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

Input:
If so, her tragic worries were not hard to understand.
It seemed the adoptive father she'd loved and respected so had not spoken to her about a great many things.
Perhaps he had thought they were not relevant to Elsa, that such matters didn't concern her—or perhaps he'd meant her to ponder them on her own. There was no way to know.
But to Elsa, who had no one with whom she could discuss her worries, they were a heavy burden indeed.
No matter how heavy the load, it could be carried as long as it was placed firmly on one's back. However, all it took was a small disturbance for the whole load to come falling apart.
As soon as Elsa began to speak, her words became rapid, as though she could not hold them back if she wanted to.
"Is it because my faith is lacking? I know not. I have not the courage to rebuke the two of you, scriptures and holy water in hand. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing—no, what it is at all, I do not—"
"My companion—," Lawrence interjected before Elsa could corner herself with her own words. "My companion, though her true form is a giant wolf, does not wish to be called a god nor worshipped as one."
Elsa listened quietly, desperately, a lost soul hoping for salvation.
"I am, as you see, nothing more than a merchant of no special birth. I know little of the teachings of God. I cannot tell you what is right and what is wrong," said Lawrence, very much aware that Holo was probably eavesdropping on the conversation. "But I do not believe that Father Franz was mistaken."
"Why...why do you believe that?"
Lawrence nodded thoughtfully, taking a moment to prepare his opinions.
It was possible that he was totally off the mark. Indeed, that possibility might have been the larger one.
But he felt a strange certainty that he understood Father Franz's point of view.
Just as he was about to speak again, Lawrence was interrupted by the sound of a knock at the church's door.
"...That will be Elder Sem. I imagine he is here to ask about you and your companion." She seemed to be able to tell who was at the door by the sound of the knocking; perhaps this came from a need to tell whether the noise was someone from Enberch.
Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, she stood, then glanced toward the interior of the church. "If you find yourself unable to trust me, you can get out there through an exit near the stove by the hallway. If you trust me—"
"I trust you. I don't know whether I can trust Sem."
Elsa neither shook her head nor nodded. "Then please stay in the back of the church," she said. "I will explain that I've been asking you about the news from the churches of other lands. It is not really a lie..."
"I understand. I'll be happy to share my experiences," answered Lawrence with a smile. He was about to do as he was told and hide away in the back of the church when he noticed that Elsa had returned to her usual stoic self.
He asked himself in that moment if she would betray him. The answer came, No, she would not.
Though Lawrence did not trust in God, he did trust in those who did.
He decided he did not mind such ironies.
Lawrence walked down the dimly lit hallway. Eventually he saw the vague flicker of candlelight from around a corner.
There was no way Holo had not overheard his exchange with Elsa, so he prepared himself for whatever expression might await him as he rounded the corner.
There was Holo sitting cross-legged with an open book in her lap. She lifted her face to him, displeasure written all over it.
"Am I so very malicious, then?"
"...You're inventing cause for offense," said Lawrence, shrugging.
Holo snorted. "Your trepidation was plain as day; I could hear it in your footsteps."
"Merchants only read minds, not feet."
"...That was awful," Holo pronounced of Lawrence's joke. "Still, you were quite considerate to the girl."
Lawrence both expected and did not expect this subject to come up.

Output:
When someone asked advice, it was important to maintain confidence and trust.
But Holo's displeasure at the change of subject was written large on her face, and she simply looked down at the book she was reading.
Lawrence wondered to himself just who it had been, back in Ruvinheigen, that said if you have something to say, you should just come out and say it.
He wanted very much to point that out to Holo, but he could scarcely imagine the fit she would pitch if he was to do so.
However, Holo was not a completely unreasonable girl.
Before she had completely cornered herself, she relented. "She's acting more or less as she said she would. That Sem fellow, or whatever his name was, seems to have just been checking in on her...He's just now leaving."
"If the elder would understand our situation, this would be a lot simpler."
"Can you not persuade him yourself?"
For a moment, Lawrence thought Holo was mocking him; perceiving this, she glared at him.
"You overestimate me."
"You don't wish me to trust you, then?" asked Holo with a serious face.
Lawrence chuckled ruefully. "As ever, time is the problem. If we dally too long here, it may snow."
"And what would be wrong with that?"
She seemed to be asking in earnest, so his reply was likewise serious. "If we were to be snowed in somewhere, would a large village or a small town be better?"
"Ah, I see. Still, we've a true mountain of books to get through. There's no telling how long it will take us."
"True, but we need only find stories that are relevant to you. If we read quickly, the two of us together should be able to make short work of it."
"Mm." Holo nodded, smiling as if somehow pleased.
"What is it?"
As soon as he asked, her smile disappeared.
"This is hardly the time to be asking me that," she said with a resigned sigh. "I don't know whether you are truly that slow or...ah, 'tis well."
Seeing Holo waving him off, Lawrence thought back over what he had said.
Could it be? he wondered.
Had she been pleased to hear "the two of us together"?
"'Tis too late for you to say it now. I would only become angry."
Lawrence took this as fair warning and closed his mouth.
Holo flipped through a few pages, sighing.
Slowly she let her body lean against his. "Did I not once say I was tired of being alone?" she reminded him reproachfully.
The thought nagged at Lawrence. "Sorry."
"Mm." Holo sniffed, then reached around and began to massage her left shoulder.
Seeing this, Lawrence had to smile.
She looked at him with a face that said, "Are you not going to help?"
Lawrence obediently brought his hand around to attend to her shoulders.
Holo sighed, satisfied, her tail brushing softly against the floor.
Even half a year ago, it would have seemed impossible to Lawrence that he would be quietly passing time with someone this way.
She was tired of being alone.
Lawrence felt precisely the same way.
Immediately after the thought passed through his mind, Lawrence heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on stone. He hastily tried to pull his hand away from Holo's shoulder when her hand grabbed his with uncanny strength.
"The elder has gone, but about what you were...," said Elsa as she was coming around the corner. Lawrence had managed to withdraw his hand and put on his most neutral merchant's face, but Holo continued to lean against him all the same.
Her body trembled slightly, as though she were suppressing laughter. At first glance, it probably looked as though she was sleeping, her face pressed against his shoulder.
Elsa took this in silently, then nodded as if having come to some kind of conclusion. "Well, then, I will return later."
Though her voice was as hard as ever, her consideration was evident from the way she lowered it.
Once the sound of her footsteps faded into silence as she walked away, Holo sat up and laughed.
"Look, you—," said Lawrence, but his accusatory tone went unheeded.


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

Input:
When someone asked advice, it was important to maintain confidence and trust.
But Holo's displeasure at the change of subject was written large on her face, and she simply looked down at the book she was reading.
Lawrence wondered to himself just who it had been, back in Ruvinheigen, that said if you have something to say, you should just come out and say it.
He wanted very much to point that out to Holo, but he could scarcely imagine the fit she would pitch if he was to do so.
However, Holo was not a completely unreasonable girl.
Before she had completely cornered herself, she relented. "She's acting more or less as she said she would. That Sem fellow, or whatever his name was, seems to have just been checking in on her...He's just now leaving."
"If the elder would understand our situation, this would be a lot simpler."
"Can you not persuade him yourself?"
For a moment, Lawrence thought Holo was mocking him; perceiving this, she glared at him.
"You overestimate me."
"You don't wish me to trust you, then?" asked Holo with a serious face.
Lawrence chuckled ruefully. "As ever, time is the problem. If we dally too long here, it may snow."
"And what would be wrong with that?"
She seemed to be asking in earnest, so his reply was likewise serious. "If we were to be snowed in somewhere, would a large village or a small town be better?"
"Ah, I see. Still, we've a true mountain of books to get through. There's no telling how long it will take us."
"True, but we need only find stories that are relevant to you. If we read quickly, the two of us together should be able to make short work of it."
"Mm." Holo nodded, smiling as if somehow pleased.
"What is it?"
As soon as he asked, her smile disappeared.
"This is hardly the time to be asking me that," she said with a resigned sigh. "I don't know whether you are truly that slow or...ah, 'tis well."
Seeing Holo waving him off, Lawrence thought back over what he had said.
Could it be? he wondered.
Had she been pleased to hear "the two of us together"?
"'Tis too late for you to say it now. I would only become angry."
Lawrence took this as fair warning and closed his mouth.
Holo flipped through a few pages, sighing.
Slowly she let her body lean against his. "Did I not once say I was tired of being alone?" she reminded him reproachfully.
The thought nagged at Lawrence. "Sorry."
"Mm." Holo sniffed, then reached around and began to massage her left shoulder.
Seeing this, Lawrence had to smile.
She looked at him with a face that said, "Are you not going to help?"
Lawrence obediently brought his hand around to attend to her shoulders.
Holo sighed, satisfied, her tail brushing softly against the floor.
Even half a year ago, it would have seemed impossible to Lawrence that he would be quietly passing time with someone this way.
She was tired of being alone.
Lawrence felt precisely the same way.
Immediately after the thought passed through his mind, Lawrence heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on stone. He hastily tried to pull his hand away from Holo's shoulder when her hand grabbed his with uncanny strength.
"The elder has gone, but about what you were...," said Elsa as she was coming around the corner. Lawrence had managed to withdraw his hand and put on his most neutral merchant's face, but Holo continued to lean against him all the same.
Her body trembled slightly, as though she were suppressing laughter. At first glance, it probably looked as though she was sleeping, her face pressed against his shoulder.
Elsa took this in silently, then nodded as if having come to some kind of conclusion. "Well, then, I will return later."
Though her voice was as hard as ever, her consideration was evident from the way she lowered it.
Once the sound of her footsteps faded into silence as she walked away, Holo sat up and laughed.
"Look, you—," said Lawrence, but his accusatory tone went unheeded.

Output:
Lawrence knew that no matter how he answered, he would be falling into a trap.
He had lost the moment he'd so happily agreed to massage her shoulders.
"Though I will admit," started Holo, her nasty smile disappearing as she contentedly lay her head against Lawrence again, "that I did wish to show off a bit."
Lawrence suppressed the urge to pull away from her.
"I would hate for you to be taken away from me," she said.
As a man, he could not help but feel pleased hearing this.
But he could hardly forget that it was Holo, the self-styled wisewolf, who said it.
He sighed. "You mean you would hate for your favorite toy to be taken from you."
Holo grinned at him. "If that's what you think, will you then play with me?"
Lawrence could only sigh.
The candle on the stand had lost its shape, and the pile of books they'd read had grown tall enough to lean upon when the church had another visitor.
Holo lifted her head, her ears erect.
"Who's that?" Lawrence asked.
Holo giggled happily, not offering a serious reply—which meant it was probably Evan.
Lawrence didn't have to guess why Holo was laughing.
"It's gotten late, though...It's dark now."
He stood up straight and stretched, his spine popping gratifyingly.
He had gotten sucked into reading. The tales were interesting in their own right, even without the motivation of reading for Holo's sake.
"I'm hungry also."
"Quite. Shall we take a rest?" Lawrence let his stiff body relax as he reached for the candle. "Let's not let Evan see your true nature. The fewer people who know the secret, the better."
"Mm. Though that girl will likely tell him all the same."
"I don't know...I don't think so."
Elsa didn't strike Lawrence as the kind of girl who would easily let a secret slip. Despite Evan's statement that she told him how many sneezes she had in a day, she hadn't mentioned Lawrence and Holo's first visit to the church to him.
"Oh no?" came Holo's skeptical reply. "That girl seems troubled over something. Depending on what she decides, who can say what she will do?"
"Ah, her questions about God. I suppose that is true now that you mention it."
At the time, Lawrence hadn't found a chance to give Elsa his answer, winding up instead lost in a book.
But as he thought on it, he wondered if that wasn't for the best.
"Incidentally, what were you planning to tell her?" Holo asked.
"Well, I might have been completely mistaken anyway."
"I would hardly expect a perfect answer from you."
It was a nasty thing to say, but hearing it put so bluntly made it easier for Lawrence to answer. "The way I see it, Father Franz collected tales of the pagan gods to prove the existence of his own god."
"Oh, ho."
"Praying every day, day after day, yet never seeing so much as a hint of one's god—anyone would begin to doubt, don't you think?"
Holo—who had been thus doubted—nodded, annoyed by the memory of it.
"But if he then started to look around, he would have seen that there were many, many other gods that people worship. Does that god exist? What about this other one? It's only natural that he would've started to wonder. If he could prove the existence of the gods worshipped by others, then that would mean his own God existed, too."
Of course, this manner of thought was a complete anathema to the Church.
Shortly after Lawrence met Holo for the first time, the two had taken shelter from the rain in a church. Holo had some knowledge of Church beliefs and had been able to chat easily with the believers there—so this had to have occurred to her as well.
"Aye, but the God of the Church is a supreme being, is he not? There are no other gods before him, and he created the world—people merely borrow it—is that not what they hold?"
"It is. Which is why I believe this is truly an abbey, not a church."
Holo's increasingly annoyed expression was no doubt because she did not follow Lawrence's logic.
"Do you know the difference between an abbey and a church?"


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

Input:
Lawrence knew that no matter how he answered, he would be falling into a trap.
He had lost the moment he'd so happily agreed to massage her shoulders.
"Though I will admit," started Holo, her nasty smile disappearing as she contentedly lay her head against Lawrence again, "that I did wish to show off a bit."
Lawrence suppressed the urge to pull away from her.
"I would hate for you to be taken away from me," she said.
As a man, he could not help but feel pleased hearing this.
But he could hardly forget that it was Holo, the self-styled wisewolf, who said it.
He sighed. "You mean you would hate for your favorite toy to be taken from you."
Holo grinned at him. "If that's what you think, will you then play with me?"
Lawrence could only sigh.
The candle on the stand had lost its shape, and the pile of books they'd read had grown tall enough to lean upon when the church had another visitor.
Holo lifted her head, her ears erect.
"Who's that?" Lawrence asked.
Holo giggled happily, not offering a serious reply—which meant it was probably Evan.
Lawrence didn't have to guess why Holo was laughing.
"It's gotten late, though...It's dark now."
He stood up straight and stretched, his spine popping gratifyingly.
He had gotten sucked into reading. The tales were interesting in their own right, even without the motivation of reading for Holo's sake.
"I'm hungry also."
"Quite. Shall we take a rest?" Lawrence let his stiff body relax as he reached for the candle. "Let's not let Evan see your true nature. The fewer people who know the secret, the better."
"Mm. Though that girl will likely tell him all the same."
"I don't know...I don't think so."
Elsa didn't strike Lawrence as the kind of girl who would easily let a secret slip. Despite Evan's statement that she told him how many sneezes she had in a day, she hadn't mentioned Lawrence and Holo's first visit to the church to him.
"Oh no?" came Holo's skeptical reply. "That girl seems troubled over something. Depending on what she decides, who can say what she will do?"
"Ah, her questions about God. I suppose that is true now that you mention it."
At the time, Lawrence hadn't found a chance to give Elsa his answer, winding up instead lost in a book.
But as he thought on it, he wondered if that wasn't for the best.
"Incidentally, what were you planning to tell her?" Holo asked.
"Well, I might have been completely mistaken anyway."
"I would hardly expect a perfect answer from you."
It was a nasty thing to say, but hearing it put so bluntly made it easier for Lawrence to answer. "The way I see it, Father Franz collected tales of the pagan gods to prove the existence of his own god."
"Oh, ho."
"Praying every day, day after day, yet never seeing so much as a hint of one's god—anyone would begin to doubt, don't you think?"
Holo—who had been thus doubted—nodded, annoyed by the memory of it.
"But if he then started to look around, he would have seen that there were many, many other gods that people worship. Does that god exist? What about this other one? It's only natural that he would've started to wonder. If he could prove the existence of the gods worshipped by others, then that would mean his own God existed, too."
Of course, this manner of thought was a complete anathema to the Church.
Shortly after Lawrence met Holo for the first time, the two had taken shelter from the rain in a church. Holo had some knowledge of Church beliefs and had been able to chat easily with the believers there—so this had to have occurred to her as well.
"Aye, but the God of the Church is a supreme being, is he not? There are no other gods before him, and he created the world—people merely borrow it—is that not what they hold?"
"It is. Which is why I believe this is truly an abbey, not a church."
Holo's increasingly annoyed expression was no doubt because she did not follow Lawrence's logic.
"Do you know the difference between an abbey and a church?"

Output:
"An abbey is a place for prayer. A church is a place for teaching about God. Their aims are entirely separate. Abbeys are built in remote regions with no thought given to guiding people down the correct path. The reason monks may spend their whole lives within one is that there is simply no reason to leave."
"Hm."
"So what do you think would be the first thing a monk would do if he began to doubt the existence of God?"
Holo's gaze drifted.
The fish within her mind were surely swimming farther through the sea of knowledge and wisdom.
"Indeed—he would seek to ascertain the existence of the God he worshipped, which means our treatment depends even more upon what that girl decides to do," said Holo.
"I'm glad I didn't tell her any of this during the day. Elsa's not a nun—she's a member of the clergy."
Holo nodded briefly, glancing at the pile of books.
They hadn't yet looked at even half of the volumes in the cellar.
Though they did not necessarily have to look at every book, they still had not found the stories that Holo sought.
Had there been an index where they could have looked for gods of a certain region, that would have sped things up considerably, but as it was, they had no choice but to search page by page through the chronicles.
"Well, in any case, all we can do is search the books as quickly as we can. There is still the problem with Enberch, after all."
"Mm. True, but"—Holo's gaze turned to the hallway that led to the room where Elsa and Evan were—"first let us eat."
A moment later, they could hear Evan's footsteps as he came to invite them to dinner.
"We thank God for blessing us with bread this day."
After saying the traditional prayer, the four enjoyed a fairly luxurious meal—owing, Elsa explained, to Lawrence's overgenerous donation.
However, luxurious in a church meant bread enough for everyone, a few side dishes, and a bit of wine.
On the table was rye bread along with some fish Evan had caught in the river and some boiled eggs. Based on Lawrence's experience, for a church with coffers that were hardly deep and rules that were not unstrict, it was quite a feast.
No doubt Holo was unsatisfied by the lack of red meat, but fortunately there were other side dishes for her.
"Come, don't be so messy. Take a piece of bread, then eat it," corrected Elsa, eliciting a shrug from Evan every time she did so. Just a moment ago Elsa had been unable to watch Evan fumbling to shell a boiled egg and had helped him with it.
Holo had watched this with a certain amount of regret, perhaps because she had already eaten her own egg. Lawrence noted this and realized it had been a close call.
"Fine, fine!" said Evan. "Anyway, Mr. Lawrence, as you were saying..." Evan's complaining was less that he was genuinely annoyed and more that he did not want to look bad in front of Lawrence and Holo.
Though Holo was good at hiding it as she ate, she was clearly smiling.
Only Elsa seemed to be seriously concerned with Evan's sloppiness; she sighed.
"Er, let's see, where was I?" said Lawrence.
"The ship had left harbor and gotten past the cape where rocks lurked beneath the waves."
"Oh yes, of course. That particular harbor was dangerous until you reached the open sea. Every merchant aboard was huddled up belowdeck, praying for their lives."
Lawrence was telling of a time he had transported cargo by ship. Evan knew little of the ocean and was keenly interested.
"Once we learned we had safely passed the cape, we all came abovedeck to discover there were ships all around us."
"Even though it was the sea?"
"Well, it's only natural for there to be ships in the sea," said Lawrence, chuckling in spite of himself.
Elsa sighed a long-suffering sigh.
Evan was the only one among them never to have seen the ocean, so his position was a bit unsteady.
But Lawrence understood what Evan had meant to say, and so he continued. "It was an amazing sight. The sea was dense with vessels, all hauling in great mountains of fish."


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

Input:
"An abbey is a place for prayer. A church is a place for teaching about God. Their aims are entirely separate. Abbeys are built in remote regions with no thought given to guiding people down the correct path. The reason monks may spend their whole lives within one is that there is simply no reason to leave."
"Hm."
"So what do you think would be the first thing a monk would do if he began to doubt the existence of God?"
Holo's gaze drifted.
The fish within her mind were surely swimming farther through the sea of knowledge and wisdom.
"Indeed—he would seek to ascertain the existence of the God he worshipped, which means our treatment depends even more upon what that girl decides to do," said Holo.
"I'm glad I didn't tell her any of this during the day. Elsa's not a nun—she's a member of the clergy."
Holo nodded briefly, glancing at the pile of books.
They hadn't yet looked at even half of the volumes in the cellar.
Though they did not necessarily have to look at every book, they still had not found the stories that Holo sought.
Had there been an index where they could have looked for gods of a certain region, that would have sped things up considerably, but as it was, they had no choice but to search page by page through the chronicles.
"Well, in any case, all we can do is search the books as quickly as we can. There is still the problem with Enberch, after all."
"Mm. True, but"—Holo's gaze turned to the hallway that led to the room where Elsa and Evan were—"first let us eat."
A moment later, they could hear Evan's footsteps as he came to invite them to dinner.
"We thank God for blessing us with bread this day."
After saying the traditional prayer, the four enjoyed a fairly luxurious meal—owing, Elsa explained, to Lawrence's overgenerous donation.
However, luxurious in a church meant bread enough for everyone, a few side dishes, and a bit of wine.
On the table was rye bread along with some fish Evan had caught in the river and some boiled eggs. Based on Lawrence's experience, for a church with coffers that were hardly deep and rules that were not unstrict, it was quite a feast.
No doubt Holo was unsatisfied by the lack of red meat, but fortunately there were other side dishes for her.
"Come, don't be so messy. Take a piece of bread, then eat it," corrected Elsa, eliciting a shrug from Evan every time she did so. Just a moment ago Elsa had been unable to watch Evan fumbling to shell a boiled egg and had helped him with it.
Holo had watched this with a certain amount of regret, perhaps because she had already eaten her own egg. Lawrence noted this and realized it had been a close call.
"Fine, fine!" said Evan. "Anyway, Mr. Lawrence, as you were saying..." Evan's complaining was less that he was genuinely annoyed and more that he did not want to look bad in front of Lawrence and Holo.
Though Holo was good at hiding it as she ate, she was clearly smiling.
Only Elsa seemed to be seriously concerned with Evan's sloppiness; she sighed.
"Er, let's see, where was I?" said Lawrence.
"The ship had left harbor and gotten past the cape where rocks lurked beneath the waves."
"Oh yes, of course. That particular harbor was dangerous until you reached the open sea. Every merchant aboard was huddled up belowdeck, praying for their lives."
Lawrence was telling of a time he had transported cargo by ship. Evan knew little of the ocean and was keenly interested.
"Once we learned we had safely passed the cape, we all came abovedeck to discover there were ships all around us."
"Even though it was the sea?"
"Well, it's only natural for there to be ships in the sea," said Lawrence, chuckling in spite of himself.
Elsa sighed a long-suffering sigh.
Evan was the only one among them never to have seen the ocean, so his position was a bit unsteady.
But Lawrence understood what Evan had meant to say, and so he continued. "It was an amazing sight. The sea was dense with vessels, all hauling in great mountains of fish."

Output:
Holo shot Lawrence a glance of extreme skepticism, as though to say, "Even if he's lying, nobody could be that ignorant."
"Anyone who's seen the sea there during that season will tell you about the black rivers of fish that run through the water."
The herring schools were a magnificent sight. It was said that a sharpened stick thrust at random into the water would come back with three fish upon it.
It was unfortunate that short of having Evan see the sight with his own eyes, there was no way Lawrence could convey to him the truth or scale of the sea.
"Wow...I can't really imagine it, but I guess the outside world is a big place."
"But the most surprising thing on the ship was the food," continued Lawrence.
"Oh?" Holo was now the most interested party.
"Yes, since there were merchants from so many different regions. There was a man from a place called Ebgod, which is near a salt lake. His bread was incredibly salty."
Everyone looked at the bread in the middle of the table.
"I can understand making bread sweet, but his bread tasted as though it had salt sprinkled over it. It did not quite agree with my palate."
"Salt, eh? He must have been a rich man to put salt upon bread!" said Evan, impressed.
Tereo was landlocked, and if there was no nearby source of rock salt, then it would have been a luxury item.
"Yes, but Ebgod has a salt lake. Imagine a salt river running through town and every field as far as the eye can see turned to salt. There's so much salt everywhere that the people there enjoy salty bread."
"Still, salty bread!" said Evan, disgust on his face.
"There were other strange things on the ship, too—like flat bread baked in the bottom of a bowl."
A loaf's value was in its rise—or at least, anyone used to baking bread in an oven would think so.
"Ha, surely not."
Lawrence was pleased to hear the answer he had expected. "Ah, but if you make bread from oats, then it will turn out flat and even, will it not?"
"Well, I suppose...," said Evan.
"Would you not eat unleavened bread, then?"
Lawrence was referring to bread that had not been blessed by the bread spirits but had rather been baked immediately after kneading.
It was unlikely that Evan had never eaten it—but he probably hadn't enjoyed it much.
"While one could hardly call oat bread delicious even as flattery, the bowl bread was quite tasty, particularly topped with beans or the like."
"Amazing," said Evan, impressed, his eyes staring distantly at some far-off imagined place.
By contrast, Elsa had torn off a piece of rye bread and seemed to be comparing it to the flat bread in her imagination.
The two were highly amusing.
"Anyway, the world is a vast place with much to see," said Lawrence, wrapping things up. Next to him, Holo had finished eating and seemed to be getting restless. "My deepest thanks to you for preparing such a feast for us," he added.
"Not at all. It is thanks to your generous donation. This is the least I could do," said Elsa.
If only she would spare us the slightest smile when she said so, Lawrence thought ruefully.
Nonetheless, it did seem she hadn't felt forced to make the dinner, which gave him some measure of relief.
"So, about later..."
"If you wish to read the books at night as well, I do not mind. I know your aim is the northlands, and if it starts to snow, it will make your situation difficult."
Conversation moved quickly with Elsa. Lawrence was grateful.
"Well, then, Mr. Lawrence—you'll have to tell me more stories later!" said Evan.
"He already said he was in a hurry. And today you have to practice writing," said Elsa.
Evan ducked his head, looking to Lawrence with a pained expression that begged for help.
That brief instant made Elsa and Evan's relationship crystal clear.
"When the opportunity arises, I shall. And we'll impose upon your church's hospitality a bit longer then, thank you."
"Yes, feel free."
Lawrence and Holo stood, giving their thanks for dinner one last time before leaving the living room.


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

Input:
Holo shot Lawrence a glance of extreme skepticism, as though to say, "Even if he's lying, nobody could be that ignorant."
"Anyone who's seen the sea there during that season will tell you about the black rivers of fish that run through the water."
The herring schools were a magnificent sight. It was said that a sharpened stick thrust at random into the water would come back with three fish upon it.
It was unfortunate that short of having Evan see the sight with his own eyes, there was no way Lawrence could convey to him the truth or scale of the sea.
"Wow...I can't really imagine it, but I guess the outside world is a big place."
"But the most surprising thing on the ship was the food," continued Lawrence.
"Oh?" Holo was now the most interested party.
"Yes, since there were merchants from so many different regions. There was a man from a place called Ebgod, which is near a salt lake. His bread was incredibly salty."
Everyone looked at the bread in the middle of the table.
"I can understand making bread sweet, but his bread tasted as though it had salt sprinkled over it. It did not quite agree with my palate."
"Salt, eh? He must have been a rich man to put salt upon bread!" said Evan, impressed.
Tereo was landlocked, and if there was no nearby source of rock salt, then it would have been a luxury item.
"Yes, but Ebgod has a salt lake. Imagine a salt river running through town and every field as far as the eye can see turned to salt. There's so much salt everywhere that the people there enjoy salty bread."
"Still, salty bread!" said Evan, disgust on his face.
"There were other strange things on the ship, too—like flat bread baked in the bottom of a bowl."
A loaf's value was in its rise—or at least, anyone used to baking bread in an oven would think so.
"Ha, surely not."
Lawrence was pleased to hear the answer he had expected. "Ah, but if you make bread from oats, then it will turn out flat and even, will it not?"
"Well, I suppose...," said Evan.
"Would you not eat unleavened bread, then?"
Lawrence was referring to bread that had not been blessed by the bread spirits but had rather been baked immediately after kneading.
It was unlikely that Evan had never eaten it—but he probably hadn't enjoyed it much.
"While one could hardly call oat bread delicious even as flattery, the bowl bread was quite tasty, particularly topped with beans or the like."
"Amazing," said Evan, impressed, his eyes staring distantly at some far-off imagined place.
By contrast, Elsa had torn off a piece of rye bread and seemed to be comparing it to the flat bread in her imagination.
The two were highly amusing.
"Anyway, the world is a vast place with much to see," said Lawrence, wrapping things up. Next to him, Holo had finished eating and seemed to be getting restless. "My deepest thanks to you for preparing such a feast for us," he added.
"Not at all. It is thanks to your generous donation. This is the least I could do," said Elsa.
If only she would spare us the slightest smile when she said so, Lawrence thought ruefully.
Nonetheless, it did seem she hadn't felt forced to make the dinner, which gave him some measure of relief.
"So, about later..."
"If you wish to read the books at night as well, I do not mind. I know your aim is the northlands, and if it starts to snow, it will make your situation difficult."
Conversation moved quickly with Elsa. Lawrence was grateful.
"Well, then, Mr. Lawrence—you'll have to tell me more stories later!" said Evan.
"He already said he was in a hurry. And today you have to practice writing," said Elsa.
Evan ducked his head, looking to Lawrence with a pained expression that begged for help.
That brief instant made Elsa and Evan's relationship crystal clear.
"When the opportunity arises, I shall. And we'll impose upon your church's hospitality a bit longer then, thank you."
"Yes, feel free."
Lawrence and Holo stood, giving their thanks for dinner one last time before leaving the living room.

Output:
"Oh, that's right." Lawrence turned just as they were walking out the door and looked to Elsa. "About the question you asked me earlier."
"I will consider it on my own," she said. "'Think before asking,' Father Franz used to say."
Elsa was not the timid, scared girl she had been earlier in the day, but instead showed the stoutness of heart she would need to support the church on her own.
"I understand. If you want to hear the thoughts of another, please do come and ask."
"I shall, thank you."
Evan, unable to follow the conversation, looked back and forth between Lawrence and Elsa until a call from the latter put his attention to other matters.
Despite his complaints, Evan seemed to be enjoying his exchange with Elsa as they started clearing the dining table.
Though Evan seemed by turns put-upon or annoyed by Elsa's constant corrections, he would sometimes take her hand or say her name, and the two would share a quiet smile.
It was the sort of interaction Lawrence had deliberately avoided paying attention to as a merchant.
No, he had even mocked them.
He held the sconce with its lit candle and gazed at Holo's form in front of him there in the hallway, illuminated by the candle's flickering light.
Eventually Holo turned the corner, and she was out of his sight.
Lawrence thought back.
He had plied the dark roads, stingy even with his candles, picking up gold coins as he traveled.
Even though he'd become desperate enough for company to begin to wish he could talk to his horse, he still had never taken his eyes from the path of those gold coins. This behavior seemed truly strange in retrospect.
He continued his slow walk down the hallway, relying on the small candle to light his way.
As he turned the corner, he saw Holo there, already reading a book.
Suddenly she spoke. "And what happened to you?"
"Hm?"
"That expression of yours—did a hole suddenly open in your coin purse?" she asked with a laugh.
Lawrence put his hand to his cheek in spite of himself. Outside of business negotiations, he was quite oblivious to the expressions his face made.
"Was I making a face?"
"Mm."
"Oh. Wait...oh."
Holo's shoulders shook with mirth. "Perhaps the wine has gotten to you?"
Lawrence reflected on this; his head did feel a bit muzzy, come to think of it.
No—he knew exactly what it was that had made him fall into such a strange mood.
He was simply unsure where that left him.
"Those two certainly get along well," he said, meaning nothing in particular by this.
He had truly not put any thought into the muttered statement.
But the moment he said it, Holo made an expression that he would long remember.
Her eyes were wide and round.
"Wh-what's wrong?" asked Lawrence—now he was the surprised one.
But Holo merely stared, evidently too stunned to voice anything more than an inarticulate groan. Eventually she returned to herself, but merely stared off into space, an expression of deep distress on her face.
"...Did I really say something that strange?" Lawrence asked.
Holo did not reply, her fingers restlessly flipping corners of the book's pages.
Her expression was troubled, but whether she was stunned or angry or at a loss, it was hard to tell. Just looking at her, Lawrence himself was becoming upset.
"Er—well, now—look, you—," she started.
At length, she glanced over at him. Something in her eyes looked as though she had given up on something.
She seemed so deeply distressed that Lawrence dared not ask what was wrong again. If he did, she might be likely to collapse on the spot.
What was worse, when she continued to speak, he didn't understand what she was saying.
"I, er...for the most part, I...I know well my own good points and the bad as well."
"Ah, oh."
"But...er...perhaps it is strange to say so myself, but...having lived so many years, I can laugh off most things. Of course, sometimes I cannot. You should know this quite well yourself...yes?"


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

Input:
"Oh, that's right." Lawrence turned just as they were walking out the door and looked to Elsa. "About the question you asked me earlier."
"I will consider it on my own," she said. "'Think before asking,' Father Franz used to say."
Elsa was not the timid, scared girl she had been earlier in the day, but instead showed the stoutness of heart she would need to support the church on her own.
"I understand. If you want to hear the thoughts of another, please do come and ask."
"I shall, thank you."
Evan, unable to follow the conversation, looked back and forth between Lawrence and Elsa until a call from the latter put his attention to other matters.
Despite his complaints, Evan seemed to be enjoying his exchange with Elsa as they started clearing the dining table.
Though Evan seemed by turns put-upon or annoyed by Elsa's constant corrections, he would sometimes take her hand or say her name, and the two would share a quiet smile.
It was the sort of interaction Lawrence had deliberately avoided paying attention to as a merchant.
No, he had even mocked them.
He held the sconce with its lit candle and gazed at Holo's form in front of him there in the hallway, illuminated by the candle's flickering light.
Eventually Holo turned the corner, and she was out of his sight.
Lawrence thought back.
He had plied the dark roads, stingy even with his candles, picking up gold coins as he traveled.
Even though he'd become desperate enough for company to begin to wish he could talk to his horse, he still had never taken his eyes from the path of those gold coins. This behavior seemed truly strange in retrospect.
He continued his slow walk down the hallway, relying on the small candle to light his way.
As he turned the corner, he saw Holo there, already reading a book.
Suddenly she spoke. "And what happened to you?"
"Hm?"
"That expression of yours—did a hole suddenly open in your coin purse?" she asked with a laugh.
Lawrence put his hand to his cheek in spite of himself. Outside of business negotiations, he was quite oblivious to the expressions his face made.
"Was I making a face?"
"Mm."
"Oh. Wait...oh."
Holo's shoulders shook with mirth. "Perhaps the wine has gotten to you?"
Lawrence reflected on this; his head did feel a bit muzzy, come to think of it.
No—he knew exactly what it was that had made him fall into such a strange mood.
He was simply unsure where that left him.
"Those two certainly get along well," he said, meaning nothing in particular by this.
He had truly not put any thought into the muttered statement.
But the moment he said it, Holo made an expression that he would long remember.
Her eyes were wide and round.
"Wh-what's wrong?" asked Lawrence—now he was the surprised one.
But Holo merely stared, evidently too stunned to voice anything more than an inarticulate groan. Eventually she returned to herself, but merely stared off into space, an expression of deep distress on her face.
"...Did I really say something that strange?" Lawrence asked.
Holo did not reply, her fingers restlessly flipping corners of the book's pages.
Her expression was troubled, but whether she was stunned or angry or at a loss, it was hard to tell. Just looking at her, Lawrence himself was becoming upset.
"Er—well, now—look, you—," she started.
At length, she glanced over at him. Something in her eyes looked as though she had given up on something.
She seemed so deeply distressed that Lawrence dared not ask what was wrong again. If he did, she might be likely to collapse on the spot.
What was worse, when she continued to speak, he didn't understand what she was saying.
"I, er...for the most part, I...I know well my own good points and the bad as well."
"Ah, oh."
"But...er...perhaps it is strange to say so myself, but...having lived so many years, I can laugh off most things. Of course, sometimes I cannot. You should know this quite well yourself...yes?"

Output:
Holo put down the book she held, sitting cross-legged and grasping her ankles, her head low. She seemed in truly dire straits, avoiding looking at Lawrence as though it would blind her to do so.
Seeing her on the verge of tears, Lawrence could not help but feel deep concern. Then she spoke.
"Come now, you—"
Lawrence nodded.
"I...I wish that you would not sound so envious when you speak of them," she said.
Lawrence stood there, stunned, as if he'd been walking a crowded street only to sneeze and find everyone around him suddenly vanished.
"I, too...no, I understand. I understand, but I did not want to say it...that seen from the outside, we, too, must look quite the fools."
Quite the fools—the implications of the term sunk heavily into Lawrence's ears.
It was a terrifying sensation, not unlike having completed a large business deal only to discover the calculations had been performed in the wrong currency.
Their relationship was something that had to be considered, yet considering it was terrifying.
Holo forcedly cleared her throat, scratching on the floor loudly with her fingernails. "I myself do not...I do not know why it is so embarrassing. No, I should even be angry—'those two certainly get along well,' you said so enviously, so what am I—"
"No," said Lawrence, cutting her off.
Holo glared at him like an angry child looking at an adult.
"No, I understand," he continued. "I think."
Holo's face became visibly darker at the way his voice grew hoarse at the end of his statement.
"No—I do understand. I do. I always have. I just didn't want to put it into words."
Holo began to rise, now on one knee rather than cross-legged. Her gaze was less doubtful and more of a warning—she seemed to be saying that she would not take betrayal lightly.
She might well fly at Lawrence, should he speak clumsily.
Her state seemed to be pushing him into saying something he normally would not have wanted to say.
"I was envious, but not of their relationship itself."
Holo hugged her knee.
Lawrence continued. "I should have made you give up searching this place."
She looked at him, stunned.
"Those two are probably going to live together in the church. Elsa's strength and cleverness will get her through the danger, and though I feel bad saying this, Evan will never be a merchant. But...what of us?"
Lawrence thought he heard a small voice, perhaps the sound of Holo inhaling sharply.
"I turned a profit in Kumersun. You learned more of your home. And you will probably learn still more here, and I am helping you. Of course"—here he spoke a bit louder, perceiving that Holo wanted to interrupt—"of course, I'm helping you because I want to. However..."
That which he had been able to avoid thinking about now confronted him.
Having gotten to this point, it would be a lie to say that the situation was impossible to explain.
But doing so would put more distance between them than slapping Holo's hand aside or not trusting her could.
No matter how skillfully one evaded, all debts eventually came due.
"However...what will you do after we reach your home?"
Holo's shadow on the wall became larger, perhaps because of the tail beneath her robe suddenly fluffing up.
But Holo herself seemed to shrink.
"I know not," came her voice, also small.
Lawrence had asked the question he did not want to ask.
He did not want to ask it because he dreaded the answer.
"I'm sure you will not be satisfied with a mere glance at your home."
Returning home after so many centuries gone—the words it's been a long time hardly sufficed.
Lawrence didn't have to ask what would happen once they arrived there.
He was filled with regret.
If he hadn't asked the question, the distance between them might well have grown.
And yet—he wished he hadn't asked.
If only Holo would look at him plainly and say, "There we shall say our farewells."
Seeing her so troubled made him feel helpless.
"No, forget it. I am sorry. There is no point in speculation," he said.
This was all pure speculation.


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

Input:
Holo put down the book she held, sitting cross-legged and grasping her ankles, her head low. She seemed in truly dire straits, avoiding looking at Lawrence as though it would blind her to do so.
Seeing her on the verge of tears, Lawrence could not help but feel deep concern. Then she spoke.
"Come now, you—"
Lawrence nodded.
"I...I wish that you would not sound so envious when you speak of them," she said.
Lawrence stood there, stunned, as if he'd been walking a crowded street only to sneeze and find everyone around him suddenly vanished.
"I, too...no, I understand. I understand, but I did not want to say it...that seen from the outside, we, too, must look quite the fools."
Quite the fools—the implications of the term sunk heavily into Lawrence's ears.
It was a terrifying sensation, not unlike having completed a large business deal only to discover the calculations had been performed in the wrong currency.
Their relationship was something that had to be considered, yet considering it was terrifying.
Holo forcedly cleared her throat, scratching on the floor loudly with her fingernails. "I myself do not...I do not know why it is so embarrassing. No, I should even be angry—'those two certainly get along well,' you said so enviously, so what am I—"
"No," said Lawrence, cutting her off.
Holo glared at him like an angry child looking at an adult.
"No, I understand," he continued. "I think."
Holo's face became visibly darker at the way his voice grew hoarse at the end of his statement.
"No—I do understand. I do. I always have. I just didn't want to put it into words."
Holo began to rise, now on one knee rather than cross-legged. Her gaze was less doubtful and more of a warning—she seemed to be saying that she would not take betrayal lightly.
She might well fly at Lawrence, should he speak clumsily.
Her state seemed to be pushing him into saying something he normally would not have wanted to say.
"I was envious, but not of their relationship itself."
Holo hugged her knee.
Lawrence continued. "I should have made you give up searching this place."
She looked at him, stunned.
"Those two are probably going to live together in the church. Elsa's strength and cleverness will get her through the danger, and though I feel bad saying this, Evan will never be a merchant. But...what of us?"
Lawrence thought he heard a small voice, perhaps the sound of Holo inhaling sharply.
"I turned a profit in Kumersun. You learned more of your home. And you will probably learn still more here, and I am helping you. Of course"—here he spoke a bit louder, perceiving that Holo wanted to interrupt—"of course, I'm helping you because I want to. However..."
That which he had been able to avoid thinking about now confronted him.
Having gotten to this point, it would be a lie to say that the situation was impossible to explain.
But doing so would put more distance between them than slapping Holo's hand aside or not trusting her could.
No matter how skillfully one evaded, all debts eventually came due.
"However...what will you do after we reach your home?"
Holo's shadow on the wall became larger, perhaps because of the tail beneath her robe suddenly fluffing up.
But Holo herself seemed to shrink.
"I know not," came her voice, also small.
Lawrence had asked the question he did not want to ask.
He did not want to ask it because he dreaded the answer.
"I'm sure you will not be satisfied with a mere glance at your home."
Returning home after so many centuries gone—the words it's been a long time hardly sufficed.
Lawrence didn't have to ask what would happen once they arrived there.
He was filled with regret.
If he hadn't asked the question, the distance between them might well have grown.
And yet—he wished he hadn't asked.
If only Holo would look at him plainly and say, "There we shall say our farewells."
Seeing her so troubled made him feel helpless.
"No, forget it. I am sorry. There is no point in speculation," he said.
This was all pure speculation.

Output:
Although parting with Holo would bring with it the pain of loss, he felt he would be able to give her up.
When he took a loss in business, he would spend a few days feeling as though it was the end of the world, only to return to working at making money again as though nothing had happened.
But when the act of thinking rationally about the possibility itself filled him with sadness, what then?
He did not know.
"I am Holo the Wisewolf," she murmured, staring at the flickering candle. "I am the Wisewolf of Yoitsu."
Holo rested her chin on her knee, then slowly stood.
Her tail hung limp, as though it was mere decoration.
She looked first at the candle placed on the floor, then at Lawrence.
"I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu," she said, as though the sentence was an incantation. With a quick stride she came to stand directly beside him, then immediately sat down.
Before Lawrence had a chance to say anything, she was lying down on his lap.
"Have you any complaints?" Holo's normal impudence was undeniably godlike.
But this impudence was entirely different.
"None whatsoever," said Lawrence.
Neither tears nor anger nor laughter seemed to quite suit this delicate situation, which brimmed with tension.
The candle burned soundlessly.
Lawrence casually rested his hand on Holo's shoulder as she lay in his lap.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit. Will you read in my place?"
Her face was hidden by her hair, and Lawrence could not see it.
But he knew full well when her teeth came down on his index finger.
"I shall," he said.
It was like a test of courage—not unlike seeing how close one can bring the point of a knife to a kitten's eye.
A bit of blood welled up from where his finger had been bitten.
He expected Holo would become truly angry unless he actually did some reading.
The only sound was the turning of pages.
Her evasion of the problem had been very forceful, but she had saved herself and Lawrence both.
She truly was a wisewolf.
On this count, Lawrence had no doubts.
Had the church been a monastery, it would have been time for the morning prayers thanking God for creating the new day.
Of course, it was far too early for the morning worship service.
The only sounds were of the turning pages and Holo's soft breathing.
Lawrence couldn't help but feel impressed at the fact that she'd fallen asleep. At the same time, he was a bit relieved that she had.
She had forcibly—so forcibly!—ended the conversation, demanding Lawrence neither say nor ask another thing.
Though she had not answered Lawrence's question, her actions alone were enough.
After all, they made one thing abundantly clear: Holo did not wish to confront the problem any more than Lawrence did.
If she had changed the subject while the true answer to his question lay within her, Lawrence probably would have been angry. But as neither of them had that answer, he was grateful she had ended the conversation by force.
At the very least, this meant she did not have to come up with an answer right then and there.
Their travels were not over, and they had not arrived in Yoitsu yet.
It was the rare debt that was repaid in full before it came due, after all.
As he thought these things over, Lawrence put down the book he was reading and picked up another volume.
Father Franz had evidently been an intelligent fellow. Within the books, even the lineage of the various gods had been carefully organized, and a glance at the title of each chapter gave one a reasonable idea of its contents. This made the books easy to skim. Lawrence shuddered to think of how difficult this task would have been if Father Franz had simply collected tales at random as he heard them.
However, while flipping through the pages of book after book, Lawrence realized something.
In addition to the normal, common tales of snakes, frogs, and fish, there were many stories of mountain, lake, and tree gods. Likewise, there were tales of gods of thunder and rain, sun and moon and stars.


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

Input:
Although parting with Holo would bring with it the pain of loss, he felt he would be able to give her up.
When he took a loss in business, he would spend a few days feeling as though it was the end of the world, only to return to working at making money again as though nothing had happened.
But when the act of thinking rationally about the possibility itself filled him with sadness, what then?
He did not know.
"I am Holo the Wisewolf," she murmured, staring at the flickering candle. "I am the Wisewolf of Yoitsu."
Holo rested her chin on her knee, then slowly stood.
Her tail hung limp, as though it was mere decoration.
She looked first at the candle placed on the floor, then at Lawrence.
"I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu," she said, as though the sentence was an incantation. With a quick stride she came to stand directly beside him, then immediately sat down.
Before Lawrence had a chance to say anything, she was lying down on his lap.
"Have you any complaints?" Holo's normal impudence was undeniably godlike.
But this impudence was entirely different.
"None whatsoever," said Lawrence.
Neither tears nor anger nor laughter seemed to quite suit this delicate situation, which brimmed with tension.
The candle burned soundlessly.
Lawrence casually rested his hand on Holo's shoulder as she lay in his lap.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit. Will you read in my place?"
Her face was hidden by her hair, and Lawrence could not see it.
But he knew full well when her teeth came down on his index finger.
"I shall," he said.
It was like a test of courage—not unlike seeing how close one can bring the point of a knife to a kitten's eye.
A bit of blood welled up from where his finger had been bitten.
He expected Holo would become truly angry unless he actually did some reading.
The only sound was the turning of pages.
Her evasion of the problem had been very forceful, but she had saved herself and Lawrence both.
She truly was a wisewolf.
On this count, Lawrence had no doubts.
Had the church been a monastery, it would have been time for the morning prayers thanking God for creating the new day.
Of course, it was far too early for the morning worship service.
The only sounds were of the turning pages and Holo's soft breathing.
Lawrence couldn't help but feel impressed at the fact that she'd fallen asleep. At the same time, he was a bit relieved that she had.
She had forcibly—so forcibly!—ended the conversation, demanding Lawrence neither say nor ask another thing.
Though she had not answered Lawrence's question, her actions alone were enough.
After all, they made one thing abundantly clear: Holo did not wish to confront the problem any more than Lawrence did.
If she had changed the subject while the true answer to his question lay within her, Lawrence probably would have been angry. But as neither of them had that answer, he was grateful she had ended the conversation by force.
At the very least, this meant she did not have to come up with an answer right then and there.
Their travels were not over, and they had not arrived in Yoitsu yet.
It was the rare debt that was repaid in full before it came due, after all.
As he thought these things over, Lawrence put down the book he was reading and picked up another volume.
Father Franz had evidently been an intelligent fellow. Within the books, even the lineage of the various gods had been carefully organized, and a glance at the title of each chapter gave one a reasonable idea of its contents. This made the books easy to skim. Lawrence shuddered to think of how difficult this task would have been if Father Franz had simply collected tales at random as he heard them.
However, while flipping through the pages of book after book, Lawrence realized something.
In addition to the normal, common tales of snakes, frogs, and fish, there were many stories of mountain, lake, and tree gods. Likewise, there were tales of gods of thunder and rain, sun and moon and stars.

Output:
In the pagan town of Kumersun, Diana had told many tales that concerned the bear spirit who destroyed Yoitsu. And near the Church city of Ruvinheigen, Lawrence himself had felt the unmistakable presence of a wolf-god not unlike Holo.
And Diana herself was a bird spirit larger than any human.
Given all this, the books should have been filled with beast legends. Yet Lawrence had found not one.
Did the books that they had brought up from the basement simply not happen to contain any such tales?
At that moment, Lawrence's eye fell on a sentence written on a piece of parchment that was tucked into the book he had just opened.
"It is not my wish to regard the tale of the bear spirit in this book with any kind of special treatment."
So far, every book Lawrence had looked through had simply been accounts of the tales Father Franz had heard, written in language as dry as any business contract. Having suddenly come upon this sentence in which he felt he could hear Father Franz's own voice, he was momentarily stunned.
"Regarding the stories in the other books—there are many which differ in time and place, but which I believe nonetheless refer to the same spirit. However, this particular spirit is the only one whose stories I have organized so thoroughly."
Lawrence wavered, trying to decide whether to wake Holo.
He was unable to turn his gaze away from the yellowed page. Father Franz's handwriting was neat, but at the same time, it seemed somehow excited.
"Is the Pope aware of this? If I am correct, then the God we worship triumphed without a fight. If that is proof of His omnipotence, how could I possibly remain calm?"
It seemed as though he could hear Father Franz's decisive pen strokes.
The passage concluded: "I do not wish to let bias cloud my view of all the tales. Yet I cannot help but wonder if the pagans of the northlands themselves did not realize the importance of the Moon-Hunting Bear. No, perhaps the very fact that I am writing this means that I am already biased. As I assembled these books, I felt strongly the existence of these spirits. If possible, I hope that one would judge not with the narrow mind of a worshipper of our God, but rather with the open heart of those whose love of God is like a zephyr in an open field. That is why I have ventured to leave this book in among all the others."
As soon as Lawrence flipped the piece of parchment over, the book's story began, much like any of the other books he had read.
Should he let Holo read it first? Or should he pretend not to have seen it?
The thought flitted through his mind for a moment, but it was too late for that now—and in any case, it would be a kind of betrayal.
He decided to wake Holo.
He closed the book, whereupon he could hear a strange sound.
Plip, plip, plip-plip came the small, dry sound.
"...Rain, eh?"
But as soon as he said it, he realized the raindrops were awfully large. Eventually he realized that the sound was of galloping hooves.
It was said that the sound of a galloping horse at night would draw a throng of demons.
When traveling by horse at night, one could never let it run.
Church follower and pagan alike believed this.
But its true meaning was common sense—a galloping horse at night never brought good tidings.
"Hey, wake up." Lawrence closed the book and tapped Holo's shoulder, listening carefully.
Judging by the sound of the hooves, there was a single horse, which entered the village square and came to an abrupt stop.
"Mmph...what is it?"
"I have two things to tell you."
"Neither good, no doubt."
"First, I found the book with stories of the Moon-Hunting Bear."
Holo's eyes widened in an instant, and she looked at the book near Lawrence's side.
But she was not the type to have her whole attention stolen by a single thing.
Her wolf ears flicked smartly, and she looked back at the wall behind them. "Did something happen?"
"That seems very likely. There is nothing less welcome than the sound of a horse's gallop at night."


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

Input:
In the pagan town of Kumersun, Diana had told many tales that concerned the bear spirit who destroyed Yoitsu. And near the Church city of Ruvinheigen, Lawrence himself had felt the unmistakable presence of a wolf-god not unlike Holo.
And Diana herself was a bird spirit larger than any human.
Given all this, the books should have been filled with beast legends. Yet Lawrence had found not one.
Did the books that they had brought up from the basement simply not happen to contain any such tales?
At that moment, Lawrence's eye fell on a sentence written on a piece of parchment that was tucked into the book he had just opened.
"It is not my wish to regard the tale of the bear spirit in this book with any kind of special treatment."
So far, every book Lawrence had looked through had simply been accounts of the tales Father Franz had heard, written in language as dry as any business contract. Having suddenly come upon this sentence in which he felt he could hear Father Franz's own voice, he was momentarily stunned.
"Regarding the stories in the other books—there are many which differ in time and place, but which I believe nonetheless refer to the same spirit. However, this particular spirit is the only one whose stories I have organized so thoroughly."
Lawrence wavered, trying to decide whether to wake Holo.
He was unable to turn his gaze away from the yellowed page. Father Franz's handwriting was neat, but at the same time, it seemed somehow excited.
"Is the Pope aware of this? If I am correct, then the God we worship triumphed without a fight. If that is proof of His omnipotence, how could I possibly remain calm?"
It seemed as though he could hear Father Franz's decisive pen strokes.
The passage concluded: "I do not wish to let bias cloud my view of all the tales. Yet I cannot help but wonder if the pagans of the northlands themselves did not realize the importance of the Moon-Hunting Bear. No, perhaps the very fact that I am writing this means that I am already biased. As I assembled these books, I felt strongly the existence of these spirits. If possible, I hope that one would judge not with the narrow mind of a worshipper of our God, but rather with the open heart of those whose love of God is like a zephyr in an open field. That is why I have ventured to leave this book in among all the others."
As soon as Lawrence flipped the piece of parchment over, the book's story began, much like any of the other books he had read.
Should he let Holo read it first? Or should he pretend not to have seen it?
The thought flitted through his mind for a moment, but it was too late for that now—and in any case, it would be a kind of betrayal.
He decided to wake Holo.
He closed the book, whereupon he could hear a strange sound.
Plip, plip, plip-plip came the small, dry sound.
"...Rain, eh?"
But as soon as he said it, he realized the raindrops were awfully large. Eventually he realized that the sound was of galloping hooves.
It was said that the sound of a galloping horse at night would draw a throng of demons.
When traveling by horse at night, one could never let it run.
Church follower and pagan alike believed this.
But its true meaning was common sense—a galloping horse at night never brought good tidings.
"Hey, wake up." Lawrence closed the book and tapped Holo's shoulder, listening carefully.
Judging by the sound of the hooves, there was a single horse, which entered the village square and came to an abrupt stop.
"Mmph...what is it?"
"I have two things to tell you."
"Neither good, no doubt."
"First, I found the book with stories of the Moon-Hunting Bear."
Holo's eyes widened in an instant, and she looked at the book near Lawrence's side.
But she was not the type to have her whole attention stolen by a single thing.
Her wolf ears flicked smartly, and she looked back at the wall behind them. "Did something happen?"
"That seems very likely. There is nothing less welcome than the sound of a horse's gallop at night."

Output:
She took it, but he did not let go.
"I don't know what you plan to do upon reading this, but whatever thoughts you have, I'd like you to tell me about them."
Holo did not look up, but gazed evenly at the book. "Hmph," she replied. "I suppose you could've easily hidden this book. Very well. I promise."
Lawrence nodded as he stood. "I'll go look outside," he said, walking away.
Naturally, the church was dark and quiet, though not so dark that Lawrence's eyes were useless.
Once he arrived in the living room, there was a bit of moonlight filtering in through the cracks of the window, which improved visibility.
He could see well enough to be able to instantly identify the figure that was creaking its way down the stairs as Elsa.
"I heard the sound of a galloping horse," she said.
"Any notion of what is afoot?"
He expected she did, otherwise she would not have come immediately downstairs.
"More than I'd like."
A village like Tereo was too small for the hooves to be from a town lookout coming to warn of a mercenary attack.
It probably had something to do with Enberch.
But had the crisis not already passed?
Elsa trotted over to the window and peeked out through the crack as she had no doubt done many times in the past.
Unsurprisingly, the horse seemed to have stopped in front of the village elder's house.
"I only know what I have been able to piece together, but judging from the papers on your desk, Enberch should not be able to strike, should they?" said Lawrence.
"A merchant's eyes are keen indeed. But yes. I believe so myself. However—"
"If you are going to tell me that the situation would be different if I'd betrayed you, I should tie you up immediately."
Unintimidated, Elsa looked sharply at Lawrence.
She soon looked away.
"In any case, I am a traveler. If things go badly, my position becomes very dangerous. There are scores of tales of merchants who became wrapped up in local problems and lost everything."
"So long as I am here, I will not allow anything like that to happen. But please, go and close up the cellar. If there is trouble with Enberch, the village elder will certainly come here."
"And what of the reason we are here so late at night?"
Elsa's cleverness was different than Holo's. Somehow Lawrence felt an affinity with the girl. "...Bring a blanket to the sanctuary."
"Agreed. My companion is a nun, after all. No argument, then?"
Though Lawrence had only wanted to confirm their cover story, Elsa did not reply.
For if she had, she would have been telling a lie.
She was a clergywoman through and through.
"Elder Sem has come out," said Elsa.
"Understood." Lawrence turned and went to Holo.
In times like these, Holo's keen ears were quite useful.
She had already returned most of the books to the cellar and put her robes back on.
"Take that one book with you. We'll hide it behind the altar," said Lawrence.
Holo nodded, handing the remaining books one by one to Lawrence, who had descended halfway down the stairs to the cellar.
"This should be all of them," she said.
"Then take the hallway opposite the living room. If you continue around the corner, it should take you to the entrance behind the altar. Head in there, and take the book—"
Holo ran off without waiting to hear the end of the sentence.
Lawrence climbed out of the cellar, replacing the pedestal and putting the statue of the Holy Mother back on top of it.
He was nervous for a moment, unable to find the keyhole in the floor, but he managed to locate it, and after locking up with the brass key Elsa had given him, he gathered up the blanket and went after Holo.
Church construction was very similar the world over.
Just as he had expected, the entrance was there, its doors open.
He trotted down the narrow path that he knew should lead to the altar, protecting the candle flame with his hand. Soon his view expanded.
A few slivers of moonlight slipped past a window on the second floor, enough that Lawrence felt he did not need the candle.


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

Input:
She took it, but he did not let go.
"I don't know what you plan to do upon reading this, but whatever thoughts you have, I'd like you to tell me about them."
Holo did not look up, but gazed evenly at the book. "Hmph," she replied. "I suppose you could've easily hidden this book. Very well. I promise."
Lawrence nodded as he stood. "I'll go look outside," he said, walking away.
Naturally, the church was dark and quiet, though not so dark that Lawrence's eyes were useless.
Once he arrived in the living room, there was a bit of moonlight filtering in through the cracks of the window, which improved visibility.
He could see well enough to be able to instantly identify the figure that was creaking its way down the stairs as Elsa.
"I heard the sound of a galloping horse," she said.
"Any notion of what is afoot?"
He expected she did, otherwise she would not have come immediately downstairs.
"More than I'd like."
A village like Tereo was too small for the hooves to be from a town lookout coming to warn of a mercenary attack.
It probably had something to do with Enberch.
But had the crisis not already passed?
Elsa trotted over to the window and peeked out through the crack as she had no doubt done many times in the past.
Unsurprisingly, the horse seemed to have stopped in front of the village elder's house.
"I only know what I have been able to piece together, but judging from the papers on your desk, Enberch should not be able to strike, should they?" said Lawrence.
"A merchant's eyes are keen indeed. But yes. I believe so myself. However—"
"If you are going to tell me that the situation would be different if I'd betrayed you, I should tie you up immediately."
Unintimidated, Elsa looked sharply at Lawrence.
She soon looked away.
"In any case, I am a traveler. If things go badly, my position becomes very dangerous. There are scores of tales of merchants who became wrapped up in local problems and lost everything."
"So long as I am here, I will not allow anything like that to happen. But please, go and close up the cellar. If there is trouble with Enberch, the village elder will certainly come here."
"And what of the reason we are here so late at night?"
Elsa's cleverness was different than Holo's. Somehow Lawrence felt an affinity with the girl. "...Bring a blanket to the sanctuary."
"Agreed. My companion is a nun, after all. No argument, then?"
Though Lawrence had only wanted to confirm their cover story, Elsa did not reply.
For if she had, she would have been telling a lie.
She was a clergywoman through and through.
"Elder Sem has come out," said Elsa.
"Understood." Lawrence turned and went to Holo.
In times like these, Holo's keen ears were quite useful.
She had already returned most of the books to the cellar and put her robes back on.
"Take that one book with you. We'll hide it behind the altar," said Lawrence.
Holo nodded, handing the remaining books one by one to Lawrence, who had descended halfway down the stairs to the cellar.
"This should be all of them," she said.
"Then take the hallway opposite the living room. If you continue around the corner, it should take you to the entrance behind the altar. Head in there, and take the book—"
Holo ran off without waiting to hear the end of the sentence.
Lawrence climbed out of the cellar, replacing the pedestal and putting the statue of the Holy Mother back on top of it.
He was nervous for a moment, unable to find the keyhole in the floor, but he managed to locate it, and after locking up with the brass key Elsa had given him, he gathered up the blanket and went after Holo.
Church construction was very similar the world over.
Just as he had expected, the entrance was there, its doors open.
He trotted down the narrow path that he knew should lead to the altar, protecting the candle flame with his hand. Soon his view expanded.
A few slivers of moonlight slipped past a window on the second floor, enough that Lawrence felt he did not need the candle.

Output:
He motioned with his eyes to Holo—hurry!
It could be problematic to explain the key if it was found on them, so he hid it behind the altar as well.
They sat on the floor's only indentation, the place where Father Franz had probably said his prayers for so many years.
Lawrence extinguished the candle and wrapped himself and Holo up in the blanket.
It had been some time since he'd acted so very like a thief outside the door.
Once long ago in a harbor town, he had snuck into a trading company's building with a friend to peek at the company's order ledger.
At the time, he had not yet learned how to judge which goods were in demand. Thinking on the situation now, Lawrence realized it was a terrifying risk to take, although still much less so than what he was doing at this very moment.
After all, nothing he was doing in Tereo would make his coin purse any heavier.
The door opened, and Sem's voice filled the room. "Still, as the village elder, I—"
Lawrence took a deep breath and looked up, dazed as though he had just woken from sleep.
"My apologies for disturbing your holy time in the church," said Sem.
Behind him were Elsa and another villager wielding a wooden stave.
"Did something...happen?" Lawrence asked.
"I hope that as someone who has traveled much, you will understand. We may cause you some inconvenience for a time. Please bear with us."
The villager wielding the staff took a step forward. Lawrence noted this and stood.
"I am a merchant who belongs to the Rowen Trade Guild. Many people in the guild's house in Kumersun are aware that I have come to this village."
The villager looked back at Sem, surprised.
If trouble was to arise with a trade guild, a village the size of Tereo could not hope to escape unscathed.
In terms of financial strength, a merchant guild was like a nation.
"Of course, Elder Sem, so long as you are taking appropriate actions as the representative of the village, then as a traveler I will certainly abide by them."
"...I understand. But the reason I appear before you and your companion is not out of any malice, I assure you."
"What has happened?"
The patter of more footsteps was heard; Evan had probably awoken.
Sem glanced in the direction of the footfalls, then looked back. He spoke slowly.
"Someone in Enberch has eaten the wheat of this village and died."
***
The first thing that came to Lawrence's mind was a poisonous wheat known as Ridelius's Hellfire.
If eaten, it rotted a victim's limbs from the inside, and he or she would die screaming in agony. Even a small amount would cause terrible hallucinations and force a pregnant woman to miscarry.
The wheat was believed to come from demons who added fake black wheat to normal ears of wheat, and if it went unnoticed during the harvest and was ground into flour, it would become impossible to find.
No one would know the wheat was poison until someone ate it and developed symptoms.
To a farming village that raised wheat, its appearance was a calamity as bad as drought or flood.
The truly frightening thing about the wheat was not the suffering and death that it caused.
What made it so terrible was that when Ridelius's Hellfire was discovered in a year's harvest, none of the harvest could be eaten.
"And no one from our village has been poisoned?" asked Sem.
"I don't think so, Elder. Grandma Jean is sick in bed, but it's just a cold," said a villager.
"The new wheat was used only to bake bread for the harvest festival, right? So at least we know the wheat we ground before that is safe."
The large, flat rock in the village square seemed to be the place where the villagers met to discuss important matters.
The fire burned red as the sleepy-faced villagers rubbed their eyes and watched their leaders voice various opinions.


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

Input:
He motioned with his eyes to Holo—hurry!
It could be problematic to explain the key if it was found on them, so he hid it behind the altar as well.
They sat on the floor's only indentation, the place where Father Franz had probably said his prayers for so many years.
Lawrence extinguished the candle and wrapped himself and Holo up in the blanket.
It had been some time since he'd acted so very like a thief outside the door.
Once long ago in a harbor town, he had snuck into a trading company's building with a friend to peek at the company's order ledger.
At the time, he had not yet learned how to judge which goods were in demand. Thinking on the situation now, Lawrence realized it was a terrifying risk to take, although still much less so than what he was doing at this very moment.
After all, nothing he was doing in Tereo would make his coin purse any heavier.
The door opened, and Sem's voice filled the room. "Still, as the village elder, I—"
Lawrence took a deep breath and looked up, dazed as though he had just woken from sleep.
"My apologies for disturbing your holy time in the church," said Sem.
Behind him were Elsa and another villager wielding a wooden stave.
"Did something...happen?" Lawrence asked.
"I hope that as someone who has traveled much, you will understand. We may cause you some inconvenience for a time. Please bear with us."
The villager wielding the staff took a step forward. Lawrence noted this and stood.
"I am a merchant who belongs to the Rowen Trade Guild. Many people in the guild's house in Kumersun are aware that I have come to this village."
The villager looked back at Sem, surprised.
If trouble was to arise with a trade guild, a village the size of Tereo could not hope to escape unscathed.
In terms of financial strength, a merchant guild was like a nation.
"Of course, Elder Sem, so long as you are taking appropriate actions as the representative of the village, then as a traveler I will certainly abide by them."
"...I understand. But the reason I appear before you and your companion is not out of any malice, I assure you."
"What has happened?"
The patter of more footsteps was heard; Evan had probably awoken.
Sem glanced in the direction of the footfalls, then looked back. He spoke slowly.
"Someone in Enberch has eaten the wheat of this village and died."
***
The first thing that came to Lawrence's mind was a poisonous wheat known as Ridelius's Hellfire.
If eaten, it rotted a victim's limbs from the inside, and he or she would die screaming in agony. Even a small amount would cause terrible hallucinations and force a pregnant woman to miscarry.
The wheat was believed to come from demons who added fake black wheat to normal ears of wheat, and if it went unnoticed during the harvest and was ground into flour, it would become impossible to find.
No one would know the wheat was poison until someone ate it and developed symptoms.
To a farming village that raised wheat, its appearance was a calamity as bad as drought or flood.
The truly frightening thing about the wheat was not the suffering and death that it caused.
What made it so terrible was that when Ridelius's Hellfire was discovered in a year's harvest, none of the harvest could be eaten.
"And no one from our village has been poisoned?" asked Sem.
"I don't think so, Elder. Grandma Jean is sick in bed, but it's just a cold," said a villager.
"The new wheat was used only to bake bread for the harvest festival, right? So at least we know the wheat we ground before that is safe."
The large, flat rock in the village square seemed to be the place where the villagers met to discuss important matters.
The fire burned red as the sleepy-faced villagers rubbed their eyes and watched their leaders voice various opinions.

Output:
"R-return the wheat...That means..."
At the innkeeper's murmur, all gathered there in the circle fell silent.
It was Iima who finally spoke. She was one of the few women who had joined the gathering at the stone.
"It means we'll have to return the money. Isn't that right, Elder Sem?"
"...Yes."
The villagers went pale at the pronouncement, clutching their heads.
Money used was money gone.
And most of the villagers did not seem likely to have been carefully saving their earnings.
There were a few, though, who did not clutch their heads in dread—Elder Sem, bar mistress Iima, and Elsa, along with the man who had delivered the letter to Sem during Lawrence's first visit. And Lawrence and Holo, of course.
It was not because these people had savings or were especially brave, but rather because they were all capable of rationally thinking about the problem.
Seen from outside, it was a simple scenario to understand.
This wheat crisis was a play directed by Enberch.
"Elder, whatever shall we do? We've used the money to buy pigs and chickens and to repair our scythes and plows!"
"That's hardly the whole of it. This year's harvest was abundant, so our tavern laid in fine food and drink. If our money went into such purchases, that means yours did as well," said Iima.
All who had drunk too much the night before now unavoidably hung their heads in regret.
Iima's words only deepened their shame. She turned to Sem. "But, Elder—that's not the only problem, is it?" Iima, the woman who had hauled a brewing pot about on her back, selling her ale as she traveled, was an imposing figure indeed.
"Indeed not. Once poison wheat is mixed in with the real wheat, the whole harvest is lost. This year's harvest was great—but last year's was not."
Once wheat had been sown and harvested, bringing in triple the sown amount was acceptable. Quadrupling the amount was an excellent harvest. Once the next year's seed grain was removed, the amount set aside in case of a poor harvest was limited.
It was possible that the villagers had already eaten last year's reserve, having counted on this year's good harvest.
In any case, the village's food supply was in dire straits.
And they had no money with which to buy new wheat.
"What shall we do? Poverty is bearable but not starvation!"
"Indeed. However, I—" Sem was going to continue speaking, but he was interrupted when a man next to the innkeeper stood suddenly and pointed at Lawrence and Holo.
"They're the ones who mixed poison wheat in with the harvest! I asked him, and he admitted to bringing wheat in! He's here to ruin our harvest and then force us to buy his wheat!"
Lawrence had imagined this would happen.
He also knew that Sem had not brought him and Holo to the square out of malice.
The elder had known there was a good possibility that if Lawrence and Holo were absent, the villagers would take weapons in hand and go searching for them with suspicion and doubt in their hearts.
"Th-that must be it! He went to Evan's all alone to grind his wheat! No, Evan's in it with him, and they're trying to destroy the village!"
"Aye, it's Evan! Where did that lying miller scum go? Let's tie them up together and make them tell us which wheat they poisoned!"
The villagers stood up one after another, ready to pounce on Lawrence.
Suddenly Elsa took a step forward and spoke. "Please wait."
"This is no time for women to interrupt. Get back!"
"Excuse me?" Iima now stood beside Elsa; she was fully three times the size of the smaller girl. The men cringed, their spirits somewhat cowed.
Elder Sem cleared his throat as if to settle things for a moment. "Evan is in the church. We can assign blame later. What is important right now is the wheat that may be returned and the money they're sure to ask for."
"We can't pay with money we don't have! We'll have to ask them to wait until next..."
"If only it were so simple."
The men were stunned at the elder's words. "Elder, what...what do you mean?"


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

Input:
"R-return the wheat...That means..."
At the innkeeper's murmur, all gathered there in the circle fell silent.
It was Iima who finally spoke. She was one of the few women who had joined the gathering at the stone.
"It means we'll have to return the money. Isn't that right, Elder Sem?"
"...Yes."
The villagers went pale at the pronouncement, clutching their heads.
Money used was money gone.
And most of the villagers did not seem likely to have been carefully saving their earnings.
There were a few, though, who did not clutch their heads in dread—Elder Sem, bar mistress Iima, and Elsa, along with the man who had delivered the letter to Sem during Lawrence's first visit. And Lawrence and Holo, of course.
It was not because these people had savings or were especially brave, but rather because they were all capable of rationally thinking about the problem.
Seen from outside, it was a simple scenario to understand.
This wheat crisis was a play directed by Enberch.
"Elder, whatever shall we do? We've used the money to buy pigs and chickens and to repair our scythes and plows!"
"That's hardly the whole of it. This year's harvest was abundant, so our tavern laid in fine food and drink. If our money went into such purchases, that means yours did as well," said Iima.
All who had drunk too much the night before now unavoidably hung their heads in regret.
Iima's words only deepened their shame. She turned to Sem. "But, Elder—that's not the only problem, is it?" Iima, the woman who had hauled a brewing pot about on her back, selling her ale as she traveled, was an imposing figure indeed.
"Indeed not. Once poison wheat is mixed in with the real wheat, the whole harvest is lost. This year's harvest was great—but last year's was not."
Once wheat had been sown and harvested, bringing in triple the sown amount was acceptable. Quadrupling the amount was an excellent harvest. Once the next year's seed grain was removed, the amount set aside in case of a poor harvest was limited.
It was possible that the villagers had already eaten last year's reserve, having counted on this year's good harvest.
In any case, the village's food supply was in dire straits.
And they had no money with which to buy new wheat.
"What shall we do? Poverty is bearable but not starvation!"
"Indeed. However, I—" Sem was going to continue speaking, but he was interrupted when a man next to the innkeeper stood suddenly and pointed at Lawrence and Holo.
"They're the ones who mixed poison wheat in with the harvest! I asked him, and he admitted to bringing wheat in! He's here to ruin our harvest and then force us to buy his wheat!"
Lawrence had imagined this would happen.
He also knew that Sem had not brought him and Holo to the square out of malice.
The elder had known there was a good possibility that if Lawrence and Holo were absent, the villagers would take weapons in hand and go searching for them with suspicion and doubt in their hearts.
"Th-that must be it! He went to Evan's all alone to grind his wheat! No, Evan's in it with him, and they're trying to destroy the village!"
"Aye, it's Evan! Where did that lying miller scum go? Let's tie them up together and make them tell us which wheat they poisoned!"
The villagers stood up one after another, ready to pounce on Lawrence.
Suddenly Elsa took a step forward and spoke. "Please wait."
"This is no time for women to interrupt. Get back!"
"Excuse me?" Iima now stood beside Elsa; she was fully three times the size of the smaller girl. The men cringed, their spirits somewhat cowed.
Elder Sem cleared his throat as if to settle things for a moment. "Evan is in the church. We can assign blame later. What is important right now is the wheat that may be returned and the money they're sure to ask for."
"We can't pay with money we don't have! We'll have to ask them to wait until next..."
"If only it were so simple."
The men were stunned at the elder's words. "Elder, what...what do you mean?"

Output:
"Surely not..."
The faces of the older men among the gathering were full of bitterness.
"What are you saying, Elder? Enberch isn't allowed to do anything to this village! Father Franz has already made it so!"
Lawrence didn't know whether Sem had not explained the nature of Enberch's relationship to the village or whether the men simply didn't want to understand it, but he soon found out.
"Anyway, we should never have allowed Elsa to inherit Father Franz's position! Enberch will never respect that!"
"Quite so! She spends all day in that church, never once coming out to work the fields—though she eats her share of bread, 'tis sure. Everyone knows it was thanks to Lord Truyeo's blessings that the harvest was so good this year. How could some church girl—"
"Enough!" said Sem.
Uncertainty only fanned the flames of discontent.
They burned from the driest, most flammable places, then spread from there.
It was easy for Lawrence to imagine how hard the serious Elsa had worked to preserve Father Franz's legacy.
Having cooperated with her, Sem would likewise have understood.
But it was all too plain from the villagers' words how they regarded the girl.
Lawrence noticed Elsa's clenched fists and her expressionless face.
"What shall we do, Elder?" someone asked.
"In any case, each of us must check to see how much harvest money we have yet, as well as how many provisions we've laid in for winter. Until the Enberch messenger arrives, we don't know what they'll demand. They may arrive as soon as daybreak. We should adjourn until then—each of you go now, and check as I've told you to."
Though the men's sighs were heavy and dissatisfied, they reluctantly stood.
The gazes that Lawrence and Elsa endured as the men left the meeting stone were full of resentment.
Though the villagers were unreasonable, it was fortunate that Elder Sem seemed to be their ally.
If Sem had been their enemy, then Lawrence would have had no choice but to ask for Holo's help.
As the villagers dispersed, Sem approached Elsa, his staff in hand. "Elsa, I know this is hard but please endure."
Elsa nodded silently. Sem next turned to Iima.
"Iima, please go with Elsa to the church. The angriest ones may attempt to break in."
"You can count on me," said Iima.
Lawrence immediately understood the power relationships within the village.
But where did that leave him and Holo?
"Mr. Lawrence," Sem finally said, turning to face him. "Like the other villagers, I have my doubts about you. The timing is too coincidental. However, I hope you would not think me such a fool that I would immediately jump to a conclusion."
"Were I in your place, Elder Sem, I would say the same thing," replied Lawrence.
His old age made his brow constantly wrinkled, but he seemed slightly relieved. "Both for your own safety and to prevent suspicions from growing still deeper, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to come to my house."
Holo and Lawrence were fortunate that he didn't simply tie them up without any explanation. If they had resisted, it seemed to Lawrence that bloodshed would soon have followed.
He nodded cooperatively and walked toward Sem's house behind Sem and the villagers.
"Y'know, there's a locked cell somewhere in that village," the rumor would go once everyone's tongues were sufficiently loosened by wine.
It happened after the merchant in question had drunk too much and told all of his tales of profit.
Once he was told of more money to be made, he was all too happy to follow the villagers into the elder's house, only to be locked in a cell, never to escape.
As long as none of the villagers spoke of the event, no one would ever know what happened to the merchant.
His belongings were all sold off, and the merchant himself was offered up as a sacrifice for a good harvest.
Strangely, rumors like these seemed to be more common around wealthier villages.
Fortunately, it did not seem like the sort of thing that was likely to happen in Tereo.