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

Input:
He thought that Arte was trying to express her disappointment because she thought he ultimately treated her just like every other girl.
He had suddenly appeared once Myuri and Arte left the room, but despite his large frame and frightening visage that would make any war veteran flinch, he had come to me on the verge of tears and vented all the worries he had been carrying inside of him.
I wanted to say how utterly exasperated I was at Arte's father's misunderstanding, who had failed to realize how his daughter truly felt, but I realized right away that things had turned out like this because he had cared so for his daughter.
He never said that swordplay was unfitting for a girl her age, since she loved the blade so. He had let his daughter do as she pleased, not forcing her to conform to what social norms dictated.
And it was because of that he had misread Arte's intentions; but what made it even more complicated was that Arte had done the very same thing.
From her point of view, all she ever talked about with her father was the sword and war, so how could she suddenly talk about love and romance with him? How could she say that she had been deeply touched by the poems Mercurio had spun for her? Would he not be disappointed that she had turned out to be such an effeminate girl?
That was where it all started.
And that was why Arte's father had come to me with a single request.
"I'm not sure what kind of ideas Arte put into your head, but please do not let this ceremony go to waste."
One could say he was practically leaving it all up to me.
That was because he had prepared something for Arte to fall in love with Mercurio all over again. She loved the sword so much, he was sure she would most certainly be taken with what he had planned. And he approached me to tell me that Mercurio, too, would go to any lengths to make Arte fall deeper in love him.
When he said that, I realized that Mercurio had been caught in the same trap, too.
I had no idea what would be set loose besides a massive, heavy sigh.
God might have known everything, but people did not. People could only judge others from a narrow, limited perspective.
That was true for how much more timid Arte's fierce-looking father was than I had first thought, and it was the same for Mercurio, who could not believe that Arte had no interest whatsoever in her husband's sword skill. And Arte, too, had convinced herself that Mercurio was looking for slim shoulders, a thin waist, and polite grace in a wife.
The father had not the scarcest idea that his rambunctious daughter had genuinely fallen in love, and the daughter assumed that her father thought only a fierce-looking man could be appropriate for the Pristol family.
One must recall why weddings were topped with cream and sugar.
Because demons hated sweet food.
"...What were we, then?"
Myuri, after returning the sword to its proper owner, sat cross-legged, sulking. Several dogs surrounded her, their tails wagging while hoping that the wolf girl might pet them on the head.
"A bit of spice, perhaps. Well, we were judged and summoned for our looks to begin with anyway."
Myuri sighed, patted each dog on the head in turn, then spoke.
"...But Miss Arte was so pretty."
She looked up, spotting members of the Cedano and Pristol families patting one another on the shoulders as they left the chapel. They had ironed out a plan and made preparations so that this curious wedding ceremony would progress smoothly. They seemed genuinely relieved to see the new couple leave the church hand in hand.
I extended my hand to the sitting Myuri, and she stared hard at it before saying, "Brother, do you dream of stories about knights and princesses like that, too?"
I was not sure for what reason she had asked me that, but I answered honestly.
"I am not suited to be a knight."
***
Myuri silently took my hand and stood.
"Then what role are you playing when you take my hand and walk like this?"
"You said it yourself. Your older brother."

Output:
She then said with a glare, "Didn't watching this whole fight make you think that you might be the only one who thinks that?"
People judged others by appearances, and it was difficult to overturn an impression once made; people oftentimes did not even know themselves.
That was generally correct; however, it was of course not everything.
"Even if I were mistaken, it is much more believable than you thinking yourself an adult."
"Hey, what does that mean?!"
"Exactly what I said. I swear, you even had a sword ready for yourself; were you really planning on fighting with it?"
Mixing up adventure stories and reality was not something an adult would do.
"As long as you are a child, you will remain my little sister."
"Brother, you dummy!" Myuri shouted, and all the dogs' ears perked up in surprise.
"Yes, yes, I know. Let us concentrate on settling the matters before us for now, then. You still have to cut the cake and hand it to the bride in the courtyard."
Myuri, who had clung to my arm and pushed her face up against me as though to bite me, groaned for a moment before finally lifting her head.
"Aaaagh! I wanna get married, too!"
She then grabbed my hand and ran off.
"Let's go, Brother! The food'll be gone!"
"Huh? H-hey, Myuri!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha!"
That led us out into the courtyard, and now with needless worry lifted from our shoulders, everyone was ready to continue with the joyous celebration.
The drink started flowing, and things became rather lively.
Arte and Mercurio thanked us, and all their relatives thanked us as well.
I had done nothing, however. In the end, they had all simply acted out of consideration for the feelings of others.
And so a wedding that had taken place in one small corner of Rausbourne ended peacefully, and we secured the puppy with fur just like Myuri's that we had been looking for and returned to the manor that Hyland was borrowing without incident.
We did run into Hyland, who had returned from her official business, and though her eyes widened at our exhausted state, we agreed to tell her about the details at a later date, then promptly withdrew to our room. Myuri, tired from dancing, collapsed on the bed with the puppy still hugged to her chest.
The sight exasperated me, but Myuri, after patting the clinging puppy on its head and placing it under the bed, looked at me with eyes filled with both fatigue and lingering excitement.
"Brother, do you remember your promise?"
"My promise?"
Still lying on the bed, Myuri stuck out her arms.
"That you'd give me a hug when we got back to the manor."
Her lovely plaited hair for the ceremony and face flushed from fervor made it seem like she had suddenly grown up. She was an evil wolf, here to confound the lambs that did their best to live on the path of faith.
Perhaps that was what she wanted me to think, but I had been dealing with Myuri for a little over a decade.
"Oh yes—actually, I did manage to sneak you a little gift."
"...Hmm?"
"Didn't you want one of those large utensils?"
"Wait, what?!"
I was talking about the massive prop used to bless the future life of the couple, so that they may not ever have trouble finding food.
Myuri shot up and crawled across the bed just like a dog that had been shown a piece of meat.
"B-brother, did you...get that for—?"
Myuri's maiden face was bursting with anticipation, and I showed her what I got.
"You had some, did you not? I heard that those wheat noodles are a specialty in Arte's hometown. This tool is used for boiling those noodles."
What I produced was a long board with several protrusions sticking out of it.
Apparently, this was placed in the pot, used to stir the noodles, then pulled out.
"Oh...Whaaa...?"
All the life left Myuri's body at the sight of something completely different from what she had expected.
It was almost comical how quickly her ears and tail deflated; I sat down next to her and said, "See, when I saw this, it struck me. It is the perfect shape for caring for your fur."


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

Input:
She then said with a glare, "Didn't watching this whole fight make you think that you might be the only one who thinks that?"
People judged others by appearances, and it was difficult to overturn an impression once made; people oftentimes did not even know themselves.
That was generally correct; however, it was of course not everything.
"Even if I were mistaken, it is much more believable than you thinking yourself an adult."
"Hey, what does that mean?!"
"Exactly what I said. I swear, you even had a sword ready for yourself; were you really planning on fighting with it?"
Mixing up adventure stories and reality was not something an adult would do.
"As long as you are a child, you will remain my little sister."
"Brother, you dummy!" Myuri shouted, and all the dogs' ears perked up in surprise.
"Yes, yes, I know. Let us concentrate on settling the matters before us for now, then. You still have to cut the cake and hand it to the bride in the courtyard."
Myuri, who had clung to my arm and pushed her face up against me as though to bite me, groaned for a moment before finally lifting her head.
"Aaaagh! I wanna get married, too!"
She then grabbed my hand and ran off.
"Let's go, Brother! The food'll be gone!"
"Huh? H-hey, Myuri!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha!"
That led us out into the courtyard, and now with needless worry lifted from our shoulders, everyone was ready to continue with the joyous celebration.
The drink started flowing, and things became rather lively.
Arte and Mercurio thanked us, and all their relatives thanked us as well.
I had done nothing, however. In the end, they had all simply acted out of consideration for the feelings of others.
And so a wedding that had taken place in one small corner of Rausbourne ended peacefully, and we secured the puppy with fur just like Myuri's that we had been looking for and returned to the manor that Hyland was borrowing without incident.
We did run into Hyland, who had returned from her official business, and though her eyes widened at our exhausted state, we agreed to tell her about the details at a later date, then promptly withdrew to our room. Myuri, tired from dancing, collapsed on the bed with the puppy still hugged to her chest.
The sight exasperated me, but Myuri, after patting the clinging puppy on its head and placing it under the bed, looked at me with eyes filled with both fatigue and lingering excitement.
"Brother, do you remember your promise?"
"My promise?"
Still lying on the bed, Myuri stuck out her arms.
"That you'd give me a hug when we got back to the manor."
Her lovely plaited hair for the ceremony and face flushed from fervor made it seem like she had suddenly grown up. She was an evil wolf, here to confound the lambs that did their best to live on the path of faith.
Perhaps that was what she wanted me to think, but I had been dealing with Myuri for a little over a decade.
"Oh yes—actually, I did manage to sneak you a little gift."
"...Hmm?"
"Didn't you want one of those large utensils?"
"Wait, what?!"
I was talking about the massive prop used to bless the future life of the couple, so that they may not ever have trouble finding food.
Myuri shot up and crawled across the bed just like a dog that had been shown a piece of meat.
"B-brother, did you...get that for—?"
Myuri's maiden face was bursting with anticipation, and I showed her what I got.
"You had some, did you not? I heard that those wheat noodles are a specialty in Arte's hometown. This tool is used for boiling those noodles."
What I produced was a long board with several protrusions sticking out of it.
Apparently, this was placed in the pot, used to stir the noodles, then pulled out.
"Oh...Whaaa...?"
All the life left Myuri's body at the sight of something completely different from what she had expected.
It was almost comical how quickly her ears and tail deflated; I sat down next to her and said, "See, when I saw this, it struck me. It is the perfect shape for caring for your fur."

Output:
It was like gold had come pouring out from a place she had least expected.
"Its size is perfectly suitable for caring for your fur, even when you return to your wolf form. I believe you should be taking good care of yourself in wolf form—your coat is so beautiful, after all—and not just your hair."
Myuri's mouth was drawn taut, and the puppy was clambering up her leg.
The moment it finally managed to crawl onto the bed, a waist sash, an overshirt, then trousers and whatnot all landed on its head one after the other, and by the time it managed to crawl its way out from under the clothes, it was looking up at a silver wolf.
"...Myuri, come on—how can I care for...? Myuri...!"
The large wolf pushed me down onto the bed, her nose pressing on me, rubbing her neck too vigorously on my face. Her tail whipped back and forth—where was her pride as a wolf?
I happened to turn my face to the side by chance, and there was the puppy, peering up at us curiously.
"Could you please tell her to stop?"
This wolf, no matter how big she got, would always beg for pets.
"Woof."
The puppy gave a tired bark, sat down, then scratched its neck with one of its short legs.
Silver hairs danced in the air.
This was one scene from a season where the long winter had ended, and the lively spring was just around the corner.
A letter came from the young ones who had left the bathhouse to travel. Though the snow had finally melted in Nyohhira, the mornings and evenings were still chilly, so I was warming myself up at the hearth beside the entrance when one of our regulars, a merchant, delivered it to us.
'Tis almost shedding season, I thought, my ears and tail hidden under my clothes as I accepted the letter. A rather strong scent wafted from it.
"Mm."
I undid the cord that bound the rolled letter, peeled off the wax seal, and looked inside to see little Col's precise writing and Myuri's growing letters on the page. I read it, and I found my mouth drawn up crookedly.
"Heeey, Holo, want me to warm the wine?"
My companion, a tin tankard in hand, peeked his head out from the other room.
"Aye, yes, please."
"Got it...Wait, is that a letter? Is it from Myuri?!"
It had been quite a while since the last message from little Col and our daughter, Myuri, so my companion's eyes widened like he was going to snatch at it.
As an act of kindness, I told him what it said.
"It says that little Col and that fool Myuri held a wedding."
I omitted quite a lot, but it was not a lie.
My fool of a companion, his weakness being his daughter, would certainly be surprised...but then there came the shrill sound of metal and liquid spilling.
"Ahhh! How could you! The wine!"
My companion, who had dropped his tin tankard in his dumbstruck state, stood frozen in place with a vacant expression.
"Myuri...Myuri...!"
"You fool! Little Col simply pretended to be a priest at someone else's wedding, and Myuri acted as the bride's chaperone!"
"Huh? I-is that all? Really?"
Despite how he occasionally showed quick wit and bravery that made even the wisewolf gaze at him in wonderment, he was generally less impressive than a doltish cow.
"What a waste...This is exactly why this fool..."
"Hey, show me the letter. Myuri didn't actually get married, did she?"
"Calm down! Here! Read as you please!"
I shoved the letter at him and went to retrieve the tin tankard that the fool had dropped.
The opening was not all that wide, luckily, so there was still some left on the inside.
I shall have the fool take care of the rest.
"Oh, Lord, you're right—that's what it says...I can't believe you...My heart almost stopped..."
Judging by his state, I wondered what would happen to him if Myuri truly did go off and get married. I was fed up with it, but since I, the wisewolf, was a kind wife, there were some things I did not say aloud to the idiot.
"Huh, it says they got a cooking tool from the southlands that's perfect for grooming, and they'll send it over once they can arrange for its delivery."


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

Input:
It was like gold had come pouring out from a place she had least expected.
"Its size is perfectly suitable for caring for your fur, even when you return to your wolf form. I believe you should be taking good care of yourself in wolf form—your coat is so beautiful, after all—and not just your hair."
Myuri's mouth was drawn taut, and the puppy was clambering up her leg.
The moment it finally managed to crawl onto the bed, a waist sash, an overshirt, then trousers and whatnot all landed on its head one after the other, and by the time it managed to crawl its way out from under the clothes, it was looking up at a silver wolf.
"...Myuri, come on—how can I care for...? Myuri...!"
The large wolf pushed me down onto the bed, her nose pressing on me, rubbing her neck too vigorously on my face. Her tail whipped back and forth—where was her pride as a wolf?
I happened to turn my face to the side by chance, and there was the puppy, peering up at us curiously.
"Could you please tell her to stop?"
This wolf, no matter how big she got, would always beg for pets.
"Woof."
The puppy gave a tired bark, sat down, then scratched its neck with one of its short legs.
Silver hairs danced in the air.
This was one scene from a season where the long winter had ended, and the lively spring was just around the corner.
A letter came from the young ones who had left the bathhouse to travel. Though the snow had finally melted in Nyohhira, the mornings and evenings were still chilly, so I was warming myself up at the hearth beside the entrance when one of our regulars, a merchant, delivered it to us.
'Tis almost shedding season, I thought, my ears and tail hidden under my clothes as I accepted the letter. A rather strong scent wafted from it.
"Mm."
I undid the cord that bound the rolled letter, peeled off the wax seal, and looked inside to see little Col's precise writing and Myuri's growing letters on the page. I read it, and I found my mouth drawn up crookedly.
"Heeey, Holo, want me to warm the wine?"
My companion, a tin tankard in hand, peeked his head out from the other room.
"Aye, yes, please."
"Got it...Wait, is that a letter? Is it from Myuri?!"
It had been quite a while since the last message from little Col and our daughter, Myuri, so my companion's eyes widened like he was going to snatch at it.
As an act of kindness, I told him what it said.
"It says that little Col and that fool Myuri held a wedding."
I omitted quite a lot, but it was not a lie.
My fool of a companion, his weakness being his daughter, would certainly be surprised...but then there came the shrill sound of metal and liquid spilling.
"Ahhh! How could you! The wine!"
My companion, who had dropped his tin tankard in his dumbstruck state, stood frozen in place with a vacant expression.
"Myuri...Myuri...!"
"You fool! Little Col simply pretended to be a priest at someone else's wedding, and Myuri acted as the bride's chaperone!"
"Huh? I-is that all? Really?"
Despite how he occasionally showed quick wit and bravery that made even the wisewolf gaze at him in wonderment, he was generally less impressive than a doltish cow.
"What a waste...This is exactly why this fool..."
"Hey, show me the letter. Myuri didn't actually get married, did she?"
"Calm down! Here! Read as you please!"
I shoved the letter at him and went to retrieve the tin tankard that the fool had dropped.
The opening was not all that wide, luckily, so there was still some left on the inside.
I shall have the fool take care of the rest.
"Oh, Lord, you're right—that's what it says...I can't believe you...My heart almost stopped..."
Judging by his state, I wondered what would happen to him if Myuri truly did go off and get married. I was fed up with it, but since I, the wisewolf, was a kind wife, there were some things I did not say aloud to the idiot.
"Huh, it says they got a cooking tool from the southlands that's perfect for grooming, and they'll send it over once they can arrange for its delivery."

Output:
It was an intimate scent, one that made it almost foolish to ask anything about any wedding.
As a human, my foolish companion had no way of noticing the scent, and I wished he would thank me for the kindness I showed by not telling him of the approaching storm clouds.
"Hmm, what is it?"
"What is what?" I smiled in turn and came to stand by his side. "A grooming tool. 'Tis almost time for shedding season now. I will need you to maintain my coat."
"Yeah, I know. I ordered plenty of brushes for you already."
Though he said that with a sigh, it was aggravating how he was actually looking forward to it.
"You will be gentle, yes?"
My companion shrugged, then smiled and began to clean up the spilled wine. With no choice, I helped him. A fun playmate like this would be wasted on the young Myuri. The yet-inexperienced little Col was just right for that little fool.
"What is it?"
My companion noticed my gaze, a curious look on his face.
With a tickled smile, I said, "'Tis nothing."
The long winter was about to end.
I told myself that the fuzzy feeling I held in my heart was surely because of the season.
On the other hand, however, I could not truthfully say I was not the least bit envious of the young duo's journey.
Journey.
A journey, hmm?
"Hmm," I murmured to myself, smiling wryly. "Though I doubt we will be journeying anymore."
I ran my hand through my tail's winter coat, and for just a brief moment, it swelled in a sort of anticipation.
But there was no end to the seeds of ups and downs in the world.
It would only be a short time from now I would learn that even the wisewolf's predictions can be unreliable.
***
This is Isuna Hasekura. It has been quite a while. We are now on the fifth volume of the Spring Log series. While I am surprised that it has continued for this long, it has already been an entire three and a half years since my tenth-anniversary event, and in terms of the Spice and Wolf main story, that is about as long as from the debut first novel to the end of the airing of the second anime season. In terms of the number of volumes, that is from the first volume to the thirteenth! I believe those who have been following this series from the very beginning would sort of understand what kind of shock I am in right now. We have grown old...And by the way, the time from my debut to the end of the second anime season, in my perspective, was a time filled with events that could have lasted me two-thirds of my life, so it seems strange that it was only three and a half years.
On the other hand, there have thankfully been all sorts of developments for Spice and Wolf itself, like the continual releasing of new goods or how Holo's 3D model was distributed in a Dengeki Bunko online event just recently.
At this point, I do sometimes feel ambitious for such a long-lived title, like I might publish a new volume when it comes time for the twentieth anniversary, but I will do what I can at my own pace, so I hope you will stick around.
While we're at it, a second edition of Spice and Wolf VR, where you can meet Holo and pet her ears and tail, has been confirmed, and we are diligently working on it even as I write this. The next story will be one that takes place in the Nyohhira bathhouse, so perhaps there will be some new characters! Please look forward to that!
There have been no developments particularly worth mentioning in my life, but if I were to pick one, it would be that I have been playing the mobile version of Ragnarok Online, and from the very first day I was playing with the same guild members from so long ago, acting under the same guild name. And for the first month or so, it was just like old times, but all of a sudden, everyone was gone. And now I just play a little bit by myself—oh, I should stop talking about this. I'm sad.


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

Input:
It was an intimate scent, one that made it almost foolish to ask anything about any wedding.
As a human, my foolish companion had no way of noticing the scent, and I wished he would thank me for the kindness I showed by not telling him of the approaching storm clouds.
"Hmm, what is it?"
"What is what?" I smiled in turn and came to stand by his side. "A grooming tool. 'Tis almost time for shedding season now. I will need you to maintain my coat."
"Yeah, I know. I ordered plenty of brushes for you already."
Though he said that with a sigh, it was aggravating how he was actually looking forward to it.
"You will be gentle, yes?"
My companion shrugged, then smiled and began to clean up the spilled wine. With no choice, I helped him. A fun playmate like this would be wasted on the young Myuri. The yet-inexperienced little Col was just right for that little fool.
"What is it?"
My companion noticed my gaze, a curious look on his face.
With a tickled smile, I said, "'Tis nothing."
The long winter was about to end.
I told myself that the fuzzy feeling I held in my heart was surely because of the season.
On the other hand, however, I could not truthfully say I was not the least bit envious of the young duo's journey.
Journey.
A journey, hmm?
"Hmm," I murmured to myself, smiling wryly. "Though I doubt we will be journeying anymore."
I ran my hand through my tail's winter coat, and for just a brief moment, it swelled in a sort of anticipation.
But there was no end to the seeds of ups and downs in the world.
It would only be a short time from now I would learn that even the wisewolf's predictions can be unreliable.
***
This is Isuna Hasekura. It has been quite a while. We are now on the fifth volume of the Spring Log series. While I am surprised that it has continued for this long, it has already been an entire three and a half years since my tenth-anniversary event, and in terms of the Spice and Wolf main story, that is about as long as from the debut first novel to the end of the airing of the second anime season. In terms of the number of volumes, that is from the first volume to the thirteenth! I believe those who have been following this series from the very beginning would sort of understand what kind of shock I am in right now. We have grown old...And by the way, the time from my debut to the end of the second anime season, in my perspective, was a time filled with events that could have lasted me two-thirds of my life, so it seems strange that it was only three and a half years.
On the other hand, there have thankfully been all sorts of developments for Spice and Wolf itself, like the continual releasing of new goods or how Holo's 3D model was distributed in a Dengeki Bunko online event just recently.
At this point, I do sometimes feel ambitious for such a long-lived title, like I might publish a new volume when it comes time for the twentieth anniversary, but I will do what I can at my own pace, so I hope you will stick around.
While we're at it, a second edition of Spice and Wolf VR, where you can meet Holo and pet her ears and tail, has been confirmed, and we are diligently working on it even as I write this. The next story will be one that takes place in the Nyohhira bathhouse, so perhaps there will be some new characters! Please look forward to that!
There have been no developments particularly worth mentioning in my life, but if I were to pick one, it would be that I have been playing the mobile version of Ragnarok Online, and from the very first day I was playing with the same guild members from so long ago, acting under the same guild name. And for the first month or so, it was just like old times, but all of a sudden, everyone was gone. And now I just play a little bit by myself—oh, I should stop talking about this. I'm sad.

Output:
I believe the next volume should be Wolf and Parchment, and I hope you will pick that one up as well!
Isuna Hasekura
Download all your Fav Light Novels from Just Light Novels
***
If one were to take the form of a bird and fly over Salonia, it would look as though clusters of mushrooms were growing atop a gold-and-brown carpet. The town thrived on inland trade, and that was the sort of place it was.
It was once a vacant piece of land, used only by local farming villages for bartering produce, but that changed when a wandering priest appeared one day and built a hermitage on the spot. For the first time the area had a place of worship, so locals visited more frequently, which in turn drew the business of merchants, which then caused walls to be built, inns to open, and roads to be paved. And so, a town was born.
Salonia was known for its biannual market; the market this autumn was quite exciting, as it typically was.
Though successful at a glance, the truth was that the foundations of the market had been struggling beneath a weighty problem, a result of which caused several individuals to find themselves tossed in jail.
As the townsfolk bemoaned their concerns, a few travelers who had come to town conjured up a solution to the problem. The solution was so close to magic that it ended up recorded in the town annals.
As trouble settled on the hearts of the people of Salonia, a strange traveling couple came to town...was how that particular record began.
The husband claimed to be an ordinary retired traveling merchant, but before arriving in Salonia he had solved a mystery involving a place that was considered a cursed mountain and sold it to the Debau Company for a high price. This sharp retired merchant had erased the debts plaguing the people of the town without using a single coin.
Though possessed of an exceedingly rare sense of judgment, he always deferred to his young wife, and the people of Salonia often saw how tight a hold she had on him.
It was not long after that the townsfolk began to whisper among themselves—perhaps his mercantile prowess was owed to his wife. The rumors likely stemmed from the strangely domineering aura she possessed, despite her young looks.
The girl had flaxen hair, reddish-amber eyes, spoke like people of ages past, and was crafty yet sweet.
She was a fantastic drinker, besting every man in town who came to challenge her, so of course the former merchant in question was no match for her, either.
The pair had come to town at the beginning of autumn, and once they had made a vivid show of solving Salonia's problem, they enjoyed their stay in town. May God watch over them...
Once she finished reading the draft of the town's annals, Holo's nostrils flared with pride.
Lawrence, who had sat beside her reading the same text, could not help but speak up with a strained smile.
"Why did they write more of you than me?"
"I am Holo the Wisewolf. The author knows well."
Despite appearing to be an ordinary young woman, the truth was that Holo sported pointed wolf ears on her head and a fluffy tail growing from her backside—she was a wolf spirit, several centuries old.
She had once been regarded as a deity, and an average bathhouse owner such as Lawrence could hardly compare; her pride was only natural.
Holo had come to enjoy recording her day-to-day in a diary, but there was a considerable difference between what she wrote down herself and what others wrote.
"Can we not have a painting made of this?"
She had gotten a taste of that luxury with the mural in the port town of Atiph.
"No painting can fully convey your beauty," Lawrence replied.
Holo was delighted at first, but she pouted at him when she realized he had tricked her.
They stared at each other in silence, but before long, both broke out into smiles.
"Why don't we grab something to eat when we go turn this draft back in?"
"Aye, I do crave fish every once in a while."
She had also gotten a taste for fresh fish in Atiph.


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

Input:
I believe the next volume should be Wolf and Parchment, and I hope you will pick that one up as well!
Isuna Hasekura
Download all your Fav Light Novels from Just Light Novels
***
If one were to take the form of a bird and fly over Salonia, it would look as though clusters of mushrooms were growing atop a gold-and-brown carpet. The town thrived on inland trade, and that was the sort of place it was.
It was once a vacant piece of land, used only by local farming villages for bartering produce, but that changed when a wandering priest appeared one day and built a hermitage on the spot. For the first time the area had a place of worship, so locals visited more frequently, which in turn drew the business of merchants, which then caused walls to be built, inns to open, and roads to be paved. And so, a town was born.
Salonia was known for its biannual market; the market this autumn was quite exciting, as it typically was.
Though successful at a glance, the truth was that the foundations of the market had been struggling beneath a weighty problem, a result of which caused several individuals to find themselves tossed in jail.
As the townsfolk bemoaned their concerns, a few travelers who had come to town conjured up a solution to the problem. The solution was so close to magic that it ended up recorded in the town annals.
As trouble settled on the hearts of the people of Salonia, a strange traveling couple came to town...was how that particular record began.
The husband claimed to be an ordinary retired traveling merchant, but before arriving in Salonia he had solved a mystery involving a place that was considered a cursed mountain and sold it to the Debau Company for a high price. This sharp retired merchant had erased the debts plaguing the people of the town without using a single coin.
Though possessed of an exceedingly rare sense of judgment, he always deferred to his young wife, and the people of Salonia often saw how tight a hold she had on him.
It was not long after that the townsfolk began to whisper among themselves—perhaps his mercantile prowess was owed to his wife. The rumors likely stemmed from the strangely domineering aura she possessed, despite her young looks.
The girl had flaxen hair, reddish-amber eyes, spoke like people of ages past, and was crafty yet sweet.
She was a fantastic drinker, besting every man in town who came to challenge her, so of course the former merchant in question was no match for her, either.
The pair had come to town at the beginning of autumn, and once they had made a vivid show of solving Salonia's problem, they enjoyed their stay in town. May God watch over them...
Once she finished reading the draft of the town's annals, Holo's nostrils flared with pride.
Lawrence, who had sat beside her reading the same text, could not help but speak up with a strained smile.
"Why did they write more of you than me?"
"I am Holo the Wisewolf. The author knows well."
Despite appearing to be an ordinary young woman, the truth was that Holo sported pointed wolf ears on her head and a fluffy tail growing from her backside—she was a wolf spirit, several centuries old.
She had once been regarded as a deity, and an average bathhouse owner such as Lawrence could hardly compare; her pride was only natural.
Holo had come to enjoy recording her day-to-day in a diary, but there was a considerable difference between what she wrote down herself and what others wrote.
"Can we not have a painting made of this?"
She had gotten a taste of that luxury with the mural in the port town of Atiph.
"No painting can fully convey your beauty," Lawrence replied.
Holo was delighted at first, but she pouted at him when she realized he had tricked her.
They stared at each other in silence, but before long, both broke out into smiles.
"Why don't we grab something to eat when we go turn this draft back in?"
"Aye, I do crave fish every once in a while."
She had also gotten a taste for fresh fish in Atiph.

Output:
He grasped her hand, and she beamed at him.
How could he resist when she smiled at him like that?
Lawrence laughed to himself—the annals were right after all. They left their room at the inn together.
As Lawrence and Holo made their way to the church to return the draft, they found a crowd of people pouring from the building; noon mass had just ended. Several merchants noted Lawrence's presence and tipped their hats in greeting. He felt a bit embarrassed having become such a celebrity, but Holo, on the other hand, was eating it up.
It was almost as though she was saying that she was the one who had made him.
"Oh, Mister Lawrence."
"Hello, Miss Elsa."
When the pair stepped inside the church, they came across a priestess with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun, carrying a heavy stack of scripture.
She was an old acquaintance he had encountered not long after meeting Holo, on the road in search of Holo's home.
Not only that, but Elsa had officiated their wedding as well; that, combined with her shrewd personality, made her the number two person who Lawrence would listen to without question—number one being Holo, of course.
"We've come to return the draft. It was a little embarrassing reading all of that."
"That simply means you did a fine job. I can still scarcely believe you pulled it off."
Lawrence had freed people from their debt without a single piece of silver changing hands. It sounded like magic when put that way, but when it came down to it, solving the underlying issue had not been all that outlandish.
Lawrence handed over the sheaf of papers, and Elsa accepted it with great care, as though there were still secrets hidden inside.
"The aftermath was the greater headache for you, wasn't it, Miss Elsa?"
Once word spread about the way Lawrence erased debt, naturally, others began to wonder if they could do the same with their own debt. But debt was a questionable topic, and since the job entailed undoing the chain that linked everyone together, that meant the Salonia church sat at the center of it all. It was at this stage that Elsa had been called on to take charge—she was not only good with writing and numbers, but the strength of her faith was beyond doubt.
"Resolved in three days with much enthusiasm. It was not that big of a problem."
Her clear honey-colored eyes made it obvious she was not saying that just to make him, or herself, feel better.
Lawrence bowed his head, impressed, when Elsa spoke up again.
"That reminds me," she said. "A carriage brought in something rather interesting this morning. I was hoping to give it to the both of you."
What she said caught the attention of Holo, who had been mid-yawn. Elsa handed them a booklet she had been carrying with her hefty scriptures.
"Selected passages from the Twilight Cardinal's vernacular translation of the scripture. I think it has been wonderfully translated."
There was an uncharacteristic teasing tone to the way she said Twilight Cardinal.
And the reason she had called the booklet "interesting" was not because she was a devout priestess.
The person who immediately came to mind was a young man whom Lawrence knew well: Col. The "Twilight Cardinal" was the title the world knew him by.
Elsa was one of Col's teachers—she had instilled in him the habit of saying grace at meals when he was a child. She must have found it so strange and touching that the little boy had grown up to do such great things.
Lawrence was no less proud to see that the little boy he happened to take in on his journey had grown up to be such a renowned individual. He was even slightly jealous.
As he took the booklet, enjoying the comings and goings of all the different emotions inside him, Holo stuck her face closer to the book and gave it a sniff.
"What? 'Tis not a letter from them?"


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

Input:
He grasped her hand, and she beamed at him.
How could he resist when she smiled at him like that?
Lawrence laughed to himself—the annals were right after all. They left their room at the inn together.
As Lawrence and Holo made their way to the church to return the draft, they found a crowd of people pouring from the building; noon mass had just ended. Several merchants noted Lawrence's presence and tipped their hats in greeting. He felt a bit embarrassed having become such a celebrity, but Holo, on the other hand, was eating it up.
It was almost as though she was saying that she was the one who had made him.
"Oh, Mister Lawrence."
"Hello, Miss Elsa."
When the pair stepped inside the church, they came across a priestess with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun, carrying a heavy stack of scripture.
She was an old acquaintance he had encountered not long after meeting Holo, on the road in search of Holo's home.
Not only that, but Elsa had officiated their wedding as well; that, combined with her shrewd personality, made her the number two person who Lawrence would listen to without question—number one being Holo, of course.
"We've come to return the draft. It was a little embarrassing reading all of that."
"That simply means you did a fine job. I can still scarcely believe you pulled it off."
Lawrence had freed people from their debt without a single piece of silver changing hands. It sounded like magic when put that way, but when it came down to it, solving the underlying issue had not been all that outlandish.
Lawrence handed over the sheaf of papers, and Elsa accepted it with great care, as though there were still secrets hidden inside.
"The aftermath was the greater headache for you, wasn't it, Miss Elsa?"
Once word spread about the way Lawrence erased debt, naturally, others began to wonder if they could do the same with their own debt. But debt was a questionable topic, and since the job entailed undoing the chain that linked everyone together, that meant the Salonia church sat at the center of it all. It was at this stage that Elsa had been called on to take charge—she was not only good with writing and numbers, but the strength of her faith was beyond doubt.
"Resolved in three days with much enthusiasm. It was not that big of a problem."
Her clear honey-colored eyes made it obvious she was not saying that just to make him, or herself, feel better.
Lawrence bowed his head, impressed, when Elsa spoke up again.
"That reminds me," she said. "A carriage brought in something rather interesting this morning. I was hoping to give it to the both of you."
What she said caught the attention of Holo, who had been mid-yawn. Elsa handed them a booklet she had been carrying with her hefty scriptures.
"Selected passages from the Twilight Cardinal's vernacular translation of the scripture. I think it has been wonderfully translated."
There was an uncharacteristic teasing tone to the way she said Twilight Cardinal.
And the reason she had called the booklet "interesting" was not because she was a devout priestess.
The person who immediately came to mind was a young man whom Lawrence knew well: Col. The "Twilight Cardinal" was the title the world knew him by.
Elsa was one of Col's teachers—she had instilled in him the habit of saying grace at meals when he was a child. She must have found it so strange and touching that the little boy had grown up to do such great things.
Lawrence was no less proud to see that the little boy he happened to take in on his journey had grown up to be such a renowned individual. He was even slightly jealous.
As he took the booklet, enjoying the comings and goings of all the different emotions inside him, Holo stuck her face closer to the book and gave it a sniff.
"What? 'Tis not a letter from them?"

Output:
Col had left the hot spring village of Nyohhira to pursue his dream of becoming a man of the cloth.
It did not take long for him to throw himself into an adventure that would make such waves throughout the world, and Lawrence was as concerned as ever about where the boy was and what he was doing in that moment.
"No news is good news," Holo declared. "And to hold such a thing in our hands means he is once again holing himself up in his room, munching on onions to stave off drowsiness."
She took the booklet, shaking it, making the pages flap.
"Can you not imagine the little fool sitting beside him, utter boredom on her face?"
When a mischievous smile crossed Holo's face, Lawrence pursed his lips.
As she watched, Elsa commented with a smile, "Some refer to her as Saint Myuri. Constantly smiling, merciful as the sun."
When he heard that, Lawrence was not sure if he should smile or sigh.
The biggest reason he wanted to know where they were and what they were up to was not only because Col was like a son to him, but more so that his only daughter, Myuri, had latched onto him and followed him when he departed.
Letters had occasionally trickled in after they left, but soon they arrived less and less frequently, and had now come to a complete stop. His worry that something had happened to them had only grown.
First, there was the fear that trouble had befallen them somewhere along their journey.
There was also the matter that while Col and Myuri were not related by blood, they were still ostensibly brother and sister. Lawrence often wondered if something had changed in their relationship.
"That little fool never knows when to give up."
"I have three boys, but if you told me that one of them was going to live with his wife in a city far away, I would certainly be sad."
"Indeed. Though one could easily visit or ask him to send all the delicious delicacies his new home has to offer."
"That is also true."
Views between the serious and honest Elsa and the old, crude Holo often clashed, but it was on these topics that they saw eye to eye.
"Come now, husband. Get it together. We have a job to do—namely getting ready for the festival that concludes the market."
Holo whacked Lawrence on the back with the booklet.
"What? You just want to drink."
"Fool. No one in this town can drink more than I can. The responsibility of choosing what drinks will be served at the festival obviously falls to me."
Even Elsa, who would typically interject with words about moderation in times like these, refrained from saying anything; this particular instance of drinking was an actual job, after all.
"We argue every year over which granary to choose, so having Miss Holo choose for us this year should be a great help."
"See?"
Holo lifted her chin in pride, and both Lawrence and Elsa sighed.
"This isn't just your everyday wine. This is distilled barley liquor. Don't drink too much."
"You fool. When have I ever told you I have had too much to drink?"
Considering how she could proclaim such a thing loudly in a church meant that no scolding from Lawrence or Elsa would reach her ears.
"What snacks would go well with it, I wonder? Jerky, perhaps—cured with smoke strong enough to make one choke... Or honeyed candies? I find those rather irresistible."
Lawrence could tell she was in high spirits when he saw how her tail swished beneath her clothes.
"Dear?"
"I know, I know. We'll see you later, Miss Elsa."
"Yes, take care."
A somewhat exasperated, yet envious smile crossed Elsa's face as Holo dragged Lawrence away.
Several hours later, Lawrence carried a pleasantly drunk Holo on his back as they returned to the inn.
When Salonia's spring and autumn markets open, merchants come from all over—not just the immediate surrounding area.
The end of the autumn market was always marked with a festival that gives thanks for the harvest and prays for a good crop the following year.


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

Input:
Col had left the hot spring village of Nyohhira to pursue his dream of becoming a man of the cloth.
It did not take long for him to throw himself into an adventure that would make such waves throughout the world, and Lawrence was as concerned as ever about where the boy was and what he was doing in that moment.
"No news is good news," Holo declared. "And to hold such a thing in our hands means he is once again holing himself up in his room, munching on onions to stave off drowsiness."
She took the booklet, shaking it, making the pages flap.
"Can you not imagine the little fool sitting beside him, utter boredom on her face?"
When a mischievous smile crossed Holo's face, Lawrence pursed his lips.
As she watched, Elsa commented with a smile, "Some refer to her as Saint Myuri. Constantly smiling, merciful as the sun."
When he heard that, Lawrence was not sure if he should smile or sigh.
The biggest reason he wanted to know where they were and what they were up to was not only because Col was like a son to him, but more so that his only daughter, Myuri, had latched onto him and followed him when he departed.
Letters had occasionally trickled in after they left, but soon they arrived less and less frequently, and had now come to a complete stop. His worry that something had happened to them had only grown.
First, there was the fear that trouble had befallen them somewhere along their journey.
There was also the matter that while Col and Myuri were not related by blood, they were still ostensibly brother and sister. Lawrence often wondered if something had changed in their relationship.
"That little fool never knows when to give up."
"I have three boys, but if you told me that one of them was going to live with his wife in a city far away, I would certainly be sad."
"Indeed. Though one could easily visit or ask him to send all the delicious delicacies his new home has to offer."
"That is also true."
Views between the serious and honest Elsa and the old, crude Holo often clashed, but it was on these topics that they saw eye to eye.
"Come now, husband. Get it together. We have a job to do—namely getting ready for the festival that concludes the market."
Holo whacked Lawrence on the back with the booklet.
"What? You just want to drink."
"Fool. No one in this town can drink more than I can. The responsibility of choosing what drinks will be served at the festival obviously falls to me."
Even Elsa, who would typically interject with words about moderation in times like these, refrained from saying anything; this particular instance of drinking was an actual job, after all.
"We argue every year over which granary to choose, so having Miss Holo choose for us this year should be a great help."
"See?"
Holo lifted her chin in pride, and both Lawrence and Elsa sighed.
"This isn't just your everyday wine. This is distilled barley liquor. Don't drink too much."
"You fool. When have I ever told you I have had too much to drink?"
Considering how she could proclaim such a thing loudly in a church meant that no scolding from Lawrence or Elsa would reach her ears.
"What snacks would go well with it, I wonder? Jerky, perhaps—cured with smoke strong enough to make one choke... Or honeyed candies? I find those rather irresistible."
Lawrence could tell she was in high spirits when he saw how her tail swished beneath her clothes.
"Dear?"
"I know, I know. We'll see you later, Miss Elsa."
"Yes, take care."
A somewhat exasperated, yet envious smile crossed Elsa's face as Holo dragged Lawrence away.
Several hours later, Lawrence carried a pleasantly drunk Holo on his back as they returned to the inn.
When Salonia's spring and autumn markets open, merchants come from all over—not just the immediate surrounding area.
The end of the autumn market was always marked with a festival that gives thanks for the harvest and prays for a good crop the following year.

Output:
His hurried travels only slowed once he started traveling with Holo.
It was then that he started to appreciate the scenery, to truly realize how the air smelled for the first time.
The festival preparations were much the same; he only understood that this was the most exciting time for the townsfolk when Holo grabbed his hand.
"This is a good place; they have all sorts of grain here."
Holo, whose hangover had finally subsided come nightfall, spoke as she sat at one of the tables outside their inn, nursing a cup of alcohol despite the previous day's activities.
That said, she slowly sipped at it like it was a watered-down cider, so perhaps she was not totally oblivious to the lessons learned here.
"Business went well for me. I guess the townsfolk feel much lighter without any of that debt weighing them down."
"Mm. And you sold all that fetid nonsense in the back of the cart?"
Lawrence had to use his fame somehow now that he had made something of a name for himself in town. He had managed to sell half of the mountain of sulfur powder he had brought with them when they left Nyohhira. He even thought he might be able to sell a bit more, considering how the townsfolk, in their debt-free joy, were talking about making impromptu hot springs by digging holes and filling them with hot water.
"I've no complaints, then," Holo said, comfortably closing her eyes, allowing the cool evening breeze play with her bangs.
There was still time before the sun completely set, but the town did not go to sleep in the evening when the festival loomed near. As Lawrence sat hoping that Holo, who had spent most of her day napping, would not drink too much today, the innkeeper brought them food and warm soup.
"Ah, yes, there is nothing better than this after having a bit too much to drink," she said, eagerly slurping the mushrooms and vegetables that had been boiled with the broth. "But I do have one regret."
"Hmm?"
Holo set down her bowl of soup, instead picking up a slender, seared sardine and biting into its head.
"At least 'tis not herring. I heard that this town would typically have a rich selection of river fish to choose from."
Herring was so abundant in the ocean that it was said a person could stab a sword into the water and pull it out skewered with the fish; one could always find it on the dinner tables of houses far inland. Not only that, it was cheap—and so it became a staple during the winter, and even those who were not as picky with food as Holo often detested it.
In contrast, fish from rivers so dark one could scarcely see any at all were often far away from the sea and the salt needed to preserve said fish, so they never went far. Good, local river fish could only be eaten in those specific places.
"I took a look at the river by the town, but it didn't seem like there were a whole lot of fish in there. And you know what they say—the two things that will always find you away from the seashores are the moon and herring. But this is a sardine anyway."
Lawrence bit into the fish, and a delightful bitterness filled his mouth.
He would have preferred it seared just a little more, but Holo drew up her shoulders.
"Look, you see the hazy mountain in the distance? From our room at the inn?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah."
As Lawrence reached out for his third sardine, wanting more of that bitterness in his mouth, Holo smacked his hand away.
"'Tis not the way we came into town, and I hear there is a mythical pond tucked away there."
"Mythical?" Lawrence repeated, not paying too much mind as he spoke; he lifted and waved in the air the plate that once housed the sardines at the innkeeper.
"They say the most delicious trout lives there, but there is not a single one in stock in any of the stores this year, of all years."
"Huh."
Being the bathhouse owner that he was, Lawrence began to think of a meal he could serve with trout—it tasted great wrapped in a large tree leaf and fried with mushrooms and plenty of butter.


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

Input:
His hurried travels only slowed once he started traveling with Holo.
It was then that he started to appreciate the scenery, to truly realize how the air smelled for the first time.
The festival preparations were much the same; he only understood that this was the most exciting time for the townsfolk when Holo grabbed his hand.
"This is a good place; they have all sorts of grain here."
Holo, whose hangover had finally subsided come nightfall, spoke as she sat at one of the tables outside their inn, nursing a cup of alcohol despite the previous day's activities.
That said, she slowly sipped at it like it was a watered-down cider, so perhaps she was not totally oblivious to the lessons learned here.
"Business went well for me. I guess the townsfolk feel much lighter without any of that debt weighing them down."
"Mm. And you sold all that fetid nonsense in the back of the cart?"
Lawrence had to use his fame somehow now that he had made something of a name for himself in town. He had managed to sell half of the mountain of sulfur powder he had brought with them when they left Nyohhira. He even thought he might be able to sell a bit more, considering how the townsfolk, in their debt-free joy, were talking about making impromptu hot springs by digging holes and filling them with hot water.
"I've no complaints, then," Holo said, comfortably closing her eyes, allowing the cool evening breeze play with her bangs.
There was still time before the sun completely set, but the town did not go to sleep in the evening when the festival loomed near. As Lawrence sat hoping that Holo, who had spent most of her day napping, would not drink too much today, the innkeeper brought them food and warm soup.
"Ah, yes, there is nothing better than this after having a bit too much to drink," she said, eagerly slurping the mushrooms and vegetables that had been boiled with the broth. "But I do have one regret."
"Hmm?"
Holo set down her bowl of soup, instead picking up a slender, seared sardine and biting into its head.
"At least 'tis not herring. I heard that this town would typically have a rich selection of river fish to choose from."
Herring was so abundant in the ocean that it was said a person could stab a sword into the water and pull it out skewered with the fish; one could always find it on the dinner tables of houses far inland. Not only that, it was cheap—and so it became a staple during the winter, and even those who were not as picky with food as Holo often detested it.
In contrast, fish from rivers so dark one could scarcely see any at all were often far away from the sea and the salt needed to preserve said fish, so they never went far. Good, local river fish could only be eaten in those specific places.
"I took a look at the river by the town, but it didn't seem like there were a whole lot of fish in there. And you know what they say—the two things that will always find you away from the seashores are the moon and herring. But this is a sardine anyway."
Lawrence bit into the fish, and a delightful bitterness filled his mouth.
He would have preferred it seared just a little more, but Holo drew up her shoulders.
"Look, you see the hazy mountain in the distance? From our room at the inn?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah."
As Lawrence reached out for his third sardine, wanting more of that bitterness in his mouth, Holo smacked his hand away.
"'Tis not the way we came into town, and I hear there is a mythical pond tucked away there."
"Mythical?" Lawrence repeated, not paying too much mind as he spoke; he lifted and waved in the air the plate that once housed the sardines at the innkeeper.
"They say the most delicious trout lives there, but there is not a single one in stock in any of the stores this year, of all years."
"Huh."
Being the bathhouse owner that he was, Lawrence began to think of a meal he could serve with trout—it tasted great wrapped in a large tree leaf and fried with mushrooms and plenty of butter.

Output:
"Rearing fish in a pond, huh? It's not like making a preserve in a river at all; it's much more difficult. They say everyone in Nyohhira's tried it a few times before, but it's never gone well."
"And that is why all we eat is herring and sardines."
Despite her complaints, Holo greedily munched on the sardines that Lawrence had gotten for himself.
A plump trout, of course, went well with a mug of ale.
And as a former businessman, Lawrence did have some thoughts on the matter.
"That must feel pretty bad. They must have been raising them specifically for the festival season."
A mountain fishpond was surely a precious source of income to the locals. They might hesitate in putting even more fish in the pond after a disease had wiped the previous lot out, and he could easily foresee their troubles continuing.
As those thoughts crossed his mind, Holo's eyes darted away, as though her gaze had been drawn elsewhere. Lawrence followed her eyes to find Elsa, giving them a small wave.
"What does she want?"
Holo's question was thorny because she knew that once Elsa joined them at the dinner table, the woman's scolding and lectures would accompany her.
Maybe Elsa had caught wind that Holo had ultimately knocked herself out drinking after selecting the alcohol that would be served at the festival.
"As a devout servant of God, it is ever my duty to preach moderation to you," Elsa began, exasperation coloring her voice, as she turned her attention to Lawrence. "But my business today is with Mister Lawrence. I have a request to ask of you."
"Of me?" he asked.
At that moment, the innkeeper brought out more seared sardines; Holo reached out not only to grab the freshly-seared sardines, but also to grab the scruff of Lawrence's neck.
"These are mine. I will need some collateral because you will be working too hard."
The same thing had been written in the annals, so Lawrence would not protest. He drew himself inward, just like the sardines that Holo was mercilessly decapitating with her teeth.
"You will need to provide some collateral, too." Elsa turned to Holo.
"Hmm?"
"Wouldn't you like to eat some delicious trout?"
Speak of the devil.
Lawrence and Holo exchanged glances before listening to what Elsa had to say.
The mountain Holo saw from the inn window was, reportedly, part of territory called the Rahden Bishopric.
It was nowhere near as vast as the Vallan Bishopric, where the pair had solved the mystery of the cursed mountain with Elsa; all it had was one small village. This remote, mountain hamlet was unusual for the area in that it ran a river-fish nursery. Their fattened trout were especially well-received, and they were considered a delicacy in Salonia, since all the townsfolk could fish from their muddy nearby river were carp. Disease had plagued the nursery for several years now, and it had been particularly bad this year—every fish had perished. Their only choice was to wait until the pond water was rejuvenated, and it would be a long time before the trout would grace Salonia's dinner tables once again.
When Elsa finished her explanation, Lawrence guessed that she would next ask them to use their mercantile prowess to save them from the tough situation.
But with their main industry gone, it would be difficult to find something else to replace it and put money in their pockets and food on their tables. Lawrence could establish a trade empire if he could solve something like that in the blink of an eye. As those thoughts crossed his mind, he found that what Elsa had to ask of him was somewhat similar to what he was expecting, but entirely different at the same time.
"You want me to find a way to get them a loan?"
The villagers were likely troubled by the loss of their main industry, so a loan was logical.
"Would you like me to speak to a company somewhere? I'm not sure if I could..."


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

Input:
"Rearing fish in a pond, huh? It's not like making a preserve in a river at all; it's much more difficult. They say everyone in Nyohhira's tried it a few times before, but it's never gone well."
"And that is why all we eat is herring and sardines."
Despite her complaints, Holo greedily munched on the sardines that Lawrence had gotten for himself.
A plump trout, of course, went well with a mug of ale.
And as a former businessman, Lawrence did have some thoughts on the matter.
"That must feel pretty bad. They must have been raising them specifically for the festival season."
A mountain fishpond was surely a precious source of income to the locals. They might hesitate in putting even more fish in the pond after a disease had wiped the previous lot out, and he could easily foresee their troubles continuing.
As those thoughts crossed his mind, Holo's eyes darted away, as though her gaze had been drawn elsewhere. Lawrence followed her eyes to find Elsa, giving them a small wave.
"What does she want?"
Holo's question was thorny because she knew that once Elsa joined them at the dinner table, the woman's scolding and lectures would accompany her.
Maybe Elsa had caught wind that Holo had ultimately knocked herself out drinking after selecting the alcohol that would be served at the festival.
"As a devout servant of God, it is ever my duty to preach moderation to you," Elsa began, exasperation coloring her voice, as she turned her attention to Lawrence. "But my business today is with Mister Lawrence. I have a request to ask of you."
"Of me?" he asked.
At that moment, the innkeeper brought out more seared sardines; Holo reached out not only to grab the freshly-seared sardines, but also to grab the scruff of Lawrence's neck.
"These are mine. I will need some collateral because you will be working too hard."
The same thing had been written in the annals, so Lawrence would not protest. He drew himself inward, just like the sardines that Holo was mercilessly decapitating with her teeth.
"You will need to provide some collateral, too." Elsa turned to Holo.
"Hmm?"
"Wouldn't you like to eat some delicious trout?"
Speak of the devil.
Lawrence and Holo exchanged glances before listening to what Elsa had to say.
The mountain Holo saw from the inn window was, reportedly, part of territory called the Rahden Bishopric.
It was nowhere near as vast as the Vallan Bishopric, where the pair had solved the mystery of the cursed mountain with Elsa; all it had was one small village. This remote, mountain hamlet was unusual for the area in that it ran a river-fish nursery. Their fattened trout were especially well-received, and they were considered a delicacy in Salonia, since all the townsfolk could fish from their muddy nearby river were carp. Disease had plagued the nursery for several years now, and it had been particularly bad this year—every fish had perished. Their only choice was to wait until the pond water was rejuvenated, and it would be a long time before the trout would grace Salonia's dinner tables once again.
When Elsa finished her explanation, Lawrence guessed that she would next ask them to use their mercantile prowess to save them from the tough situation.
But with their main industry gone, it would be difficult to find something else to replace it and put money in their pockets and food on their tables. Lawrence could establish a trade empire if he could solve something like that in the blink of an eye. As those thoughts crossed his mind, he found that what Elsa had to ask of him was somewhat similar to what he was expecting, but entirely different at the same time.
"You want me to find a way to get them a loan?"
The villagers were likely troubled by the loss of their main industry, so a loan was logical.
"Would you like me to speak to a company somewhere? I'm not sure if I could..."

Output:
As Lawrence considered how he had just untangled said web, Elsa shook her head.
"Not at all. Companies have already turned the village down, and their only option is the Church."
***
He did not respond right away because what Elsa was saying sounded so strange to him.
Even if Elsa was, quite literally, in a temporary position, she still held the post of pastor. And not only that, she had played her own part in resolving the commotion that had overtaken the town, which meant she likely had more sway than her post should have afforded her.
It was God's will that she help those in need, so if she expressed her desire to help those people, she could likely convince the Church with ease.
"Or would you like me to investigate whether they're able to repay any debts?"
Elsa always stood with her back perfectly straight, every strand of hair in her bun perfectly in place even after a long day of work.
Uncharacteristically, the woman seemed to hunch her shoulders slightly as she said, "No, that is not a problem. The nursery had been doing poorly for years now, but since the villagers are diligent, they have now made stable lives for themselves hunting deer and making leather string. This town is a hub of trade—no amount of leather straps to secure bags shut would ever be enough. That is why I doubt they truly need a loan after all. What I mean to ask is..." Elsa turned to Lawrence, her typically tough demeanor now colored by a hue of concern on her face. "We want you to find a way for the Church to loan money to them."
The unease on Elsa's face made it seem as though she was a young child trying to speak a foreign language.
It truly seemed as though she had no confidence that what she was trying to say made any sense.
"Er, I ask that you find a way—"
"No, I understand. It'll be fine," Lawrence replied.
It seemed as though Elsa wanted to say more, but she meekly kept her mouth shut.
But while Lawrence understood each and every word she said, he did not quite understand the sum of their meaning. After a brief silence, Holo spoke up.
"The villagers want money, no?" "And you Church people want to loan them money, no? It sounds quite fair to me."
The look on her face told them that she was already fed up with the inevitable complications that were to come. She knew there was a catch.
Elsa placed her hand to her chest and took several deep breaths, carefully choosing her words before speaking up.
"Personally, I empathize with the reasons why the villagers are asking for money. I believe the Church should help them. However..." She turned her attention toward Lawrence, an apologetic look on her face. "However, the Church lending out money is not an agreeable thing. And we are in the midst of a storm that questions all the evil acts the Church has committed."
She looked apologetic because she had no intention of criticizing Lawrence and Holo for such a thing.
Holo overtly turned her gaze away; that was because Col and Myuri had been sending considerable shock waves through the Church, and dust had been stirred up all over the world.
It was a good thing that all the years of wrongdoing the Church had committed were being held to account, but unfortunately, not everything about it would resolve in a peaceable manner. The Church was hypocritical—despite how much it praised asceticism, it had grown fat from all the tithes and donations it had received over the years.
And so, in recent times, anything regarding the Church and its money would be scrutinized, and anything that might seem innocent at first was often met with dubious looks.
Ultimately, the reason why things had turned out this way could very likely be because of Col.
"Well, if it is the right thing to do, then it shouldn't be a problem for you to lend them money, right? I'm sure it won't go against Church teachings so long as the interest rate isn't too high."


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

Input:
As Lawrence considered how he had just untangled said web, Elsa shook her head.
"Not at all. Companies have already turned the village down, and their only option is the Church."
***
He did not respond right away because what Elsa was saying sounded so strange to him.
Even if Elsa was, quite literally, in a temporary position, she still held the post of pastor. And not only that, she had played her own part in resolving the commotion that had overtaken the town, which meant she likely had more sway than her post should have afforded her.
It was God's will that she help those in need, so if she expressed her desire to help those people, she could likely convince the Church with ease.
"Or would you like me to investigate whether they're able to repay any debts?"
Elsa always stood with her back perfectly straight, every strand of hair in her bun perfectly in place even after a long day of work.
Uncharacteristically, the woman seemed to hunch her shoulders slightly as she said, "No, that is not a problem. The nursery had been doing poorly for years now, but since the villagers are diligent, they have now made stable lives for themselves hunting deer and making leather string. This town is a hub of trade—no amount of leather straps to secure bags shut would ever be enough. That is why I doubt they truly need a loan after all. What I mean to ask is..." Elsa turned to Lawrence, her typically tough demeanor now colored by a hue of concern on her face. "We want you to find a way for the Church to loan money to them."
The unease on Elsa's face made it seem as though she was a young child trying to speak a foreign language.
It truly seemed as though she had no confidence that what she was trying to say made any sense.
"Er, I ask that you find a way—"
"No, I understand. It'll be fine," Lawrence replied.
It seemed as though Elsa wanted to say more, but she meekly kept her mouth shut.
But while Lawrence understood each and every word she said, he did not quite understand the sum of their meaning. After a brief silence, Holo spoke up.
"The villagers want money, no?" "And you Church people want to loan them money, no? It sounds quite fair to me."
The look on her face told them that she was already fed up with the inevitable complications that were to come. She knew there was a catch.
Elsa placed her hand to her chest and took several deep breaths, carefully choosing her words before speaking up.
"Personally, I empathize with the reasons why the villagers are asking for money. I believe the Church should help them. However..." She turned her attention toward Lawrence, an apologetic look on her face. "However, the Church lending out money is not an agreeable thing. And we are in the midst of a storm that questions all the evil acts the Church has committed."
She looked apologetic because she had no intention of criticizing Lawrence and Holo for such a thing.
Holo overtly turned her gaze away; that was because Col and Myuri had been sending considerable shock waves through the Church, and dust had been stirred up all over the world.
It was a good thing that all the years of wrongdoing the Church had committed were being held to account, but unfortunately, not everything about it would resolve in a peaceable manner. The Church was hypocritical—despite how much it praised asceticism, it had grown fat from all the tithes and donations it had received over the years.
And so, in recent times, anything regarding the Church and its money would be scrutinized, and anything that might seem innocent at first was often met with dubious looks.
Ultimately, the reason why things had turned out this way could very likely be because of Col.
"Well, if it is the right thing to do, then it shouldn't be a problem for you to lend them money, right? I'm sure it won't go against Church teachings so long as the interest rate isn't too high."

Output:
"Tacit approval, if anything. But the priests here are hesitant—they think we may be set up as a scapegoat for something."
Lawrence could understand that.
"They believe that any excess money loaned to them will be met with suspicion, especially since the village is not particularly troubled by money."
"If that be the reason why you will not lend them money, then do you have a reason why you do want to? It sounds as though the ones who cultivate the fish are not troubled by a lack of coin," Holo said, and Elsa turned to look at her.
She then directed her gaze ahead—the church had come into view.
"Or rather, could you listen to our situation with fresh ears and offer your judgments?"
She meant to say that the villagers' pleas were as coordinated and theatrical as a storytelling.
And Elsa was an old friend who knew exactly what Holo was.
"My ears come at the cost of a refreshingly cold mug of ale."
Holo could tell when people were lying.
Elsa's shoulders heaved with a sigh as she made her way toward the church.
The sky had turned violet by the time they reached Salonia's church; lanterns were now lit throughout town. Evening mass had ended, and while Lawrence initially thought the church might be completely shuttered at this point, they instead found the doors wide open and several women loitering by the entrance.
"There they are!"
The moment a plump woman noticed the trio, she pointed her finger and exclaimed. A crowd of people then shuffled out from inside the church. They all appeared rustic in their dress; it was unlikely they were from the town.
Lawrence was bewildered, and Holo looked dubiously at Elsa.
Elsa cleared her throat and raised her voice.
"I have brought the great merchant who saved Salonia! Make way, make way!"
"Oh, great merchant!"
"It's you!"
"Thanks be to heaven!"
Elsa literally parted the sea of people, who had gathered as though a saint had appeared.
Lawrence enjoyed himself, recalling a time when he would get into fistfights over buying goods at market, but the sensitive Holo was shocked and shrunk into herself slightly in fear.
Lawrence gripped her shoulders to offer reassurance and they followed Elsa into the church.
Inside, in the nave where the altar sat, there were men sitting however they pleased throughout the pews. And it was truly in whichever manner they pleased—some were weighing wheat, and some were even sharpening their hatchets. Some had gone shirtless, mending their clothes, and one person had even brought along several goats.
"Hey! I told you, no goats inside! Go tie them up out back and come back later!"
Upon Elsa's scolding, a man who looked much like a goat himself led the three goats out of the church.
As she stood sighing, a priest appeared from the corridor leading into the back rooms.
"Elsa, over here."
He gestured to them, and Lawrence went along with Elsa to him. Following behind them was the crowd of all of those who had been loitering outside the church and inside the nave.
When they came to stand before what looked to be a multipurpose hall, Elsa turned around and said, "You all wait here."
The command made the whole crowd—not unlike a flock of ducks—come to a halt, but they all began muttering among one another. Then, the slender, debonair bishop opened the door, allowing Lawrence, Holo, and Elsa inside; Elsa shut the door behind them, cutting the crowd off.
"What is going on?" Holo asked, like she had been having a nightmare in Lawrence's arms, and one of the people sitting at the long table stood.
"I hope my people haven't been troubling you."
An old man with gray hair and an earnest look on his face addressed them. Lawrence surmised that he must be the mayor of the Rahden Bishopric.
"It's all right, Mayor. Everyone is behaving themselves," the bishop said casually; he certainly sounded like he belonged in a town flourishing from trade.
"I thank you for taking in the villagers. I did not originally intend to come with all of these people..."


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

Input:
"Tacit approval, if anything. But the priests here are hesitant—they think we may be set up as a scapegoat for something."
Lawrence could understand that.
"They believe that any excess money loaned to them will be met with suspicion, especially since the village is not particularly troubled by money."
"If that be the reason why you will not lend them money, then do you have a reason why you do want to? It sounds as though the ones who cultivate the fish are not troubled by a lack of coin," Holo said, and Elsa turned to look at her.
She then directed her gaze ahead—the church had come into view.
"Or rather, could you listen to our situation with fresh ears and offer your judgments?"
She meant to say that the villagers' pleas were as coordinated and theatrical as a storytelling.
And Elsa was an old friend who knew exactly what Holo was.
"My ears come at the cost of a refreshingly cold mug of ale."
Holo could tell when people were lying.
Elsa's shoulders heaved with a sigh as she made her way toward the church.
The sky had turned violet by the time they reached Salonia's church; lanterns were now lit throughout town. Evening mass had ended, and while Lawrence initially thought the church might be completely shuttered at this point, they instead found the doors wide open and several women loitering by the entrance.
"There they are!"
The moment a plump woman noticed the trio, she pointed her finger and exclaimed. A crowd of people then shuffled out from inside the church. They all appeared rustic in their dress; it was unlikely they were from the town.
Lawrence was bewildered, and Holo looked dubiously at Elsa.
Elsa cleared her throat and raised her voice.
"I have brought the great merchant who saved Salonia! Make way, make way!"
"Oh, great merchant!"
"It's you!"
"Thanks be to heaven!"
Elsa literally parted the sea of people, who had gathered as though a saint had appeared.
Lawrence enjoyed himself, recalling a time when he would get into fistfights over buying goods at market, but the sensitive Holo was shocked and shrunk into herself slightly in fear.
Lawrence gripped her shoulders to offer reassurance and they followed Elsa into the church.
Inside, in the nave where the altar sat, there were men sitting however they pleased throughout the pews. And it was truly in whichever manner they pleased—some were weighing wheat, and some were even sharpening their hatchets. Some had gone shirtless, mending their clothes, and one person had even brought along several goats.
"Hey! I told you, no goats inside! Go tie them up out back and come back later!"
Upon Elsa's scolding, a man who looked much like a goat himself led the three goats out of the church.
As she stood sighing, a priest appeared from the corridor leading into the back rooms.
"Elsa, over here."
He gestured to them, and Lawrence went along with Elsa to him. Following behind them was the crowd of all of those who had been loitering outside the church and inside the nave.
When they came to stand before what looked to be a multipurpose hall, Elsa turned around and said, "You all wait here."
The command made the whole crowd—not unlike a flock of ducks—come to a halt, but they all began muttering among one another. Then, the slender, debonair bishop opened the door, allowing Lawrence, Holo, and Elsa inside; Elsa shut the door behind them, cutting the crowd off.
"What is going on?" Holo asked, like she had been having a nightmare in Lawrence's arms, and one of the people sitting at the long table stood.
"I hope my people haven't been troubling you."
An old man with gray hair and an earnest look on his face addressed them. Lawrence surmised that he must be the mayor of the Rahden Bishopric.
"It's all right, Mayor. Everyone is behaving themselves," the bishop said casually; he certainly sounded like he belonged in a town flourishing from trade.
"I thank you for taking in the villagers. I did not originally intend to come with all of these people..."

Output:
The bishop paid them lip service, but it was Elsa's job to actually clean the chapel. Her face was scrunched up as though she was fighting a headache; she must have remembered the goats in the nave.
"And who might this be?"
"These two are the merchants who saved Salonia from dire straits, the ones we mentioned before."
Now suddenly the topic of the conversation, Lawrence hurriedly conjured his best merchant's smile.
"Ah, I see. I am honored." The old man lowered his head politely and introduced himself, "My name is Sulto. I act as mayor for the small village in the Rahden Bishopric."
"Kraft Lawrence. This is my wife, Holo."
When Lawrence introduced himself in turn, a relieved smile crossed Sulto's face, like he had come across a hometown acquaintance in a foreign land.
"I have heard stories of you, Sir Lawrence. No words can express my thanks that someone such as you has offered to help me. Thank you so much."
Lawrence was not sure what sort of embellished stories the old man had heard of him, so he simply gave an ambiguous smile and nodded.
"Now then, how may I be of service?"
Just as he anticipated, the man who named himself Sulto was mayor of the village famous for its trout hatchery.
According to what Elsa had told them earlier, while the church itself wanted to loan them money, current affairs made the act of lending out money a tricky one for the church. Therefore, they wanted a merchant's wisdom to find an acceptable way to offer a loan without seeming suspicious. There was good reason that the villagers had come out in force to the church.
But Lawrence had, at first, thought the village had wanted to borrow money after its hatchery industry had failed because they no longer had a way to make a living, but that did not seem to be the case. The men loitering in the nave held food that looked to have been purchased from town and owned tools that looked to be of good quality, despite their shoddy dress.
What did these villagers, who clearly led comfortable lives, want to do with the loan money, and why was the church trying to support them?
Sulto adjusted his posture under Lawrence's gaze and said, "We would like the church to loan us money so that Lord Rahden may become a bishop."
The first word that came to Lawrence's mind was simony. It was the bishop who then interjected.
"That wording will cause misunderstandings, Mister Mayor." He then turned to Lawrence and gave his own merchant-like smile. "Please, take a seat. There is a delicate situation unfolding in the Rahden Bishopric."
This sounded fishy to Lawrence, and so he found himself glancing in Elsa's direction. She was the ideal priest: honest and unforgiving of any crooked acts. His gaze was questioning—raising money to earn themselves a high-ranking clergyman was the very thing that would attract all the wrong kinds of attention in this day and age.
Lawrence had not done this because he was a particularly fastidious man, but because he was not fond of the idea of being made to cross a bridge he could not verify the safety of.
And surprisingly, Elsa turned to meet Lawrence's gaze head-on.
"Just listen to what he has to say."
Whatever it was, it was apparently perfectly valid under her ethical perspective.
Even Holo, who was also watching suspiciously, knew perfectly well what Elsa was like. She blinked, not expecting that reaction.
"...All right," Lawrence said, nodding. "Tell me."
Lawrence and Holo sat across from Mayor Sulto.
"Our town is situated within the Rahden Bishopric, but that is just a nickname for the area," Sulto explained. "Lord Rahden, who developed the small, poor sliver of land within the mountains, is an upstanding practitioner of God's teachings. He leads us—he is like a father to us villagers. We call our land the Rahden Bishopric in honor of his great deeds."


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

Input:
The bishop paid them lip service, but it was Elsa's job to actually clean the chapel. Her face was scrunched up as though she was fighting a headache; she must have remembered the goats in the nave.
"And who might this be?"
"These two are the merchants who saved Salonia from dire straits, the ones we mentioned before."
Now suddenly the topic of the conversation, Lawrence hurriedly conjured his best merchant's smile.
"Ah, I see. I am honored." The old man lowered his head politely and introduced himself, "My name is Sulto. I act as mayor for the small village in the Rahden Bishopric."
"Kraft Lawrence. This is my wife, Holo."
When Lawrence introduced himself in turn, a relieved smile crossed Sulto's face, like he had come across a hometown acquaintance in a foreign land.
"I have heard stories of you, Sir Lawrence. No words can express my thanks that someone such as you has offered to help me. Thank you so much."
Lawrence was not sure what sort of embellished stories the old man had heard of him, so he simply gave an ambiguous smile and nodded.
"Now then, how may I be of service?"
Just as he anticipated, the man who named himself Sulto was mayor of the village famous for its trout hatchery.
According to what Elsa had told them earlier, while the church itself wanted to loan them money, current affairs made the act of lending out money a tricky one for the church. Therefore, they wanted a merchant's wisdom to find an acceptable way to offer a loan without seeming suspicious. There was good reason that the villagers had come out in force to the church.
But Lawrence had, at first, thought the village had wanted to borrow money after its hatchery industry had failed because they no longer had a way to make a living, but that did not seem to be the case. The men loitering in the nave held food that looked to have been purchased from town and owned tools that looked to be of good quality, despite their shoddy dress.
What did these villagers, who clearly led comfortable lives, want to do with the loan money, and why was the church trying to support them?
Sulto adjusted his posture under Lawrence's gaze and said, "We would like the church to loan us money so that Lord Rahden may become a bishop."
The first word that came to Lawrence's mind was simony. It was the bishop who then interjected.
"That wording will cause misunderstandings, Mister Mayor." He then turned to Lawrence and gave his own merchant-like smile. "Please, take a seat. There is a delicate situation unfolding in the Rahden Bishopric."
This sounded fishy to Lawrence, and so he found himself glancing in Elsa's direction. She was the ideal priest: honest and unforgiving of any crooked acts. His gaze was questioning—raising money to earn themselves a high-ranking clergyman was the very thing that would attract all the wrong kinds of attention in this day and age.
Lawrence had not done this because he was a particularly fastidious man, but because he was not fond of the idea of being made to cross a bridge he could not verify the safety of.
And surprisingly, Elsa turned to meet Lawrence's gaze head-on.
"Just listen to what he has to say."
Whatever it was, it was apparently perfectly valid under her ethical perspective.
Even Holo, who was also watching suspiciously, knew perfectly well what Elsa was like. She blinked, not expecting that reaction.
"...All right," Lawrence said, nodding. "Tell me."
Lawrence and Holo sat across from Mayor Sulto.
"Our town is situated within the Rahden Bishopric, but that is just a nickname for the area," Sulto explained. "Lord Rahden, who developed the small, poor sliver of land within the mountains, is an upstanding practitioner of God's teachings. He leads us—he is like a father to us villagers. We call our land the Rahden Bishopric in honor of his great deeds."

Output:
"Has Lord Rahden received official benefices?"
It was the bishop who answered Lawrence's question.
"Allow me to speak on behalf of the records in Salonia." The bishop cleared his throat, beginning his statement with an odd prelude. "I suppose it was about forty years ago—the land was donated to him by the noble family that once owned it. He had served as representative for a church that reportedly once stood in the area. That does not, however, make him a member of the clergy that has received benefices."
Lawrence held back the grin that threatened to cross his face when the bishop said a church that reportedly once stood in the area. In translation, that meant there was a possibility that Rahden had received a donation of land while impersonating a member of the Church.
"But Lord Rahden's act did save many people," the bishop said, almost as though he had read Lawrence's mind. "Forty years ago, Salonia was the front line in the war against the pagans. Our annals state that it was a time of terrible chaos. It was then that Lord Rahden appeared, built a pond in an inhospitable mountain, raised fish, and took in people displaced by the war. Our records state that the fish from the Rahden Bishopric staved off starvation when fish could no longer be caught from the corpse-polluted rivers."
"I see."
Lawrence could see why Elsa wanted to support them.
Sulto then spoke up, impatience in his voice.
"Our home had been consumed by the war. I was young—newly married—so I took my wife and my newborn and headed for Lord Rahden's village, clinging to the rumors of salvation. When we finally made it to the village, we were exhausted, smoke still billowing from our singed clothes, and Lord Rahden greeted us by throwing us a net he had been weaving himself. I remember it like it was yesterday. He is a godsent man," Sulto said, almost in prayer, grasping the Church crest that hung around his neck.
As Lawrence watched the mayor, he slowly inhaled and held his breath. The villagers had poured into the church because all of them had experienced the same past, and they had all been saved by Rahden. Not only that, the man was not an official member of the clergy despite having done so many good deeds, and Lawrence now understood why that did not seem to sit well with the villagers. They could not stand to see Rahden without the proper accolades, so they had come to Salonia.
But accepting a benefice was commonly accompanied by bribery, so it was hard to imagine that the money borrowed for the purpose of becoming a bishop would be used for anything but.
Curious to know how that was working out, Lawrence glanced at the bishop, who gave him a knowing nod in turn.
"In terms of granting him bishophood, the pope's office has heard of Lord Rahden's faith directly. So your apprehensions of...bribery are not an issue here."
Lawrence turned to look at Elsa, and she nodded wordlessly as she pointed to her priest's stole. She was married and had children, yet she had been ordained as a priest. The Church had been tremendously shorthanded in this time of change, so they were willing to grant priesthood to anyone they could find, especially capable individuals such as herself.
They had set eyes on Rahden because they likely wanted to incorporate someone who was already well-known for his faith—someone who could easily win the hearts and minds of the people.
If that were the case, then there was one thing Lawrence did not understand.
"Then what are you planning on doing with the money?"
Sulto sighed. "We were told that if Lord Rahden were to become a bishop, then he would have to go south to the pope's office, and that might take more than a year."
Lawrence wondered if it would be used for travel and living expenses, but he had a feeling that they could raise donations in town.