. Her reasons for doing so were generally obvious.
She had shifted her tail a moment ago, so next it would be her ears. With a deerskin-gloved hand, Lawrence took hold of Holo's hood, pulling it slightly up off her head.


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

Input:
Lawrence chewed his last piece of cookie and thanked whatever god had given him this bittersweet sensation.
***
Hello! It has been quite a while. I am Isuna Hasekura, and this is the fourth volume.
What's more, this makes it a full year since Spice and Wolf debuted. Time certainly does fly.
It seems like just the other day I was going to the Twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize party, dressed in a suit and desperately nervous— and just recently I attended the Thirteenth.
Time has moved so fast, in fact, that I didn't have time to get my suit cleaned and wound up going in my civvies. That's the reason why there in the sea of suits and ties was me, wandering around in my dingy jeans. The roast beef was excellent.
Speaking of which, the year-end party for Dengeki Publishing is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I cannot wait to see what delicious things they'll serve. I really want to bring along some Tupperware to take leftovers home with me, but it's been only a year since my debut, and I'm thinking that's the kind of thing I shouldn't do until I'm a more established veteran.
It's so beautiful in my mind: I'll grow a beard, smoke a pipe, and wave my cane around as I swagger into the hall, making for the sushi table and taking it home with me. Part of me says that my idea of a veteran author is a little off, but I've decided not to worry about it. Oh yeah—I can't forget to bring some pickled ginger back with the sushi. I'd be a failure as a gentleman otherwise.
Now that I've filled some space, some thanks are due.
To Jyuu Ayakura-sensei, whose illustrations have once again turned out just as I have imagined them, my sincere thanks. When I was looking at the roughs, there would be a single character who would look too much like I imagined him, and I would have to laugh.
My deep thanks likewise go to my esteemed editor, Koetsu-sama, for carefully checking my shaky manuscripts. If they made me do that job myself, I'd probably give up halfway through. Thank you so much.
And to all of you who now hold this book in your hands, my deepest thanks. I hope that you also enjoy the next volume.
I shall see you then.
Isuna Hasekura
***
It was a quiet journey.
There was no conversation—only the clattering of the wagon.
They woke, they rattled around in the wagon, they ate—only that.
Kraft Lawrence sat in the driver's seat, gripping the reins. It was his seventh year as a traveling merchant since setting out at the age of eighteen.
Loneliness was the constant companion of the traveling merchant, and he'd often found himself talking to his cart horse. There had been a time when these episodes were frequent. These last few days his quiet travels had continued, and he'd spoken no words worthy of the term.
Yet if asked if he was lonely, Lawrence's reply would have been negative, which was unmistakably thanks to his companion, who sat next to him in the driver's box.
Though she now had a blanket wrapped around herself so thoroughly that it was hard to tell if she was a boy or a girl, the beauty of her features would turn any head, and her long, chestnut-brown hair, fine enough to be the pride of any nobleman's daughter, easily holding the attention of male passersby.
If she stayed quiet and polite, surely she could have entered the grandest of functions without so much as a hint of shame—yet there was a reason things were not so simple for Lawrence's companion.
After all, she had the beast ears and tail that marked her as an evildoer.
His companion's name was Holo.
Her true form was that of a giant wolf so great it could swallow a human in one bite. She was the wolf-god of the harvest, who dwelled within the wheat.
***
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if Holo had said something, but perhaps she had simply opened her eyes. Her reasons for doing so were generally obvious.
She had shifted her tail a moment ago, so next it would be her ears. With a deerskin-gloved hand, Lawrence took hold of Holo's hood, pulling it slightly up off her head.

Output:
Perhaps it was her way of expressing her thanks.
Lawrence returned his gaze to the road, and the quiet journey continued.
They no longer failed to understand each other.
Even without words, their travels were no longer lonely.
***
It had been a week since the incidents in the village of Tereo, where they'd very nearly been executed as criminals.
Lawrence and Holo now made for Lenos, a town where tales of Holo's exploits in the distant past were said to still exist.
Lenos was a largish town for the northlands known for its lumber and furs.
It received its share of visitors, so Lawrence and Holo passed many other merchants who came and went on the road to the town. Lawrence himself had visited it many times in the past, though this time he did not come for business.
He instead sought information about the ancient home of his companion.
Thus his wagon bed held none of the trade goods that usually filled it.
Lawrence had originally planned to sell some of the mountains of cookies the villagers of Tereo had given him as thanks, but they had all been eaten by the wolf who now slept next to him. If there was something tasty to eat, she would devour as much of it as was there, becoming angry when there was no more to be had.
She ate, drank, and slept a truly stunning amount.
Lawrence had to admit, though, that between the cold and the boredom, he would fall asleep, too, if he didn't have to hold the reins. In any case, her ability to sleep all night after drowsing all day was impressive. More than once he wondered if she was waking in the wee hours to sneak off and howl at the moon.
They had journeyed thus uneventfully for a week before the rain came.
Holo somehow contrived to predict the bad weather's arrival two days in advance, so perhaps it was that memory or perhaps it was the falling rain...Either way, she stirred beneath the blanket and gave Lawrence a wordless, resentful glare.
Lawrence turned away. No matter how accusatory her gaze, it was not as if he could do anything about the rain.
It had been falling steadily since midday—not in big drops but rather in thin, misty sheets—which was nice enough as far as that went, but given the cold, it was hardly different from being sprinkled with ice shavings.
Lawrence's hands had immediately gone numb, and just as he was beginning to ponder the possibility of hiding himself beneath the wagon bed, some god evidently noticed his good behavior.
Holo, too, noticed and popped her head out from underneath the blanket.
She yawned hugely. "...At this rate, it looks like we'll make it through without being frozen."
"That's easy for you to say bundled up in that blanket while I shiver away here, reins in hand."
"Hmph. 'Tis my cold heart. It needs must be kept warm," she said with a grin.
Lawrence found himself unable to be angry.
Ahead of them on the road stood their destination, a dark shadow that loomed in the otherwise pale white scenery.
"There 'tis. Like a piece of burnt rice floating in stew," said Holo, her empty stomach making a ridiculous growling noise. Evidently, even this displeased wisewolf had not expected her stomach to growl at such an inopportune moment. After a stunned moment, she smiled sweetly, having forgotten her teasing entirely.
Lenos was a large port town built alongside the broad, slow Roam River, which meant that if they could see the town, the river should likewise be visible. At the moment, though, it was blurred from sight by the falling mist. Had it been clear, they would no doubt have seen the many boats that plied the river's surface.
Upon entering the town, it was clear that there were many boats tied up at their moorings in addition to the constant traffic on the river. Holo's beloved food stalls were abundant as was strong liquor.
If the coming winter's snow was going to delay their progress, they would at least make certain to enjoy their time here.
Lawrence did have one worry, though.
"There's something I should say, just to make sure you understand."