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

Input:
It seemed excessive to Lawrence, but also well deserved.
After his shriek died down, Liebert—whose left leg had just been broken by Holo's forepaw—flapped his mouth wordlessly, eyes open.
"Good evening, Mr. Liebert! And how fare you tonight?"
"Wh-wha...Uh? H-how are youuuugghghh!"
"Holo. Honeyed peach preserves."
As if by magic, those words dispelled Holo's reinvigorated anger, and she reluctantly took her paw off the man's broken leg.
"Mr. Liebert. Mr. Liebert! Would you be so kind as to explain to Norah how while you were getting dressed you, shall we say, got the buttons wrong, please?"
Liebert wiped the sweat from his forehead, and for a minute, his merchant sense showed past the terror and pain—it was the shrewd face of a merchant who understood the situation and was trying to discern how to save his own life.
"Mr. Liebert!"
"It—it wasn't me! It was Remelio's orders. I told him not to do it. I told him betrayal would call down God's wrath. I swear, I was against it—"
"As you can see, this is no ordinary wolf. Think of it as a representative of almighty God. In other words, lies will not avail you," said Lawrence.
Liebert's mouth snapped shut, and he looked up at Holo with despair in his eyes.
Slowly, very slowly, Holo's white breath emerged from between her teeth.
"I-I-I, I th-thought, I thought we were paying too much compensation. Remelio, too. At this rate we'd use all the p-profit paying our debts and have nothing to keep. Remelio told me to do something about it. I h-had to. I had no choice. Y-you underst-stand, don't you? After all, we're both merch—"
He was cut off when Lawrence punched him in the nose.
"I'm nothing like you."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" Holo laughed heartily, taking her paw off the again unconscious Liebert.
"So that is how it is. The Remelio Company had planned to kill you, Norah. I swear this to you—they betrayed us."
Norah's expression was blank, but the situation seemed to be slowly seeping into her head nonetheless.
She looked up slowly at Lawrence.
"B-but, what about the wolves in the forest...?"
"That was something else," interjected Holo, causing Norah to give a small yelp of surprise. Holo's voice carried well, after all.
"I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. What was in that forest was nothing more than a brat whose only redeeming feature was its sense of territory. I've prudence enough to avoid a pointless fight over something like that."
Norah listened to Holo with a half-credulous expression, then smiled helplessly as she slowly let go of Enek. "I don't know why, Miss Holo, but somehow when you say it, I kind of believe you."
"Incidentally, your dog was never smitten with me. He simply realized my true form. I thought I should let you know."
"Wha—?" said Norah, surprised, at which point Enek gave a single angry bark.
"Now then, Norah, back to the issue at hand," said Lawrence. He felt bad about changing the subject yet again, but the affair was not yet settled.
The gold was still in transit, and Lawrence's debt was yet unpaid. There was also the issue of what to do about the Remelio Company.
"We're in the middle of a kind of storm right now. However, by the grace of God, somehow we've recovered the gold. If Liebert is to be believed, it's worth six hundred lumione. However, if we can bring it into Ruvinheigen and sell it to a broker, we should get close to ten times that—six thousand lumione."
Norah seemed to quail at the huge figures, which were so big that even Lawrence had trouble wrapping his head around them.
"Six thousand is far more than we could possibly take receipt of, and even without facing that danger, we have six hundred in hand right now. However..."
"How...ever?"

Output:
Holo nudged the side of Lawrence's face with her nose and not in a playful fashion.
Lawrence understood what she was trying to do.
"Thus, I propose the following."
"Now, hold—," Holo began, her tone displeased, but Lawrence would not yield.
"Holo. We do not live in a fairy-tale world. We cannot simply take revenge on those who have betrayed us and say, 'The end.' We have to live on after this. And taking revenge for betrayal only invites more revenge."
"Well, then—"
"Are you going to tell me you'd kill the entire ruined company?"
"Um—"
"In the end, I don't want the bread I buy tomorrow to have been paid for in blood. There are many ways to end this, but if we want to have a life tomorrow, we have to choose to do so."
Holo's amber eyes closed.
She looked away.
"If it weren't for you, I'd be freezing to death by the forest right now. I'm well aware that if you hadn't been here, all would be lost, and I thank you for hearing my plea. But—"
"Enough. Enough, I say. Ah, my travel companion is tiresome beyond words!" said Holo, hitting Lawrence's head lightly with her chin. It hurt, but if this satisfied her selfishness, it was a small price to pay.
"Then here's what I'll have you do."
"You may as well! Let me just say this—I'll carry out whatever duties your undoubtedly tiresome plan asks of me, so you may as well ask away."
Lawrence smiled, thankful beyond words, and took a deep breath before turning back to Norah.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Here's what I propose we do."
Having listened to the strange exchange between Holo and Lawrence, Norah straightened herself and looked up.
"I'd like you to decide whether or not to bring the gold into Ruvinheigen."
"Wha—?"
It was an obvious question. Without any further risk, she had six hundred lumione on hand. Of course, six thousand was an unimaginable gain over that, but it would mean risking her life again.
"However, if you bring it into Ruvinheigen, the huge profit will save both us and the Remelio Company."
At this, Norah let slip a small "Oh."
"On the other hand, if you decide to take it, then all of these fallen men here, along with their families in Ruvinheigen and the other remnants of the company, will all glimpse hell. Some of them will not be spared its wrath. But in their hearts, they will bear a grudge against three demons—that is to say, me, Holo, and you, Norah."
Even for someone who lived by travel, being the object of such animosity from so many people could make life far more dangerous. Business consisted of exchanges between people. The location of Lawrence, Holo, and Norah would eventually be found and swords put to their throats.
There was another important point to make.
"Of course, if we flee to some foreign land with a foreign tongue, we can live as though nothing happened. But even living without the fear of revenge, suppose you came across a slave with a familiar face being whipped like a workhorse? Would you be able to sleep that night?"
Lawrence paused, allowing the words to sink in.
"However, I will have the Remelio Company make amends."
Holo grinned unpleasantly.
"We're headed there next. For your part, Norah, please make your decision by tomorrow morning. If you decide to bring the gold into Ruvinheigen, we'll meet at the same plaza where we first discussed this. I'll go into the city first, secure a trustworthy butcher, and wait by the eastern gate for one day. If you decide not to bring it in...Hm. Let us meet in Poroson."
This plan did, of course, leave room for another betrayal.
Norah could take all of the gold herself and set off for some other town.
For all of them to live on without regret, though, it would be best if she brought the gold into Ruvinheigen so the Remelio Company could be saved and the money divided equitably.


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

Input:
Holo nudged the side of Lawrence's face with her nose and not in a playful fashion.
Lawrence understood what she was trying to do.
"Thus, I propose the following."
"Now, hold—," Holo began, her tone displeased, but Lawrence would not yield.
"Holo. We do not live in a fairy-tale world. We cannot simply take revenge on those who have betrayed us and say, 'The end.' We have to live on after this. And taking revenge for betrayal only invites more revenge."
"Well, then—"
"Are you going to tell me you'd kill the entire ruined company?"
"Um—"
"In the end, I don't want the bread I buy tomorrow to have been paid for in blood. There are many ways to end this, but if we want to have a life tomorrow, we have to choose to do so."
Holo's amber eyes closed.
She looked away.
"If it weren't for you, I'd be freezing to death by the forest right now. I'm well aware that if you hadn't been here, all would be lost, and I thank you for hearing my plea. But—"
"Enough. Enough, I say. Ah, my travel companion is tiresome beyond words!" said Holo, hitting Lawrence's head lightly with her chin. It hurt, but if this satisfied her selfishness, it was a small price to pay.
"Then here's what I'll have you do."
"You may as well! Let me just say this—I'll carry out whatever duties your undoubtedly tiresome plan asks of me, so you may as well ask away."
Lawrence smiled, thankful beyond words, and took a deep breath before turning back to Norah.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Here's what I propose we do."
Having listened to the strange exchange between Holo and Lawrence, Norah straightened herself and looked up.
"I'd like you to decide whether or not to bring the gold into Ruvinheigen."
"Wha—?"
It was an obvious question. Without any further risk, she had six hundred lumione on hand. Of course, six thousand was an unimaginable gain over that, but it would mean risking her life again.
"However, if you bring it into Ruvinheigen, the huge profit will save both us and the Remelio Company."
At this, Norah let slip a small "Oh."
"On the other hand, if you decide to take it, then all of these fallen men here, along with their families in Ruvinheigen and the other remnants of the company, will all glimpse hell. Some of them will not be spared its wrath. But in their hearts, they will bear a grudge against three demons—that is to say, me, Holo, and you, Norah."
Even for someone who lived by travel, being the object of such animosity from so many people could make life far more dangerous. Business consisted of exchanges between people. The location of Lawrence, Holo, and Norah would eventually be found and swords put to their throats.
There was another important point to make.
"Of course, if we flee to some foreign land with a foreign tongue, we can live as though nothing happened. But even living without the fear of revenge, suppose you came across a slave with a familiar face being whipped like a workhorse? Would you be able to sleep that night?"
Lawrence paused, allowing the words to sink in.
"However, I will have the Remelio Company make amends."
Holo grinned unpleasantly.
"We're headed there next. For your part, Norah, please make your decision by tomorrow morning. If you decide to bring the gold into Ruvinheigen, we'll meet at the same plaza where we first discussed this. I'll go into the city first, secure a trustworthy butcher, and wait by the eastern gate for one day. If you decide not to bring it in...Hm. Let us meet in Poroson."
This plan did, of course, leave room for another betrayal.
Norah could take all of the gold herself and set off for some other town.
For all of them to live on without regret, though, it would be best if she brought the gold into Ruvinheigen so the Remelio Company could be saved and the money divided equitably.

Output:
Lawrence wasn't particularly trying to give Norah time to think, but in any case, while waiting for her reply, he went among the unconscious Remelio men and tied them up. He had no rope, so he used the sleeves of their coats. Even if the men cooperated to undo the knots, none of them seemed in any condition to do anything strenuous.
"Well then, Norah. We'll meet again," said Lawrence once he finished binding the men and had Holo knock out the few who were regaining consciousness.
He didn't say that to try and persuade her of anything in particular.
It was merely to ascertain her trust and bring about a favorable outcome for all.
The moon shone vaguely through the thick clouds.
"M-Mr. Lawrence!"
He stopped as she called his name.
"We-we'll meet again!"
He looked over his shoulder to see her holding her staff.
"We will," he said. "And we'll be rich."
Norah smiled and nodded.
Enek barked and began to round up the sheep.
"Well, now."
After they walked for a while, Lawrence starting thinking about riding on Holo's back, but she had apparently already anticipated that and spoke up just in time to cut him off.
"What?" he said, just slightly irritated. He was sure she had chosen that exact moment on purpose.
"Might I hear the truth now?"
Holo looked at him evenly with her large eyes. Lies would not avail him—he had told Liebert the same thing.
Lawrence was aware of the pained grimace that distorted his face.
"Let me keep up the pretense a bit longer."
"Heh-heh. No."
Looking at her happily wagging tail, Lawrence knew she would keep asking until he relented.
He quickly gave up the deception.
"That's not enough gold."
"Oh ho."
"There is no way that's six hundred lumione. It's a hundred, at best."
"Your share would be used up just paying your debt. If she doesn't smuggle it in, there'll be no profit at all."
The tip of her big tail brushed against the back of his neck. He slapped it away; she growled playfully.
"The Remelio Company must be up against the wall. They must have scraped together a hundred lumione hoping just to get by on that. Of course, they knew from the start they'd have to pay us enough to keep our mouths shut, but that's precisely why they got on board the plan with us in the first place."
And yet Lawrence's position was such that he had no choice but to trust and rely on that same company.
"Hmph. Still, that was certainly a skillful excuse you gave her. You're like unto a saint."
"It was mostly sincere."
***
Holo chuckled through her nose, then stopped, and crouched down.
"Get on."
"What, no more interrogation?"
"I tire of your foolishness."
Narrowing her amber eyes, she nudged him with her muzzle.
It was but a light touch, yet Lawrence nearly stumbled and fell, though his fear at Holo's wolf form was by now entirely gone.
"Still, we're not just saving the Remelio Company out of charity."
"Oh?"
Lawrence grabbed on to Holo's fur and brought his legs up.
"No. We're doing it to make more money for ourselves."
He swung his legs quickly over her back.
"More money, eh? I cannot say I follow you."
"Merchants can convert all sorts of things into money. I have to be of some occasional use."
At first, he thought she was teasing him, but Holo's laugh was genuine.
"I look forward to observing your skill, sir!"
Holo got to her feet and began to walk, soon breaking into a run.
The golden moon was occasionally visible in the dark sky.
Perhaps owing to the rain that had fallen since noon, the Ruvinheigen night was exceptionally quiet.
"...Th-there must be some kind of problem. Right? Like when you've forgotten to put salt in the soup."
Lawrence knew only too well that merchants were people who, no matter the circumstance, lived by telling lies.
However, trust was important, even among liars—merchants were strange creatures indeed.
Lawrence pondered this.


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

Input:
Lawrence wasn't particularly trying to give Norah time to think, but in any case, while waiting for her reply, he went among the unconscious Remelio men and tied them up. He had no rope, so he used the sleeves of their coats. Even if the men cooperated to undo the knots, none of them seemed in any condition to do anything strenuous.
"Well then, Norah. We'll meet again," said Lawrence once he finished binding the men and had Holo knock out the few who were regaining consciousness.
He didn't say that to try and persuade her of anything in particular.
It was merely to ascertain her trust and bring about a favorable outcome for all.
The moon shone vaguely through the thick clouds.
"M-Mr. Lawrence!"
He stopped as she called his name.
"We-we'll meet again!"
He looked over his shoulder to see her holding her staff.
"We will," he said. "And we'll be rich."
Norah smiled and nodded.
Enek barked and began to round up the sheep.
"Well, now."
After they walked for a while, Lawrence starting thinking about riding on Holo's back, but she had apparently already anticipated that and spoke up just in time to cut him off.
"What?" he said, just slightly irritated. He was sure she had chosen that exact moment on purpose.
"Might I hear the truth now?"
Holo looked at him evenly with her large eyes. Lies would not avail him—he had told Liebert the same thing.
Lawrence was aware of the pained grimace that distorted his face.
"Let me keep up the pretense a bit longer."
"Heh-heh. No."
Looking at her happily wagging tail, Lawrence knew she would keep asking until he relented.
He quickly gave up the deception.
"That's not enough gold."
"Oh ho."
"There is no way that's six hundred lumione. It's a hundred, at best."
"Your share would be used up just paying your debt. If she doesn't smuggle it in, there'll be no profit at all."
The tip of her big tail brushed against the back of his neck. He slapped it away; she growled playfully.
"The Remelio Company must be up against the wall. They must have scraped together a hundred lumione hoping just to get by on that. Of course, they knew from the start they'd have to pay us enough to keep our mouths shut, but that's precisely why they got on board the plan with us in the first place."
And yet Lawrence's position was such that he had no choice but to trust and rely on that same company.
"Hmph. Still, that was certainly a skillful excuse you gave her. You're like unto a saint."
"It was mostly sincere."
***
Holo chuckled through her nose, then stopped, and crouched down.
"Get on."
"What, no more interrogation?"
"I tire of your foolishness."
Narrowing her amber eyes, she nudged him with her muzzle.
It was but a light touch, yet Lawrence nearly stumbled and fell, though his fear at Holo's wolf form was by now entirely gone.
"Still, we're not just saving the Remelio Company out of charity."
"Oh?"
Lawrence grabbed on to Holo's fur and brought his legs up.
"No. We're doing it to make more money for ourselves."
He swung his legs quickly over her back.
"More money, eh? I cannot say I follow you."
"Merchants can convert all sorts of things into money. I have to be of some occasional use."
At first, he thought she was teasing him, but Holo's laugh was genuine.
"I look forward to observing your skill, sir!"
Holo got to her feet and began to walk, soon breaking into a run.
The golden moon was occasionally visible in the dark sky.
Perhaps owing to the rain that had fallen since noon, the Ruvinheigen night was exceptionally quiet.
"...Th-there must be some kind of problem. Right? Like when you've forgotten to put salt in the soup."
Lawrence knew only too well that merchants were people who, no matter the circumstance, lived by telling lies.
However, trust was important, even among liars—merchants were strange creatures indeed.
Lawrence pondered this.

Output:
The man's voice was hoarse and difficult to hear through the emotion, but this was no delicate business negotiation. As long as Lawrence could understand the gist, it was good enough.
"Mr. Remelio."
"Y-y-yaaagh!"
Remelio gave a short cry because his head was firmly clamped between Holo's jaws, and he felt her increase the pressure just a bit.
Lawrence and Holo were fortunate that he had been alone in the office, waiting for his employees to return.
Just a moment ago, Holo had jumped over the city walls with unbelievable ease. Lawrence had planned to reenter the city with Holo in human form and simply claim they had been waylaid by bandits, but Holo, who could sense any presence on the other side of the wall, said simply, "It's safe," and cleared it with a single leap. It had been so easy that Lawrence wondered if they could have avoided all this trouble in the first place and smuggled the gold in themselves.
They entered the city unseen and, once Holo had temporarily returned to her human form, stole quietly to the Remelio Company.
Remelio had been expecting the return of his men, so when he saw Holo and Lawrence, he made quite a face.
He was now tied up and on the floor, head trapped between Holo's terrifying teeth, looking as though he might die from terror.
It seemed imprudent to let Remelio see Holo's wolf form, but he and Lawrence both shared the secret of the gold smuggling. If Remelio wanted to go to the Church with the revelation, let him—there was a mountain of circumstantial evidence.
No merchant would speak of his opponent's weakness when his opponent could easily do the same to him.
Also, letting Holo terrify Remelio would make her feel better, and the overwhelming terror would discourage the master from trying to exact revenge on them later.
Unsurprisingly, the results had been immense.
"The jaws that now hold your head between their teeth are the jaws of truth, my friend. If you lie, they will know. Also, this wolf is hungry from being made to run all night, I hear. If you lie, your head may just be devoured."
Holo's fangs squeezed just slightly harder against Remelio's temple.
He couldn't even scream anymore.
"All right, Mr. Remelio. Know that I have not returned to take revenge for your betrayal. I've come to talk business."
A bit of light returned to Remelio's eyes at the word business, perhaps realizing that business was about making deals, and if a deal could be made there was the possibility that he would not die here.
"Our negotiations begin now. Feel free to lie in your interest as much as you wish. However, the wolf here is far more discerning than I and can see the hidden meaning behind your every word. If you do anything clumsy, you may wind up a head shorter. Are we clear?"
With his head stuck in Holo's jaws, Remelio couldn't very well nod, but he tried to, and that was good enough.
"Then let's begin," said Lawrence frankly. "In the event that we succeed in the gold smuggling, might I ask you to purchase it from us at five hundred lumione?"
Remelio's eyes were literally dots.
"We are still accomplices to smuggling. Surely you didn't think we'd come back to take revenge on you after making off with the gold?"
The salt-and-pepper-haired Remelio nodded like a chastened child, at which Lawrence grinned bitterly. "Well, I won't say there's no chance of that, but no, I don't think so. But if we don't talk about what to do when we succeed—well, we might wind up disagreeing, mightn't we?"
Holo chuckled deep in her throat, causing Remelio's head to quiver along with her mouth; his face tensed in a nervous grin.
"So, I'll say it again. Might I ask you to purchase the gold from us at five hundred lumione?"
Remelio's face was distorted with despair—he knew how much the gold bought in Lamtra was really worth.
"I can't possibly do—"
"Of course, I don't expect it all in cash up front. Let's see. Perhaps you could write me an IOU?"


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

Input:
The man's voice was hoarse and difficult to hear through the emotion, but this was no delicate business negotiation. As long as Lawrence could understand the gist, it was good enough.
"Mr. Remelio."
"Y-y-yaaagh!"
Remelio gave a short cry because his head was firmly clamped between Holo's jaws, and he felt her increase the pressure just a bit.
Lawrence and Holo were fortunate that he had been alone in the office, waiting for his employees to return.
Just a moment ago, Holo had jumped over the city walls with unbelievable ease. Lawrence had planned to reenter the city with Holo in human form and simply claim they had been waylaid by bandits, but Holo, who could sense any presence on the other side of the wall, said simply, "It's safe," and cleared it with a single leap. It had been so easy that Lawrence wondered if they could have avoided all this trouble in the first place and smuggled the gold in themselves.
They entered the city unseen and, once Holo had temporarily returned to her human form, stole quietly to the Remelio Company.
Remelio had been expecting the return of his men, so when he saw Holo and Lawrence, he made quite a face.
He was now tied up and on the floor, head trapped between Holo's terrifying teeth, looking as though he might die from terror.
It seemed imprudent to let Remelio see Holo's wolf form, but he and Lawrence both shared the secret of the gold smuggling. If Remelio wanted to go to the Church with the revelation, let him—there was a mountain of circumstantial evidence.
No merchant would speak of his opponent's weakness when his opponent could easily do the same to him.
Also, letting Holo terrify Remelio would make her feel better, and the overwhelming terror would discourage the master from trying to exact revenge on them later.
Unsurprisingly, the results had been immense.
"The jaws that now hold your head between their teeth are the jaws of truth, my friend. If you lie, they will know. Also, this wolf is hungry from being made to run all night, I hear. If you lie, your head may just be devoured."
Holo's fangs squeezed just slightly harder against Remelio's temple.
He couldn't even scream anymore.
"All right, Mr. Remelio. Know that I have not returned to take revenge for your betrayal. I've come to talk business."
A bit of light returned to Remelio's eyes at the word business, perhaps realizing that business was about making deals, and if a deal could be made there was the possibility that he would not die here.
"Our negotiations begin now. Feel free to lie in your interest as much as you wish. However, the wolf here is far more discerning than I and can see the hidden meaning behind your every word. If you do anything clumsy, you may wind up a head shorter. Are we clear?"
With his head stuck in Holo's jaws, Remelio couldn't very well nod, but he tried to, and that was good enough.
"Then let's begin," said Lawrence frankly. "In the event that we succeed in the gold smuggling, might I ask you to purchase it from us at five hundred lumione?"
Remelio's eyes were literally dots.
"We are still accomplices to smuggling. Surely you didn't think we'd come back to take revenge on you after making off with the gold?"
The salt-and-pepper-haired Remelio nodded like a chastened child, at which Lawrence grinned bitterly. "Well, I won't say there's no chance of that, but no, I don't think so. But if we don't talk about what to do when we succeed—well, we might wind up disagreeing, mightn't we?"
Holo chuckled deep in her throat, causing Remelio's head to quiver along with her mouth; his face tensed in a nervous grin.
"So, I'll say it again. Might I ask you to purchase the gold from us at five hundred lumione?"
Remelio's face was distorted with despair—he knew how much the gold bought in Lamtra was really worth.
"I can't possibly do—"
"Of course, I don't expect it all in cash up front. Let's see. Perhaps you could write me an IOU?"

Output:
He made a pained expression when he understood what Lawrence was saying and begged for mercy. "F-five hundred, that's simply—"
"Too much? Well, hmm. In that case, I'll just take whatever you've hidden away here and sell the gold to someone else." Lawrence exchanged a look with Holo, then added, "Also, I'll let that demon there have your life."
Holo hated being called a god, but she apparently didn't mind being called a demon.
Her tail swished through the air, and she panted dramatically.
All expression drained rapidly from Remelio's face.
If Lawrence's guess was right, it meant Remelio would now do whatever they asked.
"You see, Mr. Remelio, I don't think it's fair to lose everything because of a single failure. We can't perfectly predict every price drop, can we? So I want to give you another chance. But I want you to be grateful for it, and I want that to take the form of five hundred lumione. You've built a wonderful company with a magnificent loading dock in a city like this. If you think in terms of decades, surely five hundred is a bargain."
Remelio's eyes opened wide, and after a moment, he began to cry.
If he could rebuild his business, paying five hundred lumione back over the course of ten years was far from an unreasonable proposition. A traveling merchant was no match for a trading company in that regard.
Perhaps those tears were from the prospect of managing a revived company.
"So you'll write the note, then? Holo—"
Upon hearing her name, Holo sighed and reluctantly released Remelio, nudging his head with the tip of her nose.
Lawrence untied the rope that bound Remelio and continued. "The terms will be yearly installments over ten years. The first will be ten lumione. The last will be one hundred. You understand, yes?"
It meant that the debt would increase every year. Added all up it came to 550 lumione, but that was still an excellent interest rate.
If Remelio could get his company running successfully again, it would not be a difficult amount to manage.
"You can write it out at that desk."
Remelio nodded and accepted Lawrence's hand to get to his feet. His feet were still tied, so he tottered over to the desk and sat.
"S-so, should this be payable to...," began Remelio, turning around.
Lawrence smiled and answered, "The Rowen Trade Guild."
Remelio grinned almost sadly, realizing he would never be able to run from this debt.
If Lawrence held the loan personally, then as the years passed and Remelio gained strength, he could get revenge or default on the repayment. Also, Lawrence dreaded the thought of having to return every year to the people who had wronged him in order to demand his money.
And more important still was the Remelio Company's current utter lack of assets. No matter how many IOUs he might hold, Lawrence would see none of this money for a year. Even if the debt he had originally owed the company was now gone, the profits from the gold smuggling might be used up compensating Norah and paying obligations for the Remelio Company's recovery. In the worst case, Norah might not even get her consideration.
But all those problems were solved by having the trade guild to which Lawrence was attached hold the loan. By selling the IOU to the Rowen Trade Guild relatively cheaply, he could cut his ties with the Remelio Company and convert ten years of repayment into immediate cash.
Also, defaulting on a loan held by a trade guild was like declaring war on another city. The Remelio Company would never dare to default.
"You're a formidable man."
"Not as formidable as the wolf," Lawrence answered smoothly.
The wolf found the joke funnier than anyone.
"Now, all we need to do is pray the smuggling succeeds."
***
Afterward, things were busy.


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

Input:
He made a pained expression when he understood what Lawrence was saying and begged for mercy. "F-five hundred, that's simply—"
"Too much? Well, hmm. In that case, I'll just take whatever you've hidden away here and sell the gold to someone else." Lawrence exchanged a look with Holo, then added, "Also, I'll let that demon there have your life."
Holo hated being called a god, but she apparently didn't mind being called a demon.
Her tail swished through the air, and she panted dramatically.
All expression drained rapidly from Remelio's face.
If Lawrence's guess was right, it meant Remelio would now do whatever they asked.
"You see, Mr. Remelio, I don't think it's fair to lose everything because of a single failure. We can't perfectly predict every price drop, can we? So I want to give you another chance. But I want you to be grateful for it, and I want that to take the form of five hundred lumione. You've built a wonderful company with a magnificent loading dock in a city like this. If you think in terms of decades, surely five hundred is a bargain."
Remelio's eyes opened wide, and after a moment, he began to cry.
If he could rebuild his business, paying five hundred lumione back over the course of ten years was far from an unreasonable proposition. A traveling merchant was no match for a trading company in that regard.
Perhaps those tears were from the prospect of managing a revived company.
"So you'll write the note, then? Holo—"
Upon hearing her name, Holo sighed and reluctantly released Remelio, nudging his head with the tip of her nose.
Lawrence untied the rope that bound Remelio and continued. "The terms will be yearly installments over ten years. The first will be ten lumione. The last will be one hundred. You understand, yes?"
It meant that the debt would increase every year. Added all up it came to 550 lumione, but that was still an excellent interest rate.
If Remelio could get his company running successfully again, it would not be a difficult amount to manage.
"You can write it out at that desk."
Remelio nodded and accepted Lawrence's hand to get to his feet. His feet were still tied, so he tottered over to the desk and sat.
"S-so, should this be payable to...," began Remelio, turning around.
Lawrence smiled and answered, "The Rowen Trade Guild."
Remelio grinned almost sadly, realizing he would never be able to run from this debt.
If Lawrence held the loan personally, then as the years passed and Remelio gained strength, he could get revenge or default on the repayment. Also, Lawrence dreaded the thought of having to return every year to the people who had wronged him in order to demand his money.
And more important still was the Remelio Company's current utter lack of assets. No matter how many IOUs he might hold, Lawrence would see none of this money for a year. Even if the debt he had originally owed the company was now gone, the profits from the gold smuggling might be used up compensating Norah and paying obligations for the Remelio Company's recovery. In the worst case, Norah might not even get her consideration.
But all those problems were solved by having the trade guild to which Lawrence was attached hold the loan. By selling the IOU to the Rowen Trade Guild relatively cheaply, he could cut his ties with the Remelio Company and convert ten years of repayment into immediate cash.
Also, defaulting on a loan held by a trade guild was like declaring war on another city. The Remelio Company would never dare to default.
"You're a formidable man."
"Not as formidable as the wolf," Lawrence answered smoothly.
The wolf found the joke funnier than anyone.
"Now, all we need to do is pray the smuggling succeeds."
***
Afterward, things were busy.

Output:
Lawrence was greeted heartily by the members of the trade guild, who had gathered there to drink after the end of the business day. He endured many vulgar questions about the wound on his face before finally reaching Jakob.
It wouldn't have been at all strange for people from the Remelio Company to come beating down the door demanding repayment, but neither they nor Lawrence had been seen. Jakob had probably been worried sick ever since Lawrence's debt had been incurred.
Unsurprisingly, Jakob's first reaction upon seeing Lawrence's face was to angrily give his skull a sound rapping.
But then his face split in a tearful smile, and he threw his arms wide, relieved that Lawrence was safe.
Lawrence turned the IOU over to Jakob, who could probably guess, in a broad sense, at what had happened. He brought a purse full of seldom-seen gold lumione coins out from within the guild and bought the IOU on the spot.
Of course, now there was a merchant who had entered his term of service. It had been entirely possible that the gold smuggling would not succeed, in which case the Remelio Company's physical assets and accounts receivable would have been sold off to pay its debts. Normally, when a company failed, its assets were liquidated and divided proportionally among the creditors, so a five hundred lumione note from the Remelio Company would not be immediately worthless even if the gold smuggling had failed. In short, Jakob bought the IOU up at an amount that corresponded to the smuggling gamble.
Taking all those possibilities into account, Jakob had valued the IOU somewhat conservatively at thirty lumione.
If the smuggling succeeded, there was the promise of an additional hundred lumione. That was significantly less than the face value of the IOU, but there was a high probability that the recovered Remelio Company would still go bankrupt within ten years. It was a reasonable price.
Lawrence gave twenty lumione to Jakob as a way of compensating him for the damage caused to the Rowen Trade Guild's good name. He intended to use the rest that Jakob gave him as a bribe to keep the butchers quiet if they had to slaughter the sheep.
With the hundred additional lumione he might have from the success of the smuggling, Lawrence had to compensate Norah the twenty lumione she was due, and he planned to give more by way of apology to the various trading companies he had begged for loans. If that came to thirty lumione, that still left him with fifty for himself.
Somehow, he would be back to where he was when he had sold off his pepper in Poroson.
Given that at one point he had resigned himself to dying aboard a slave ship, this could only be called a miracle.
Next, Lawrence used his guild connections to get introduced to a butcher whose discretion could be trusted. He secured a promise from the butcher to receive the sheep from Norah and butcher them, no questions asked, for ten lumione. He was paying the butcher very well and had every expectation that things would proceed smoothly.
After making the various preparations, Lawrence returned to the Remelio Company to retrieve his clothes and then left Remelio to round up and rehire his former employees, who were probably all huddled together, shivering in the cold weather. Lawrence also ordered Remelio to return his cart horse, which he had forgotten about entirely. He was a bit sharp in saying so, as he expected his orders to be carried out quickly.
By the time Lawrence finished all his preparations, the night sky was beginning to pale with the dawn.
He walked along the street quietly in the early morning, a chill still in the air from the previous day's rain.
His destination was a tavern that was able to remain open all night, courtesy of bribes paid to the appropriate authorities.
The distinctive pale blue sky of dawn hung over the city. An out-of-place lamp, still burning, marked the tavern.
"Welcome."


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

Input:
Lawrence was greeted heartily by the members of the trade guild, who had gathered there to drink after the end of the business day. He endured many vulgar questions about the wound on his face before finally reaching Jakob.
It wouldn't have been at all strange for people from the Remelio Company to come beating down the door demanding repayment, but neither they nor Lawrence had been seen. Jakob had probably been worried sick ever since Lawrence's debt had been incurred.
Unsurprisingly, Jakob's first reaction upon seeing Lawrence's face was to angrily give his skull a sound rapping.
But then his face split in a tearful smile, and he threw his arms wide, relieved that Lawrence was safe.
Lawrence turned the IOU over to Jakob, who could probably guess, in a broad sense, at what had happened. He brought a purse full of seldom-seen gold lumione coins out from within the guild and bought the IOU on the spot.
Of course, now there was a merchant who had entered his term of service. It had been entirely possible that the gold smuggling would not succeed, in which case the Remelio Company's physical assets and accounts receivable would have been sold off to pay its debts. Normally, when a company failed, its assets were liquidated and divided proportionally among the creditors, so a five hundred lumione note from the Remelio Company would not be immediately worthless even if the gold smuggling had failed. In short, Jakob bought the IOU up at an amount that corresponded to the smuggling gamble.
Taking all those possibilities into account, Jakob had valued the IOU somewhat conservatively at thirty lumione.
If the smuggling succeeded, there was the promise of an additional hundred lumione. That was significantly less than the face value of the IOU, but there was a high probability that the recovered Remelio Company would still go bankrupt within ten years. It was a reasonable price.
Lawrence gave twenty lumione to Jakob as a way of compensating him for the damage caused to the Rowen Trade Guild's good name. He intended to use the rest that Jakob gave him as a bribe to keep the butchers quiet if they had to slaughter the sheep.
With the hundred additional lumione he might have from the success of the smuggling, Lawrence had to compensate Norah the twenty lumione she was due, and he planned to give more by way of apology to the various trading companies he had begged for loans. If that came to thirty lumione, that still left him with fifty for himself.
Somehow, he would be back to where he was when he had sold off his pepper in Poroson.
Given that at one point he had resigned himself to dying aboard a slave ship, this could only be called a miracle.
Next, Lawrence used his guild connections to get introduced to a butcher whose discretion could be trusted. He secured a promise from the butcher to receive the sheep from Norah and butcher them, no questions asked, for ten lumione. He was paying the butcher very well and had every expectation that things would proceed smoothly.
After making the various preparations, Lawrence returned to the Remelio Company to retrieve his clothes and then left Remelio to round up and rehire his former employees, who were probably all huddled together, shivering in the cold weather. Lawrence also ordered Remelio to return his cart horse, which he had forgotten about entirely. He was a bit sharp in saying so, as he expected his orders to be carried out quickly.
By the time Lawrence finished all his preparations, the night sky was beginning to pale with the dawn.
He walked along the street quietly in the early morning, a chill still in the air from the previous day's rain.
His destination was a tavern that was able to remain open all night, courtesy of bribes paid to the appropriate authorities.
The distinctive pale blue sky of dawn hung over the city. An out-of-place lamp, still burning, marked the tavern.
"Welcome."

Output:
The tavern was perhaps half-full, though surprisingly quiet; the patrons drank their wine quietly, perhaps mourning the inevitable daybreak.
"Ho there."
Lawrence turned to face the voice and found Holo, who had appeared at his side holding a small cask and some bread. If a priest had spotted Holo (who was dressed again as a town girl) in the all-night tavern, there might have been some real problems—but nobody seemed to mind her presence.
Holo caught the eye of the tavern master behind the counter, and he sleepily waved to her. Holo had probably charmed the goods she was carrying out of the master with some sweet talk.
"Come, let's go."
Lawrence had actually wanted to sit and rest for a moment, but Holo took his hand and would not be argued with.
"Come again," said the tavern master as they left.
The two had no particular destination and for the time being were content to walk.
It was cold outside. Thanks to the humidity, their breath hung in the air.
"Here. Bread," Holo said, and Lawrence's stomach groaned as he realized that he had not eaten since midday the day before. Lawrence took the bread—actually a bacon and vegetable sandwich—from the happily smiling Holo and bit into it without hesitation.
"Also, this." Holo held out the small cask.
Once he uncorked and put his lips to the cask, it proved to contain a warm mixture of mead and milk.
"'Tis good for what ails you."
The warm, sweet liquor was perfect.
"Now, then," said Holo. She probably hadn't meant the food and drink to loosen his tongue per se, but as he finished eating, she began to speak.
"I have two questions to put to you."
Lawrence braced himself for the worst.
Holo paused for a moment.
"How far do you trust that girl?" she asked, not looking at him.
It was a question he both had and had not expected. The fact that Holo had left the time, place, and circumstances unclear meant that there was probably some vague doubt in her own mind.
Lawrence took another drink from the cask. "I don't know how far I trust her," he said without glancing at Holo. "However, I do know that if Norah were to take the gold and disappear somewhere, she would be easily followed. I don't trust her enough to think that would happen and still have handed her the gold."
Holo was silent.
"Unless she travels a significant distance, no one will buy it up at a reasonable price, and tales of a shepherdess just happening to sell off gold are rare enough to travel far and wide. She would be easy to follow."
It was certain that he did not trust Norah absolutely. As a merchant, Lawrence was always thinking of the contingencies.
"I see. I suppose that is the size of it, then."
"And the other question?" Lawrence asked.
Holo faced him with an inscrutable expression.
It wasn't anger. It was, perhaps, hesitation.
But hesitation about what? Lawrence wondered.
He found it hard to imagine that she was vascillating over whether or not to ask the question at all.
"Whatever it is, I'll answer it. I owe you a huge debt, after all."
He took a bite of the now-cold sandwich, washing it down with liquor.
The golden light of the dawn began to reflect on the cobblestone streets.
"Are you not going to ask?" inquired Lawrence.
Holo took a deep breath. She grabbed his sleeve. Her hand trembled—either because of the cold or something else.
"Hm?"
"Do—do you remember..." Holo looked at him with uncertain eyes. "When I was facing the dog and the girl..., whose name did you call out?"
She did not appear to be joking.
Her eyes were seriousness itself.
"The blood was rushing in my head, and I couldn't hear. But it's been gnawing at me. I am quite sure you called someone's name. Do you remember?"
Lawrence hesitated as they walked slowly through the city streets, the sun now beginning to rise.
How should he answer? The truth was that he didn't remember.
But what if Holo actually did remember, and she was only trying to get him to confirm it?


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

Input:
The tavern was perhaps half-full, though surprisingly quiet; the patrons drank their wine quietly, perhaps mourning the inevitable daybreak.
"Ho there."
Lawrence turned to face the voice and found Holo, who had appeared at his side holding a small cask and some bread. If a priest had spotted Holo (who was dressed again as a town girl) in the all-night tavern, there might have been some real problems—but nobody seemed to mind her presence.
Holo caught the eye of the tavern master behind the counter, and he sleepily waved to her. Holo had probably charmed the goods she was carrying out of the master with some sweet talk.
"Come, let's go."
Lawrence had actually wanted to sit and rest for a moment, but Holo took his hand and would not be argued with.
"Come again," said the tavern master as they left.
The two had no particular destination and for the time being were content to walk.
It was cold outside. Thanks to the humidity, their breath hung in the air.
"Here. Bread," Holo said, and Lawrence's stomach groaned as he realized that he had not eaten since midday the day before. Lawrence took the bread—actually a bacon and vegetable sandwich—from the happily smiling Holo and bit into it without hesitation.
"Also, this." Holo held out the small cask.
Once he uncorked and put his lips to the cask, it proved to contain a warm mixture of mead and milk.
"'Tis good for what ails you."
The warm, sweet liquor was perfect.
"Now, then," said Holo. She probably hadn't meant the food and drink to loosen his tongue per se, but as he finished eating, she began to speak.
"I have two questions to put to you."
Lawrence braced himself for the worst.
Holo paused for a moment.
"How far do you trust that girl?" she asked, not looking at him.
It was a question he both had and had not expected. The fact that Holo had left the time, place, and circumstances unclear meant that there was probably some vague doubt in her own mind.
Lawrence took another drink from the cask. "I don't know how far I trust her," he said without glancing at Holo. "However, I do know that if Norah were to take the gold and disappear somewhere, she would be easily followed. I don't trust her enough to think that would happen and still have handed her the gold."
Holo was silent.
"Unless she travels a significant distance, no one will buy it up at a reasonable price, and tales of a shepherdess just happening to sell off gold are rare enough to travel far and wide. She would be easy to follow."
It was certain that he did not trust Norah absolutely. As a merchant, Lawrence was always thinking of the contingencies.
"I see. I suppose that is the size of it, then."
"And the other question?" Lawrence asked.
Holo faced him with an inscrutable expression.
It wasn't anger. It was, perhaps, hesitation.
But hesitation about what? Lawrence wondered.
He found it hard to imagine that she was vascillating over whether or not to ask the question at all.
"Whatever it is, I'll answer it. I owe you a huge debt, after all."
He took a bite of the now-cold sandwich, washing it down with liquor.
The golden light of the dawn began to reflect on the cobblestone streets.
"Are you not going to ask?" inquired Lawrence.
Holo took a deep breath. She grabbed his sleeve. Her hand trembled—either because of the cold or something else.
"Hm?"
"Do—do you remember..." Holo looked at him with uncertain eyes. "When I was facing the dog and the girl..., whose name did you call out?"
She did not appear to be joking.
Her eyes were seriousness itself.
"The blood was rushing in my head, and I couldn't hear. But it's been gnawing at me. I am quite sure you called someone's name. Do you remember?"
Lawrence hesitated as they walked slowly through the city streets, the sun now beginning to rise.
How should he answer? The truth was that he didn't remember.
But what if Holo actually did remember, and she was only trying to get him to confirm it?

Output:
In that case, saying he didn't know would mean he'd blurted out Norah's name without really knowing or remembering what he was saying.
And in that case, Holo would certainly be angry. It would be better to honestly admit he had called Norah's name and come up with some vague reason as to why.
There was another possibility, of course—that Holo really hadn't heard at all.
In which case, it would be best to say he had called her name.
Having thought it through so thoroughly, Lawrence realized the extent of his own stupidity.
The girl next to him was the Wisewolf Holo. She would see right through any lies.
In which case, the correct answer was—
"I called your name."
After looking for a moment like the eyes of an abandoned puppy, Holo's eyes flashed with hatred.
"That is a lie."
She tightened her grip on his sleeve, and Lawrence answered immediately.
"It is. The truth is I don't remember. However—"
Holo's ears flicked underneath the kerchief on her head faster than her facial expression could change.
She should know that what he had just said wasn't a lie.
"—In those circumstances, I certainly think I would've called your name," he said, looking steadily back at her.
As quickly as her eyes had flashed with hatred, Holo now looked back at him with a hint of doubt in her gaze.
There was no way to tell whether or not that was the truth; she would have to decide.
For his part, Lawrence put forth the most persuasive argument he could think of.
"Time was of the essence. I'm sure I would've unconsciously chosen to call your name. After all—"
Holo's grip tightened.
"After all, it's one letter shorter."
He could almost feel the expression drop from her face.
"Also, if I'd shouted 'Norah' even hastily, you'd be able to tell. But Holo takes but a moment to say—it would be easy to miss with blood roaring through your head. What do you think? Quite a persuasive argument—"
He didn't finish his sentence because Holo struck him in the mouth.
"Shut up."
Even her small, soft hand hurt quite a bit since Lawrence's lip was split slightly where the Remelio Company mook had struck him.
"So you called my name because it was shorter? Dunce! Fool!" she said, yanking on his sleeve. "It's infuriating that you would even think that!" She looked flatly opposite him as if to turn him away.
Lawrence wondered if it would have been better to just tell an obvious lie, but he had the feeling Holo would've been angry either way.
As they walked, they approached the east gate; there were more people around now busily setting about their day.
Holo walked slightly in front of him, alone.
Just as he wondered what she was going to do, she stopped.
"Just—" she stood there—
"—call it out," said Holo, her back turned to Lawrence.
Past her, Lawrence saw a bell at the end of a long staff.
He heard the bleating of the sheep behind a figure.
What he saw beyond Holo was a shepherd girl leading a black sheepdog.
In that very instant, he knew the smuggling had succeeded. He couldn't help but be happy. He might easily have called out Norah's name.
Lawrence smiled at Holo's clever, bald-faced actions.
The moment he opened his mouth to call out the name, he sneezed.
"Achoo!"
Now the truth of which name he called out would remain forever a mystery.
Holo looked over her shoulder, chagrined. He had gotten the better of her.
Lawrence ignored her and waved broadly three times just as when he had first met Norah on the road.
Norah noticed and returned the wave.
Holo regarded Norah over her shoulder.
That was the moment Lawrence was waiting for.
"Holo."
Her wolf ears twitched.
"Holo really is easier to call."
A puff of vapor appeared at Holo's mouth as she exhaled, admitting defeat.
"You dunce."
Lawrence loved her ticklish smile even more than the warm late-autumn sunshine.
***
It has been a while! This is Isuna Hasekura. Well, here's volume 2. I know; I'm shocked, too.


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

Input:
In that case, saying he didn't know would mean he'd blurted out Norah's name without really knowing or remembering what he was saying.
And in that case, Holo would certainly be angry. It would be better to honestly admit he had called Norah's name and come up with some vague reason as to why.
There was another possibility, of course—that Holo really hadn't heard at all.
In which case, it would be best to say he had called her name.
Having thought it through so thoroughly, Lawrence realized the extent of his own stupidity.
The girl next to him was the Wisewolf Holo. She would see right through any lies.
In which case, the correct answer was—
"I called your name."
After looking for a moment like the eyes of an abandoned puppy, Holo's eyes flashed with hatred.
"That is a lie."
She tightened her grip on his sleeve, and Lawrence answered immediately.
"It is. The truth is I don't remember. However—"
Holo's ears flicked underneath the kerchief on her head faster than her facial expression could change.
She should know that what he had just said wasn't a lie.
"—In those circumstances, I certainly think I would've called your name," he said, looking steadily back at her.
As quickly as her eyes had flashed with hatred, Holo now looked back at him with a hint of doubt in her gaze.
There was no way to tell whether or not that was the truth; she would have to decide.
For his part, Lawrence put forth the most persuasive argument he could think of.
"Time was of the essence. I'm sure I would've unconsciously chosen to call your name. After all—"
Holo's grip tightened.
"After all, it's one letter shorter."
He could almost feel the expression drop from her face.
"Also, if I'd shouted 'Norah' even hastily, you'd be able to tell. But Holo takes but a moment to say—it would be easy to miss with blood roaring through your head. What do you think? Quite a persuasive argument—"
He didn't finish his sentence because Holo struck him in the mouth.
"Shut up."
Even her small, soft hand hurt quite a bit since Lawrence's lip was split slightly where the Remelio Company mook had struck him.
"So you called my name because it was shorter? Dunce! Fool!" she said, yanking on his sleeve. "It's infuriating that you would even think that!" She looked flatly opposite him as if to turn him away.
Lawrence wondered if it would have been better to just tell an obvious lie, but he had the feeling Holo would've been angry either way.
As they walked, they approached the east gate; there were more people around now busily setting about their day.
Holo walked slightly in front of him, alone.
Just as he wondered what she was going to do, she stopped.
"Just—" she stood there—
"—call it out," said Holo, her back turned to Lawrence.
Past her, Lawrence saw a bell at the end of a long staff.
He heard the bleating of the sheep behind a figure.
What he saw beyond Holo was a shepherd girl leading a black sheepdog.
In that very instant, he knew the smuggling had succeeded. He couldn't help but be happy. He might easily have called out Norah's name.
Lawrence smiled at Holo's clever, bald-faced actions.
The moment he opened his mouth to call out the name, he sneezed.
"Achoo!"
Now the truth of which name he called out would remain forever a mystery.
Holo looked over her shoulder, chagrined. He had gotten the better of her.
Lawrence ignored her and waved broadly three times just as when he had first met Norah on the road.
Norah noticed and returned the wave.
Holo regarded Norah over her shoulder.
That was the moment Lawrence was waiting for.
"Holo."
Her wolf ears twitched.
"Holo really is easier to call."
A puff of vapor appeared at Holo's mouth as she exhaled, admitting defeat.
"You dunce."
Lawrence loved her ticklish smile even more than the warm late-autumn sunshine.
***
It has been a while! This is Isuna Hasekura. Well, here's volume 2. I know; I'm shocked, too.

Output:
I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true, even though I myself can barely believe it. You always hear about birdbrained people who forget everything after taking three steps, and that definitely fits a chicken who reads a horror story on the Net and gets so freaked out he can't even go to the bathroom, right?
Now that I think about it, there's one more surprising thing. What is it, you ask? Well, I bought stock. Having won a prize for writing a novel with a merchant as the protagonist, I put half the prize money into a certain stock. I wrote about it in the afterword for volume 1, too, and I get this evil grin on my face when I think about multiplying my money in the stock market. This time my delusions have just gotten wilder, but perhaps as a consequence of some shadowy group's trap, the stock dropped steadily for two weeks. It even fell on a day when 90 percent of the stocks on the market rose. Right behind the window I'm writing this afterword in, there's a stock tool that tells me every minute change in the price, and today it seems to be trading in a very narrow range. Although it is dropping. It seems that it's not going well, just like the novel. How odd...
I'm a sad piece of work, but I hope you've enjoyed this book.
Once again Jyuu Ayakura provided wonderful illustrations; they fit the images in my head perfectly. Thank you so much. Also, to my editor—I am so sorry for all the mistakes in my Japanese. Next time—next time, I promise!—I'll try to write the novel so we can finish in a single meeting.
And of course, to all those who hold this book in your hands, my heartfelt thanks.
I hope to see you all again in volume 3.
—Isuna Hasekura
***
Lawrence and Holo were six days out of Ruvinheigen. With each passing day, the cold grew more severe, and the sky remained frustratingly cloudy, so that even at the height of noonday, the meager wind was enough to bring a chill.
Once they drew alongside the river, the cold from the mist combined with the frigid air to make it that much more bitter.
Even the river water looked icy. It was hazy, as though the cloudy sky itself had melted into the flow.
However Lawrence and Holo may have been bundled up in secondhand winter-weather clothing they had bought in Ruvinheigen, cold was still cold.
Nevertheless, the frosty edge was dulled when Lawrence reflected with a mixture of chagrin and nostalgia on the times when, as a young merchant, he had to forego cold-weather gear in favor of cargo.
Evidently, seven years of experience would whip even a rank amateur like him into some kind of shape.
Besides the warm clothing, there was something else that mitigated the cold this year.
Lawrence had now entered the winter of his seventh year as a merchant since becoming independent at age eighteen, and he looked sideways at the person sitting next to him in the driver's seat.
Typically, he'd sat in that seat alone.
Even on those rare occasions when he did happen to be traveling with another, he would not sit in the driver's seat with Lawrence—and they certainly wouldn't have shared the same tarp over their knees for warmth.
"Is aught the matter?" asked his companion, her slightly archaic speech evident as ever.
She was a lovely girl who appeared to be in her teens, with a stunning fall of chestnut hair that would have been the envy of any noblewoman.
But what Lawrence envied was neither her flowing locks nor the expensive robe wrapped about her body.
No, what he envied was the thickly furred tail that lay across her lap as she carefully groomed it.
It was the same chestnut brown as her hair, save for its snow-white tip, and the tail was every inch as warm as it appeared to be. Were it made into a stole it would be every nobleman's wife's object of desire, but unfortunately, it was not for sale.
"Will you hurry your grooming and put your tail under the tarp again?"


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

Input:
I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true, even though I myself can barely believe it. You always hear about birdbrained people who forget everything after taking three steps, and that definitely fits a chicken who reads a horror story on the Net and gets so freaked out he can't even go to the bathroom, right?
Now that I think about it, there's one more surprising thing. What is it, you ask? Well, I bought stock. Having won a prize for writing a novel with a merchant as the protagonist, I put half the prize money into a certain stock. I wrote about it in the afterword for volume 1, too, and I get this evil grin on my face when I think about multiplying my money in the stock market. This time my delusions have just gotten wilder, but perhaps as a consequence of some shadowy group's trap, the stock dropped steadily for two weeks. It even fell on a day when 90 percent of the stocks on the market rose. Right behind the window I'm writing this afterword in, there's a stock tool that tells me every minute change in the price, and today it seems to be trading in a very narrow range. Although it is dropping. It seems that it's not going well, just like the novel. How odd...
I'm a sad piece of work, but I hope you've enjoyed this book.
Once again Jyuu Ayakura provided wonderful illustrations; they fit the images in my head perfectly. Thank you so much. Also, to my editor—I am so sorry for all the mistakes in my Japanese. Next time—next time, I promise!—I'll try to write the novel so we can finish in a single meeting.
And of course, to all those who hold this book in your hands, my heartfelt thanks.
I hope to see you all again in volume 3.
—Isuna Hasekura
***
Lawrence and Holo were six days out of Ruvinheigen. With each passing day, the cold grew more severe, and the sky remained frustratingly cloudy, so that even at the height of noonday, the meager wind was enough to bring a chill.
Once they drew alongside the river, the cold from the mist combined with the frigid air to make it that much more bitter.
Even the river water looked icy. It was hazy, as though the cloudy sky itself had melted into the flow.
However Lawrence and Holo may have been bundled up in secondhand winter-weather clothing they had bought in Ruvinheigen, cold was still cold.
Nevertheless, the frosty edge was dulled when Lawrence reflected with a mixture of chagrin and nostalgia on the times when, as a young merchant, he had to forego cold-weather gear in favor of cargo.
Evidently, seven years of experience would whip even a rank amateur like him into some kind of shape.
Besides the warm clothing, there was something else that mitigated the cold this year.
Lawrence had now entered the winter of his seventh year as a merchant since becoming independent at age eighteen, and he looked sideways at the person sitting next to him in the driver's seat.
Typically, he'd sat in that seat alone.
Even on those rare occasions when he did happen to be traveling with another, he would not sit in the driver's seat with Lawrence—and they certainly wouldn't have shared the same tarp over their knees for warmth.
"Is aught the matter?" asked his companion, her slightly archaic speech evident as ever.
She was a lovely girl who appeared to be in her teens, with a stunning fall of chestnut hair that would have been the envy of any noblewoman.
But what Lawrence envied was neither her flowing locks nor the expensive robe wrapped about her body.
No, what he envied was the thickly furred tail that lay across her lap as she carefully groomed it.
It was the same chestnut brown as her hair, save for its snow-white tip, and the tail was every inch as warm as it appeared to be. Were it made into a stole it would be every nobleman's wife's object of desire, but unfortunately, it was not for sale.
"Will you hurry your grooming and put your tail under the tarp again?"

Output:
She shot Lawrence an unpleasant glance with her red-tinged brown eyes before her lips parted, showing a flash of white fangs.
"My tail is not your personal muffler."
The tail in question flicked slightly.
That same tail, which a passing traveler or merchant would surely mistake for a simple fur of some kind, was indeed attached to its original owner, who so fastidiously groomed it. And she didn't just have a tail; underneath her hood was also a pair of pointed wolf ears.
Naturally, these ears and tail indicated that she was no mere human.
Though there were people who, possessed by fairies or demons, had this or that inhuman feature when they were born, this girl was not such a person.
Her true form was that of a colossal wolf who dwelled within wheat; she was Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. An adherent of the common Church faith would fear such an entity as a pagan god, but Lawrence was past such fear.
He was much more likely to reappropriate the tail Holo was so proud of as a lap warmer.
"It's such fine fur, though; putting it under the tarp keeps my legs as warm as a mountain of pelts would."
Just as Lawrence hoped, Holo sniffed proudly and tucked her tail back underneath the tarp across their legs.
"Anyway, will we make the town soon? We will arrive before the day is out, no?"
"Just a bit farther along this river," said Lawrence.
"And then, finally, a hot meal. I've had my fill of cold gruel. I can't stand another bite!"
Lawrence could brag of more experience eating bad cooking than Holo could, but he was in complete agreement with her.
Eating well was one of the few pleasures of travel, but even that pleasure disappeared with the arrival of winter.
In the freezing cold, the only choices were crusty rye bread or porridge made from the same, with tasteless jerky or those few vegetables that could be stored for long periods of time—garlic and onions.
With her keen sense of smell, Holo couldn't eat the aforementioned garlic or onions, and though she hated the bitter taste of rye bread, she managed to choke it down with water.
For Holo the glutton, this was not far from torture.
"Well, the town we're bound for is in the middle of a huge fair, so you can look forward to all kinds of food."
"Oh ho. But will your coin purse handle such extravagance?"
A week earlier in the city of Ruvinheigen, Lawrence's greed led him to fall into a desperate trading company's trap, and he had been on the verge of accepting complete ruin.
However, after a series of twists, he avoided that but still had not turned a profit, and indeed had come away with some loss.
As for the armor that was the cause of it all, he had wound up unloading it in Ruvinheigen for rock-bottom prices rather than transporting the heavy goods farther north, where prices were likely to be even worse.
Despite Holo's frequent requests to buy her this or that bauble, her last remark showed some consideration for Lawrence's rather dire straits.
She was frequently abrasive and high-handed, but her heart was fundamentally a good one.
"Don't worry, your food bill's within the budget."
Holo still seemed to be worried about something. "Mm..."
"Besides, I wound up not being able to get you those honeyed peach preserves I promised you. Just think of it as payment for that."
"'Tis true...and yet..."
"What?"
"I'm half-worried about your balance but half-worried about myself. If I eat too extravagantly, we'll have to stay in that much poorer lodgings."
Lawrence smiled in understanding. "Well, I was planning on staying in a decent inn. Surely you're not going to tell me it must have separate bedrooms with a fireplace in each?"
"I would not go so far as that, but it won't do to have you use my appetite as an excuse."
"An excuse for what?"
Lawrence looked ahead to correct the horse's path, at which point Holo leaned over and whispered in his ear, "For only renting a single bed, saying you lack the coin to do more. Sometimes I prefer to sleep alone."


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

Input:
She shot Lawrence an unpleasant glance with her red-tinged brown eyes before her lips parted, showing a flash of white fangs.
"My tail is not your personal muffler."
The tail in question flicked slightly.
That same tail, which a passing traveler or merchant would surely mistake for a simple fur of some kind, was indeed attached to its original owner, who so fastidiously groomed it. And she didn't just have a tail; underneath her hood was also a pair of pointed wolf ears.
Naturally, these ears and tail indicated that she was no mere human.
Though there were people who, possessed by fairies or demons, had this or that inhuman feature when they were born, this girl was not such a person.
Her true form was that of a colossal wolf who dwelled within wheat; she was Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. An adherent of the common Church faith would fear such an entity as a pagan god, but Lawrence was past such fear.
He was much more likely to reappropriate the tail Holo was so proud of as a lap warmer.
"It's such fine fur, though; putting it under the tarp keeps my legs as warm as a mountain of pelts would."
Just as Lawrence hoped, Holo sniffed proudly and tucked her tail back underneath the tarp across their legs.
"Anyway, will we make the town soon? We will arrive before the day is out, no?"
"Just a bit farther along this river," said Lawrence.
"And then, finally, a hot meal. I've had my fill of cold gruel. I can't stand another bite!"
Lawrence could brag of more experience eating bad cooking than Holo could, but he was in complete agreement with her.
Eating well was one of the few pleasures of travel, but even that pleasure disappeared with the arrival of winter.
In the freezing cold, the only choices were crusty rye bread or porridge made from the same, with tasteless jerky or those few vegetables that could be stored for long periods of time—garlic and onions.
With her keen sense of smell, Holo couldn't eat the aforementioned garlic or onions, and though she hated the bitter taste of rye bread, she managed to choke it down with water.
For Holo the glutton, this was not far from torture.
"Well, the town we're bound for is in the middle of a huge fair, so you can look forward to all kinds of food."
"Oh ho. But will your coin purse handle such extravagance?"
A week earlier in the city of Ruvinheigen, Lawrence's greed led him to fall into a desperate trading company's trap, and he had been on the verge of accepting complete ruin.
However, after a series of twists, he avoided that but still had not turned a profit, and indeed had come away with some loss.
As for the armor that was the cause of it all, he had wound up unloading it in Ruvinheigen for rock-bottom prices rather than transporting the heavy goods farther north, where prices were likely to be even worse.
Despite Holo's frequent requests to buy her this or that bauble, her last remark showed some consideration for Lawrence's rather dire straits.
She was frequently abrasive and high-handed, but her heart was fundamentally a good one.
"Don't worry, your food bill's within the budget."
Holo still seemed to be worried about something. "Mm..."
"Besides, I wound up not being able to get you those honeyed peach preserves I promised you. Just think of it as payment for that."
"'Tis true...and yet..."
"What?"
"I'm half-worried about your balance but half-worried about myself. If I eat too extravagantly, we'll have to stay in that much poorer lodgings."
Lawrence smiled in understanding. "Well, I was planning on staying in a decent inn. Surely you're not going to tell me it must have separate bedrooms with a fireplace in each?"
"I would not go so far as that, but it won't do to have you use my appetite as an excuse."
"An excuse for what?"
Lawrence looked ahead to correct the horse's path, at which point Holo leaned over and whispered in his ear, "For only renting a single bed, saying you lack the coin to do more. Sometimes I prefer to sleep alone."

Output:
Having become quite used to this sort of teasing from Holo, he was quick to recover.
He forced calm to his face and gave her a cold look. "I'm not sure someone who snores so readily should be talking."
Perhaps taken aback by the rapidity of Lawrence's recovery, Holo drew away from him, twisting her lip unpleasantly.
Lawrence pressed the attack, so as not to let this rare opportunity for victory escape.
"Besides, you're hardly my type."
Holo's keen ears could easily tell truth from lies.
What Lawrence had just said was—just barely—not a lie.
Holo's face froze, perhaps from surprise at the truth of Lawrence's words.
"Surely you know I'm telling the truth," said Lawrence, closing in on the final blow.
Holo stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Eventually she realized that her response itself was letting Lawrence get the better of her.
Her ears drooped underneath her hood, and she looked down, dejected.
It was Lawrence's first victory in quite some time.
Nonetheless, it was not a true victory.
While it was not precisely a lie to say that Holo wasn't Lawrence's type, neither was it precisely the truth.
All he needed to do was tell her as much, and his revenge for all the times he had suffered as her plaything would be complete.
He reflected on how fond he was of Holo's laughing face or how innocent she looked as she slept.
And, indeed, her dejected mien was quite dear to him, as well.
Or, put another way—
"So you like to see me this way, do you?"
Lawrence met Holo's upturned gaze and was unable to stop himself from blushing.
"Such foolishness. The more idiot the male, the weaker a girl he fancies, never realizing his head is the weakest part of all," mocked Holo, flashing her white fangs as she turned the tables on Lawrence.
"If I'm to be the helpless princess, you'll need to play the intrepid knight. And yet what are you, really?"
She pointed her finger at him and pressed him for an answer.
Countless scenes flashed through Lawrence's mind—scenes that served as a painful reminder that he was no chosen knight, but an ordinary traveling merchant.
Holo gave a short sigh, evidently satisfied by his reaction, but then she put her index finger to her chin as something seemed to occur to her.
"Though come to that, I suppose you are a knight of sorts. Hm."
Lawrence sifted through his memories but could not think of any time when he had been particularly gallant.
"What, have you forgotten? Did you not stand between me and my attackers? 'Twas in the tunnels beneath Pazzio, during that silver coin nonsense."
"...Oh, that."
Lawrence remembered the incident but still didn't feel particularly knightly. He had been shaking so badly he could barely stand, his clothes in tatters.
"It's not physical strength that makes a knight. 'Twas the first time I've been protected by anyone."
Holo smiled sheepishly and drew near to Lawrence. The rapidity of her mood swings was always alarming—fast enough to make a merchant, even one used to the vicissitudes of profit and loss, run away screaming.
Lawrence, however, had nowhere to run.
"And you'll look after me henceforth, yes?" The "wolf" smiled a soft, innocent smile that was distinctly kittenish. No hardworking merchant, used to years of toil and travel, had any right to see such a smile.
But the smile was fake. Holo was still angry at Lawrence's claim that she was not his type—extremely angry, in all likelihood.
Lawrence was well aware of this.
"...Sorry."
Like magic, Holo's smile became genuine when she heard that word. She sat up and giggled indulgently. "That's what I like about you."
In their back-and-forth teasing, Holo and Lawrence were like two frolicking pups.
In the end, they were very comfortable with each other.
"Anyhow, I suppose I don't mind a single bed, but I'll take twice as much dinner to compensate."
"I know, I know," answered Lawrence, wiping the unpleasant sweat from his brow—it wasn't even cold.


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

Input:
Having become quite used to this sort of teasing from Holo, he was quick to recover.
He forced calm to his face and gave her a cold look. "I'm not sure someone who snores so readily should be talking."
Perhaps taken aback by the rapidity of Lawrence's recovery, Holo drew away from him, twisting her lip unpleasantly.
Lawrence pressed the attack, so as not to let this rare opportunity for victory escape.
"Besides, you're hardly my type."
Holo's keen ears could easily tell truth from lies.
What Lawrence had just said was—just barely—not a lie.
Holo's face froze, perhaps from surprise at the truth of Lawrence's words.
"Surely you know I'm telling the truth," said Lawrence, closing in on the final blow.
Holo stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Eventually she realized that her response itself was letting Lawrence get the better of her.
Her ears drooped underneath her hood, and she looked down, dejected.
It was Lawrence's first victory in quite some time.
Nonetheless, it was not a true victory.
While it was not precisely a lie to say that Holo wasn't Lawrence's type, neither was it precisely the truth.
All he needed to do was tell her as much, and his revenge for all the times he had suffered as her plaything would be complete.
He reflected on how fond he was of Holo's laughing face or how innocent she looked as she slept.
And, indeed, her dejected mien was quite dear to him, as well.
Or, put another way—
"So you like to see me this way, do you?"
Lawrence met Holo's upturned gaze and was unable to stop himself from blushing.
"Such foolishness. The more idiot the male, the weaker a girl he fancies, never realizing his head is the weakest part of all," mocked Holo, flashing her white fangs as she turned the tables on Lawrence.
"If I'm to be the helpless princess, you'll need to play the intrepid knight. And yet what are you, really?"
She pointed her finger at him and pressed him for an answer.
Countless scenes flashed through Lawrence's mind—scenes that served as a painful reminder that he was no chosen knight, but an ordinary traveling merchant.
Holo gave a short sigh, evidently satisfied by his reaction, but then she put her index finger to her chin as something seemed to occur to her.
"Though come to that, I suppose you are a knight of sorts. Hm."
Lawrence sifted through his memories but could not think of any time when he had been particularly gallant.
"What, have you forgotten? Did you not stand between me and my attackers? 'Twas in the tunnels beneath Pazzio, during that silver coin nonsense."
"...Oh, that."
Lawrence remembered the incident but still didn't feel particularly knightly. He had been shaking so badly he could barely stand, his clothes in tatters.
"It's not physical strength that makes a knight. 'Twas the first time I've been protected by anyone."
Holo smiled sheepishly and drew near to Lawrence. The rapidity of her mood swings was always alarming—fast enough to make a merchant, even one used to the vicissitudes of profit and loss, run away screaming.
Lawrence, however, had nowhere to run.
"And you'll look after me henceforth, yes?" The "wolf" smiled a soft, innocent smile that was distinctly kittenish. No hardworking merchant, used to years of toil and travel, had any right to see such a smile.
But the smile was fake. Holo was still angry at Lawrence's claim that she was not his type—extremely angry, in all likelihood.
Lawrence was well aware of this.
"...Sorry."
Like magic, Holo's smile became genuine when she heard that word. She sat up and giggled indulgently. "That's what I like about you."
In their back-and-forth teasing, Holo and Lawrence were like two frolicking pups.
In the end, they were very comfortable with each other.
"Anyhow, I suppose I don't mind a single bed, but I'll take twice as much dinner to compensate."
"I know, I know," answered Lawrence, wiping the unpleasant sweat from his brow—it wasn't even cold.

Output:
"The local specialty, you mean? Well, I don't know if it counts as a specialty, really, but..."
"Fish, is it not?"
Lawrence was about to say just that, so Holo's quick answer surprised him.
"Indeed, it is. Yes, west of here there's a lake. Dishes made with fish taken from that lake are what passes for the local specialty. But how did you know?"
Holo could generally discern people's motives, but Lawrence didn't think she could simply read his mind like that.
"Oh, I've just been catching the scent on the wind," she said, pointing to the opposite shore of the river along which they traveled. "That caravan, it's carrying fish."
Lawrence looked and noticed for the first time a caravan of wagons that was so far away it was all he could manage to count them—he certainly couldn't tell what they carried. The caravan would probably meet up with Lawrence and Holo eventually, based on the direction and speed with which the horses were pulling the wagons.
"Though I can't fathom what a fish dish would be. Would it be anything like the eel we had in Ruvinheigen?"
"That was just fried in oil. There are more involved dishes—steamed with meat or vegetables or cooked with spices. Also, this town's got another specialty."
"Oh ho!" Holo's eyes glinted, and beneath the tarp, her tail wagged to and fro in anticipation.
"You can look forward to it once we get there."
Holo puffed her cheeks out a bit in frustration at Lawrence's teasing, but she was far from angry.
"What say you to buying some fish from yonder caravan if they prove to be of good quality?" she asked.
"I don't have an eye for fish. I took a loss on dealing fish once, so I try to avoid them."
"But you've my eyes and nose now."
"Can you sniff out the quality of fish?"
"I've half a mind to sniff out your quality!" said Holo with a mischievous smile. Lawrence had to surrender.
"Mercy, please! I suppose if they have anything worth buying, we can pick some up and have it prepared for us in town. It's a better deal that way, too."
"Quite! You may rely on me."
Though it wasn't exactly clear where Holo and Lawrence would meet up with the caravan that ostensibly carried fish, the distance between the two was steadily closing. Lawrence guided the horse down the road.
And yet—thought Lawrence to himself, looking first to the caravan, then aside at his traveling companion.
If her eyes and nose were good enough to tell the quality of a fish, perhaps she really could take the measure of a person the same way.
Lawrence laughed the notion off, but it still nagged at him.
He casually brought his right shoulder up to his nose and took a whiff. Despite living on the road, he didn't think he smelled too bad—and Holo herself had but a single change of clothes.
He was mulling this excuse over when he felt a gaze upon him.
"Goodness. You really are so charming, I've no idea what to do with myself," said Holo, exasperated.
Lawrence had no response.
The river flowed so slowly that at a glance, it seemed not to be moving at all. Soon, people who had stopped to let their horses drink or shift their loads came into view. There was also a rare traveling sword sharpener—a sword stuck in the ground served in place of a sign. The sword sharpener yawned, chin in hands, leaning on his large whetstone.
There was also a raft moored at a pier, where a knight stood with his horse, arguing with the boatman. The knight was only lightly equipped, so he was probably a messenger from this or that fort. Most likely, the boatman did not want to embark on a trip without more passengers, which was the source of the argument.
Lawrence himself had been angry at boatmen unwilling to set out when he was in a hurry, so the scene brought a pained smile to his face.
As the land shifted from endless wild plains to cultivated farmland, peasants doing their work popped up more and more frequently.
No matter how many times he saw it, a change of scenery that came along with human activity always made Lawrence happy.


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

Input:
"The local specialty, you mean? Well, I don't know if it counts as a specialty, really, but..."
"Fish, is it not?"
Lawrence was about to say just that, so Holo's quick answer surprised him.
"Indeed, it is. Yes, west of here there's a lake. Dishes made with fish taken from that lake are what passes for the local specialty. But how did you know?"
Holo could generally discern people's motives, but Lawrence didn't think she could simply read his mind like that.
"Oh, I've just been catching the scent on the wind," she said, pointing to the opposite shore of the river along which they traveled. "That caravan, it's carrying fish."
Lawrence looked and noticed for the first time a caravan of wagons that was so far away it was all he could manage to count them—he certainly couldn't tell what they carried. The caravan would probably meet up with Lawrence and Holo eventually, based on the direction and speed with which the horses were pulling the wagons.
"Though I can't fathom what a fish dish would be. Would it be anything like the eel we had in Ruvinheigen?"
"That was just fried in oil. There are more involved dishes—steamed with meat or vegetables or cooked with spices. Also, this town's got another specialty."
"Oh ho!" Holo's eyes glinted, and beneath the tarp, her tail wagged to and fro in anticipation.
"You can look forward to it once we get there."
Holo puffed her cheeks out a bit in frustration at Lawrence's teasing, but she was far from angry.
"What say you to buying some fish from yonder caravan if they prove to be of good quality?" she asked.
"I don't have an eye for fish. I took a loss on dealing fish once, so I try to avoid them."
"But you've my eyes and nose now."
"Can you sniff out the quality of fish?"
"I've half a mind to sniff out your quality!" said Holo with a mischievous smile. Lawrence had to surrender.
"Mercy, please! I suppose if they have anything worth buying, we can pick some up and have it prepared for us in town. It's a better deal that way, too."
"Quite! You may rely on me."
Though it wasn't exactly clear where Holo and Lawrence would meet up with the caravan that ostensibly carried fish, the distance between the two was steadily closing. Lawrence guided the horse down the road.
And yet—thought Lawrence to himself, looking first to the caravan, then aside at his traveling companion.
If her eyes and nose were good enough to tell the quality of a fish, perhaps she really could take the measure of a person the same way.
Lawrence laughed the notion off, but it still nagged at him.
He casually brought his right shoulder up to his nose and took a whiff. Despite living on the road, he didn't think he smelled too bad—and Holo herself had but a single change of clothes.
He was mulling this excuse over when he felt a gaze upon him.
"Goodness. You really are so charming, I've no idea what to do with myself," said Holo, exasperated.
Lawrence had no response.
The river flowed so slowly that at a glance, it seemed not to be moving at all. Soon, people who had stopped to let their horses drink or shift their loads came into view. There was also a rare traveling sword sharpener—a sword stuck in the ground served in place of a sign. The sword sharpener yawned, chin in hands, leaning on his large whetstone.
There was also a raft moored at a pier, where a knight stood with his horse, arguing with the boatman. The knight was only lightly equipped, so he was probably a messenger from this or that fort. Most likely, the boatman did not want to embark on a trip without more passengers, which was the source of the argument.
Lawrence himself had been angry at boatmen unwilling to set out when he was in a hurry, so the scene brought a pained smile to his face.
As the land shifted from endless wild plains to cultivated farmland, peasants doing their work popped up more and more frequently.
No matter how many times he saw it, a change of scenery that came along with human activity always made Lawrence happy.

Output:
There were three wagons in all, each drawn by a pair of horses. The wagons lacked drivers' seats, and one well-dressed man sat in the bed of the last cart while a hired laborer guided each cart as he walked.
Lawrence was impressed by the extravagance of using two horses per wagon, but as they got closer to the caravan, he realized it was not just for show.
Piled on the wagon beds were barrels and crates big enough to hold a person. Some had been filled with water—apparently for the captured fish to swim in.
Unsalted fish of any kind was a luxury. Live fish was all the more so.
Although the transport of live fish was rare in and of itself, there was something else about the caravan that surprised Lawrence even more.
The person who evidently transported these three large wagons of fresh fish was a merchant even younger than Lawrence.
"Fish, you say?" said the young man in the last cart, responding to Lawrence's question. He wore the traditional oiled leather coat of a fishmonger.
"Yes, I was wondering if you might sell me a few," said Lawrence, who had traded places with Holo.
The young merchant's reply was quick. "I'm terribly sorry, all of our fish have been spoken for already."
It was an unexpected answer; the young man seemed to realize the surprise he had caused in Lawrence, and he pulled back his hood to show his face properly.
The young man's face was as boyish as his youthful voice. Though he could not strictly be called a "boy," he was certainly not yet twenty. Fishmongers were a generally rough and manly lot, but this young man was unusually slender. His wavy blond hair only added to his aura of refinement.
Even if the man was as young as he looked, the fact that he transported three wagonloads of fresh fish meant he was not a merchant to be underestimated.
"You'll pardon me for asking, but are you a traveling merchant?" asked the lad.
Lawrence couldn't tell whether the young man's smile was genuine or mercantile, but in any case, the only reasonable response was to smile back. "Yes, I've just come from Ruvinheigen."
"I see. Well, there's a lake about a half day's journey up the road we've just come down. I'm sure you can deal with the fishermen there. They're bringing in excellent carp of late."
"Ah, no, I'm not buying for business. I was merely hoping you could sell me a few fish for dinner. That is all."
The young merchant's smile quickly disappeared in favor of surprise—this was probably the first time he had heard such a request.
A merchant hauling salted fish over long distances would be quite used to selling a little on the road, but such a practice was quite out of the ordinary when transporting fresh fish from a nearby lake.
The young merchant's expression of surprise soon shifted to one of careful consideration.
Having met with an unexpected situation, he was probably trying to decide whether there was a new business to be had here.
"You're quite serious about your trade," said Lawrence.
"Oh—," said the lad, returning to himself and obviously flustered. "My apologies! Er, incidentally, if you're looking for fish for dinner, you must be stopping in Kumersun, yes?"
"Indeed. For the winter market and also to take in the festival."
Kumersun was the name of the city they were bound for, just in time for the town's great market, which was held twice a year in the summer and the winter.
There was also a festival that coincided with the winter market.
Lawrence didn't know the specifics, but he had heard it was a pagan celebration that would make any devout follower of the Church faint dead away.
Six days' travel north from Ruvinheigen, a city which even now functioned as a resupply depot for Church-funded incursions against pagans, relations between Church followers and pagans were not as simple as they were in the south.