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

Input:
He had already become completely dependent on Col; the boy was less of an apprentice than someone he could not help but think about convincing to stay on in order to keep the business running.
"I'll entrust all those things to you."
"Understood." Col respectfully bowed his head as he spoke.
He would leave the spring banquet in Col's hands; he had to deal with the more immediate issue of the craftsmen.
Having righted his thoughts, Lawrence went down to the central town amid lightly falling snow to make various preparations.
Things instantly got much livelier with the arrival of the craftsmen.
Usually, it was just Lawrence, Holo, Col, and Hanna—four people in a building designed for the lodging of numerous people, making it feel rather empty.
Besides, even though Holo was highly territorial, she was unexpectedly accommodating of guests. When they had settled on going ahead with a bathhouse, she had said with interest, "I do not mind it being lively."
But with winter having crested, with spring seemingly just on the other side of the hills, Holo withdrew from the ruckus they were raising every night.
Out of not feeling well, she spent many daylight hours shut in her own room; she did not seem to have any appetite, either.
She claimed it was from living this deep in the mountains during such a season and being forced to eat mostly dried meat and fish every day. When people spoke of spring sickness, they usually meant colds going around; people recovered right around when vivacious, fresh plants sprung up. Even the council had numerous absences; some people lost a fair bit of weight from loss of appetite. Seeing these things, Lawrence thought it mysterious that no one questioned the effectiveness of the baths, which were said to cure everything. Perhaps spring sickness was in the same category as lovesickness.
For his part, Lawrence had told Hanna to wash as much of the salt off as she could when preparing meals, even at the cost of less taste, but Holo seemed unable to endure that.
She had probably eaten too much along with the lively craftsmen at times, too.
For a while, even when Lawrence brought her gruel, all she seemed to do was take the scent in. In the end, though wheat gruel was no good, rye bread boiled in goat's milk went down fine, so she was currently eating small amounts of that. She was holding up pretty well given that she could not even drink wine.
Even though this was spring sickness, Lawrence was fairly worried at times, but Hanna told him there was no reason for special concern. As she seemed to be well versed in illnesses, Holo evidently trusted Hanna quite extensively; even if she could pull the wool over Lawrence's eyes, she got nowhere with Hanna.
As he nursed Holo and gave instructions to the craftsmen, more and more days passed as he prepared for the spring banquet.
When a little more time passed, around when sunny days began to outnumber days when snow fell, a letter reached Lawrence. It had come to Svolnel, written by Eve's hand. As Col had suggested, he had written a letter and sent it to Lenos, but that seemed to have been in error.
Even so, just as he had surmised, for her to have properly sent a letter ahead of her from Svolnel, she had not lost her knack for travel.
If she came from Svolnel, she would arrive before the festival of St. Alzeuri, but preparations for food and other things would still be steadily under way. That was why Lawrence replied that she would make it just in time if she took it easy on the way up. He also wrote that he was surprised she would really come.
She would probably make a strained smile and say, "I was invited, so why are you so surprised?" but she would no doubt laugh herself silly if he told her the circumstances under which that letter had been sent. Lawrence chuckled to himself as he pictured the scene.
Because she was in a foul mood, Holo, sideways on her seat in front of the fireplace, made a questioning sound and shot him a suspicious look.

Output:
Several days prior, he had received letters indicating Weiz and Mark and those with them had safely reached Lenos. They seemed to have sent their letter on the way out, so they had probably reached Svolnel around the same time as Eve.
He felt somewhat odd as he thought about that.
Holo made a halfhearted nod as she sat in her chair, pulling a blanket over her lap. "You supposed poorly," she said curtly.
"And yet, there is still time, is there not? You should focus on recuperating till then."
As Holo spoke, she slowly closed her eyes, moving her chin so vaguely it barely felt like a nod, and turned toward the fireplace.
Even in poor condition, Holo was Holo.
When he was being soft, she always behaved frankly, but gracefully.
After taking the opportunity to show Holo the letter, he gently stroked her head. In the old days, she liked it when he messed with her hair, tousling it, but nowadays she seemed to prefer long, gentle strokes.
As her hair was being leisurely stroked, Holo browsed the contents of the letter. Though she had difficulty with writing even now, reading was no problem at all. There had been times when Lawrence's concern over Holo's lies that she could not read a single word had backfired. Perhaps Holo was remembering back to that time when, as she finished reading Eve's letter, she sniffed the letter's scent and made a small giggle.
"She is fairly angry about something, it would seem."
"Oh, aye?" Holo made a typical small smile as she returned the letter to Lawrence. "Eve's angry, is she?"
As Lawrence asked her back, Holo shifted her gaze to the side and closed her eyes.
It was as if she was saying, "The fool still understands nothing." She chuckled.
But Holo's good mood frightened Lawrence in a different sense.
Holo sank back into the chair, eyes closed. In that pose, with the tip of her tail gently swaying, it was as if she was having a pleasant dream.
"More importantly, how are things going with the business?"
For Holo to switch to that topic herself meant she wanted to dance around the other.
She was definitely hiding something, but with her worn down like this, he prudently followed her lead. On their journey, too, arguments broke out most easily when she was feeling off stride.
"It's getting there. I'd say the skeleton's all finished and eight-tenths of the meat is on, too. We should be getting the fine decorations and fixtures bit by bit as the snow clears."
"Indeed. A pity I cannot watch the work in progress."
Certainly there was pleasure in watching wood and stone put together as a building was being built. But only the passive observer had it easy; owners had no small amount of things to worry over.
"Go one step at a time. Sometimes your eyes see what is far off with surprising accuracy, but you also miss things right under your nose. 'Tis not so?"
***
He thought it was like she was lecturing a child, but when she asked again, "'Tis not so?" he answered, "That's right."
"Aye."
Holo made a satisfied nod and then added, "But."
"And yet your penchant for overlooking what is at your feet has led to your picking up some unexpectedly joyful things, yes?"
"Huh?"
At Lawrence's reply, Holo made a light smile and waved dismissively with her hand. "It's nothing," she seemed to say. "More importantly, you, what's happening with that?"
As Holo spoke, she opened her eyes, strength having returned to them at some point.
With the look she gave him, even Lawrence could not mistake what she meant by that.
"That, is it?"
"Aye. Will it be in time?"
The serious face Holo was making greatly resembled a look of concern, no doubt because her eyes were wide and her face was displaying a fair bit of emotion. Incidentally, it was her mouth that stood out when she smiled. It was truly lovely how she opened her mouth ridiculously wide to guffaw when she seemed to be really having fun.


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

Input:
Several days prior, he had received letters indicating Weiz and Mark and those with them had safely reached Lenos. They seemed to have sent their letter on the way out, so they had probably reached Svolnel around the same time as Eve.
He felt somewhat odd as he thought about that.
Holo made a halfhearted nod as she sat in her chair, pulling a blanket over her lap. "You supposed poorly," she said curtly.
"And yet, there is still time, is there not? You should focus on recuperating till then."
As Holo spoke, she slowly closed her eyes, moving her chin so vaguely it barely felt like a nod, and turned toward the fireplace.
Even in poor condition, Holo was Holo.
When he was being soft, she always behaved frankly, but gracefully.
After taking the opportunity to show Holo the letter, he gently stroked her head. In the old days, she liked it when he messed with her hair, tousling it, but nowadays she seemed to prefer long, gentle strokes.
As her hair was being leisurely stroked, Holo browsed the contents of the letter. Though she had difficulty with writing even now, reading was no problem at all. There had been times when Lawrence's concern over Holo's lies that she could not read a single word had backfired. Perhaps Holo was remembering back to that time when, as she finished reading Eve's letter, she sniffed the letter's scent and made a small giggle.
"She is fairly angry about something, it would seem."
"Oh, aye?" Holo made a typical small smile as she returned the letter to Lawrence. "Eve's angry, is she?"
As Lawrence asked her back, Holo shifted her gaze to the side and closed her eyes.
It was as if she was saying, "The fool still understands nothing." She chuckled.
But Holo's good mood frightened Lawrence in a different sense.
Holo sank back into the chair, eyes closed. In that pose, with the tip of her tail gently swaying, it was as if she was having a pleasant dream.
"More importantly, how are things going with the business?"
For Holo to switch to that topic herself meant she wanted to dance around the other.
She was definitely hiding something, but with her worn down like this, he prudently followed her lead. On their journey, too, arguments broke out most easily when she was feeling off stride.
"It's getting there. I'd say the skeleton's all finished and eight-tenths of the meat is on, too. We should be getting the fine decorations and fixtures bit by bit as the snow clears."
"Indeed. A pity I cannot watch the work in progress."
Certainly there was pleasure in watching wood and stone put together as a building was being built. But only the passive observer had it easy; owners had no small amount of things to worry over.
"Go one step at a time. Sometimes your eyes see what is far off with surprising accuracy, but you also miss things right under your nose. 'Tis not so?"
***
He thought it was like she was lecturing a child, but when she asked again, "'Tis not so?" he answered, "That's right."
"Aye."
Holo made a satisfied nod and then added, "But."
"And yet your penchant for overlooking what is at your feet has led to your picking up some unexpectedly joyful things, yes?"
"Huh?"
At Lawrence's reply, Holo made a light smile and waved dismissively with her hand. "It's nothing," she seemed to say. "More importantly, you, what's happening with that?"
As Holo spoke, she opened her eyes, strength having returned to them at some point.
With the look she gave him, even Lawrence could not mistake what she meant by that.
"That, is it?"
"Aye. Will it be in time?"
The serious face Holo was making greatly resembled a look of concern, no doubt because her eyes were wide and her face was displaying a fair bit of emotion. Incidentally, it was her mouth that stood out when she smiled. It was truly lovely how she opened her mouth ridiculously wide to guffaw when she seemed to be really having fun.

Output:
Without thinking, Lawrence embraced Holo's cheeks with his palms, stroking her, forgetting that Holo had "trained" him to do so only a short time before.
"I'm confident the appraisal and supply of the goods will be worthy of a top-rank merchant."
Holo closed one eye with a slightly dejected look while he stroked her neck like he would a puppy's.
Perhaps she thought her wisewolf wisdom might be affected depending on how much her cheeks were stroked and her tail swished.
"But those appraisals have gotten us into trouble more than once."
"It's like a stone wall. We wouldn't be here if it was any other way," Lawrence casually replied to Holo's abusive manner of speaking.
Holo made an exceedingly distasteful face as she stuck her tongue out, making a sigh.
"Are you not the type to keep breaking stone walls?"
"If you didn't like it, you should've gotten out of the bath." He spoke while pinching her cheeks.
They were words he would have been far too scared to speak in the middle of his journey with Holo. Nowadays, he did not worry at all that if they had a big argument on one day, Holo might be gone the next.
Holo trained her red-amber eyes on Lawrence, staring.
Many times over, water had been spilled and flames fanned from such a point onward.
Even so, ever since he had met Holo in that far-off village, Lawrence was proud that what Holo stared at the most was him.
As he confidently looked back at Holo, her ears finally wilted, her tail seeming to curl as she wrapped it around her own feet.
Among beasts, the first to look away lost.
Holo pouted her lips as she spoke.
"Once soaked, I cannot get out of the bath without getting cold." With that, she looked at Lawrence once more. "Thus, I should just soak in the water, at least till spring comes and it becomes warm outside."
Holo had been obstinate about not going to Yoitsu because she could guess well enough what had become of it.
According to a book she had seen in the church Elsa administered, Yoitsu's wolves had been attacked and scattered to the winds by the Moon-Hunting Bear. Furthermore, in spite of having traveled around so much, they had never met anyone purporting to be one of Holo's comrades, nor had they even heard of one doing so.
If they went and saw, it would become the truth.
But if they did not go and see, they still would not be sure.
This age was not the age of the people of mountains and forests that Holo and her comrades knew.
In this age, which to them was a long, bitter winter, they were compelled to live quietly and in secret.
Lawrence could not remain married to Holo for centuries. He would almost certainly die before she did.
Holo was well aware of that. It was as if she was deciding what she should do afterward.
That being the case, Lawrence could not call staying soaking in the bath until the water ran out the right thing to do.
He should build stone walls to protect the bath and arrange good food, good wine, and the playing of musical instruments.
A merchant found joy in bringing joy to others through their wares. They risked everything for the sake of hearing at the end, "Ahh, that was delightful."
Then Holo spoke. "But I feel as if I have been soaking just a trifle too much of late."
Lawrence wanted to explain in detail just how much he did every single day for her sake.
But it was a princess like this that could bring cheer to a merchant with a single word.
"My apologies."
As Lawrence spoke, he embraced Holo from the side as she sat in her chair.
Inside Lawrence's arms, Holo took a very deep breath.
Perhaps she thought of Lawrence as the finest of food, but if so, he did not mind. On this occasion, if it was a choice between a sacrament granted by a priest he barely knew or having Holo season him with the finest oils mixed with the finest salts, he would rather Holo do it from head to toe.


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

Input:
Without thinking, Lawrence embraced Holo's cheeks with his palms, stroking her, forgetting that Holo had "trained" him to do so only a short time before.
"I'm confident the appraisal and supply of the goods will be worthy of a top-rank merchant."
Holo closed one eye with a slightly dejected look while he stroked her neck like he would a puppy's.
Perhaps she thought her wisewolf wisdom might be affected depending on how much her cheeks were stroked and her tail swished.
"But those appraisals have gotten us into trouble more than once."
"It's like a stone wall. We wouldn't be here if it was any other way," Lawrence casually replied to Holo's abusive manner of speaking.
Holo made an exceedingly distasteful face as she stuck her tongue out, making a sigh.
"Are you not the type to keep breaking stone walls?"
"If you didn't like it, you should've gotten out of the bath." He spoke while pinching her cheeks.
They were words he would have been far too scared to speak in the middle of his journey with Holo. Nowadays, he did not worry at all that if they had a big argument on one day, Holo might be gone the next.
Holo trained her red-amber eyes on Lawrence, staring.
Many times over, water had been spilled and flames fanned from such a point onward.
Even so, ever since he had met Holo in that far-off village, Lawrence was proud that what Holo stared at the most was him.
As he confidently looked back at Holo, her ears finally wilted, her tail seeming to curl as she wrapped it around her own feet.
Among beasts, the first to look away lost.
Holo pouted her lips as she spoke.
"Once soaked, I cannot get out of the bath without getting cold." With that, she looked at Lawrence once more. "Thus, I should just soak in the water, at least till spring comes and it becomes warm outside."
Holo had been obstinate about not going to Yoitsu because she could guess well enough what had become of it.
According to a book she had seen in the church Elsa administered, Yoitsu's wolves had been attacked and scattered to the winds by the Moon-Hunting Bear. Furthermore, in spite of having traveled around so much, they had never met anyone purporting to be one of Holo's comrades, nor had they even heard of one doing so.
If they went and saw, it would become the truth.
But if they did not go and see, they still would not be sure.
This age was not the age of the people of mountains and forests that Holo and her comrades knew.
In this age, which to them was a long, bitter winter, they were compelled to live quietly and in secret.
Lawrence could not remain married to Holo for centuries. He would almost certainly die before she did.
Holo was well aware of that. It was as if she was deciding what she should do afterward.
That being the case, Lawrence could not call staying soaking in the bath until the water ran out the right thing to do.
He should build stone walls to protect the bath and arrange good food, good wine, and the playing of musical instruments.
A merchant found joy in bringing joy to others through their wares. They risked everything for the sake of hearing at the end, "Ahh, that was delightful."
Then Holo spoke. "But I feel as if I have been soaking just a trifle too much of late."
Lawrence wanted to explain in detail just how much he did every single day for her sake.
But it was a princess like this that could bring cheer to a merchant with a single word.
"My apologies."
As Lawrence spoke, he embraced Holo from the side as she sat in her chair.
Inside Lawrence's arms, Holo took a very deep breath.
Perhaps she thought of Lawrence as the finest of food, but if so, he did not mind. On this occasion, if it was a choice between a sacrament granted by a priest he barely knew or having Holo season him with the finest oils mixed with the finest salts, he would rather Holo do it from head to toe.

Output:
"So, about that..."
On a cold morning like this, Holo would seriously obstruct Lawrence if he was trying to get her out of bed, but here, she listened as Lawrence spoke those words, a somewhat absentminded look still on her face.
"Aye...?"
"Want a preview? I was thinking that the banquet wouldn't be a bad place for its debut."
The item in question had been made in Svolnel and was on its way to Nyohhira at that very moment.
For a while, Holo drifted off, thinking about it, she seemed to use Lawrence's chest to wipe her face once, exhaling before speaking curtly. "Indeed. I mind not."
Lawrence drew his chin in a bit, as this was a terribly blunt way to say it. Between the two of them, was that really such a light thing? And such.
But taking no heed, Holo closed her eyes and yawned.
"Now that I'm warm, I've become sleepy."
This was Wisewolf Holo, quirks and all.
Beside himself, Lawrence thought, It certainly figures, as Holo made a slight twist of her body and thrust her arms out.
"Mm? What is it?"
"Pick me up."
She said it without the slightest shred of embarrassment.
As it was the nature of a merchant to respond to requests, even this one, he could not help himself.
Lawrence cradled Holo and picked her up. He thought, with a somewhat strange feeling, the day would come when he would no longer be able to carry her like this.
Holo would remain young as he became old.
Until now, Lawrence had thought only of Holo, who would be the one left behind alone, but he had spared little thought for himself.
At the moment, he still had little grasp of the meaning of getting old. His body was in good health; if he hardened his body a bit, he thought he would be able to become a traveling merchant again. But at some point his body would decline, becoming decrepit with age, and Holo would start looking like his own granddaughter.
Perhaps when that time came, he would curse his own helplessness, or perhaps lament how pathetic he had become, for in the past he had been able to cradle and lift up Holo.
From that perspective, these daily trivialities, that would repeat themselves for who knew how long, constituted precious moments he ought to value far more than gold.
It was as if her abusive language was a distraction to keep that fact from weighing upon Lawrence's heart.
"Aren't you bringing your wolfishness to tears?"
Holo turned her body around in Lawrence's arms, her eyes narrowed, apparently in good spirits as she replied, "If I cry, will you console me?"
Within his arms, Holo's big ears twitched, her tail swaying happily.
This was happiness...almost too much happiness to bear.
Therefore, all they could do was enjoy it—for they could neither stop the flow of time, nor reverse it.
Lawrence kissed the base of Holo's closer ear, carefully putting her to bed.
Being a narrow town, streets were few.
Even without inspectors to ask what your cargo was and where it was going, those things were quite clear to all. As a result, rumors that Lawrence was holding a banquet for close acquaintances to celebrate the opening of his business had long circulated around town.
It had even been made known that he had what were clearly odd connections for a mere traveling merchant. This being the case, he would have all eyes on him whether he wanted it or not, but Lawrence did not grow timid whatsoever.
For the banquet he was preparing would be very fine indeed.
"What are you doing?" Holo called out to Lawrence while he looked over the hall of the main building that he had decorated.
These last several days her condition had improved as she had eaten more, perhaps because she had made clearer what she wished to eat and what she did not.
"I was just thinking, look at how far I've come."
He said it as a light joke, but Holo made a rude laugh beside him.
"Is that a voice of mourning I hear?"
***
He looked down beside him at Holo and sighed.
"Only because you made me show off."


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

Input:
"So, about that..."
On a cold morning like this, Holo would seriously obstruct Lawrence if he was trying to get her out of bed, but here, she listened as Lawrence spoke those words, a somewhat absentminded look still on her face.
"Aye...?"
"Want a preview? I was thinking that the banquet wouldn't be a bad place for its debut."
The item in question had been made in Svolnel and was on its way to Nyohhira at that very moment.
For a while, Holo drifted off, thinking about it, she seemed to use Lawrence's chest to wipe her face once, exhaling before speaking curtly. "Indeed. I mind not."
Lawrence drew his chin in a bit, as this was a terribly blunt way to say it. Between the two of them, was that really such a light thing? And such.
But taking no heed, Holo closed her eyes and yawned.
"Now that I'm warm, I've become sleepy."
This was Wisewolf Holo, quirks and all.
Beside himself, Lawrence thought, It certainly figures, as Holo made a slight twist of her body and thrust her arms out.
"Mm? What is it?"
"Pick me up."
She said it without the slightest shred of embarrassment.
As it was the nature of a merchant to respond to requests, even this one, he could not help himself.
Lawrence cradled Holo and picked her up. He thought, with a somewhat strange feeling, the day would come when he would no longer be able to carry her like this.
Holo would remain young as he became old.
Until now, Lawrence had thought only of Holo, who would be the one left behind alone, but he had spared little thought for himself.
At the moment, he still had little grasp of the meaning of getting old. His body was in good health; if he hardened his body a bit, he thought he would be able to become a traveling merchant again. But at some point his body would decline, becoming decrepit with age, and Holo would start looking like his own granddaughter.
Perhaps when that time came, he would curse his own helplessness, or perhaps lament how pathetic he had become, for in the past he had been able to cradle and lift up Holo.
From that perspective, these daily trivialities, that would repeat themselves for who knew how long, constituted precious moments he ought to value far more than gold.
It was as if her abusive language was a distraction to keep that fact from weighing upon Lawrence's heart.
"Aren't you bringing your wolfishness to tears?"
Holo turned her body around in Lawrence's arms, her eyes narrowed, apparently in good spirits as she replied, "If I cry, will you console me?"
Within his arms, Holo's big ears twitched, her tail swaying happily.
This was happiness...almost too much happiness to bear.
Therefore, all they could do was enjoy it—for they could neither stop the flow of time, nor reverse it.
Lawrence kissed the base of Holo's closer ear, carefully putting her to bed.
Being a narrow town, streets were few.
Even without inspectors to ask what your cargo was and where it was going, those things were quite clear to all. As a result, rumors that Lawrence was holding a banquet for close acquaintances to celebrate the opening of his business had long circulated around town.
It had even been made known that he had what were clearly odd connections for a mere traveling merchant. This being the case, he would have all eyes on him whether he wanted it or not, but Lawrence did not grow timid whatsoever.
For the banquet he was preparing would be very fine indeed.
"What are you doing?" Holo called out to Lawrence while he looked over the hall of the main building that he had decorated.
These last several days her condition had improved as she had eaten more, perhaps because she had made clearer what she wished to eat and what she did not.
"I was just thinking, look at how far I've come."
He said it as a light joke, but Holo made a rude laugh beside him.
"Is that a voice of mourning I hear?"
***
He looked down beside him at Holo and sighed.
"Only because you made me show off."

Output:
"Your own business, something you've gained and lost before."
Not only once, but also twice.
There was a time when Holo had shouted at him, "Are you giving up on your dream?" That was when Holo herself had become the merchandise, about to be sold off.
For a while, Holo kept Lawrence company like that, gazing at the hall with him.
There was white fabric all over the reception table, the chairs, and the walls, making them ready to greet human beings of even the highest rank. Even if the utensils and trays were not silver, he had been able to put together a full set of brass. Swindlers deceived people into thinking fool's gold was the real thing, but the dull, golden twinkle of brass held the indecency of gold in check, giving off what Lawrence thought to be a rather pleasant glint.
Even though he had thought it would be difficult preparing flowers in the present season, Hanna had somehow gotten her hands on plenty of early blooming ones that he had used to decorate.
Even if the hall was deserted now, it would no doubt be full of people and laughter soon enough.
It seemed that, in the end, everyone they had invited had come and would arrive without incident.
With his fingers, he counted thirteen years since he had set out on his own as a merchant. Finally, he had an establishment to call his own.
"It would have been nice if your master could have seen this, too," Holo chimed in, apparently noticing him counting with his fingers.
Lawrence made a pained smile and shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, he was an eccentric man. He'd probably complain about all sorts of things."
"Do you want to go find him?"
It was Holo who spoke such words—Holo, who would have either yelled in anger or cried if he had shown the slightest sign of wanting to travel.
The horse that had seen Lawrence through so many trials had become an obstinate horse that only carried Col's things because Holo had strictly commanded it to do so.
Even so, Lawrence put his hand on Holo's head, drawing near, and said, "Why would I?"
Holo turned her head, looking up at him.
He had not spoken much of his master, even to Holo.
"All I have to do is have a business so big he'll have to take notice, after all."
***
Holo's large ears twitched as she discerned the meaning of his words, reading Lawrence's sentiment with her large eyes.
But, Lawrence thought to himself, he was confident she would not find what she sought within his heart, for he did not understand it himself.
No, he thought. It was probably the same way she thought about Yoitsu.
Lawrence and his master passed through a treacherous mountain trail, reaching a town inn at the ends of their endurance. Just before Lawrence fell asleep, his master told him, "I'm heading out for a bit," and left without any proper luggage.
No one had seen him since.
Lawrence had heard he had debts and a woman he loved. He probably thought Lawrence would just slow him down.
But his master had left him all of his charters and most of his cash on hand.
He was a man of many mysteries, so he probably ended up as a monk or recluse or something.
At the very least, that is what Lawrence thought, for it dispensed with all concerns.
"Before that, I need an establishment no one's going to laugh at."
"They shall not laugh." Holo seemed peeved as she spoke, unclasping her hands from behind her back and folding her arms in front of her chest. "They absolutely shall not laugh."
"That might be a problem in itself."
As Lawrence pinched her cheek, she seemed annoyed as she turned her face aside.
"But even these things can happen if you live long enough." His murmur was deep in emotion.
A mere traveling merchant.
A traveling merchant who thought great profits were as distant as the moon floating in the sky.
His being in that place and time seemed very much like a reflection of that moon floating on the water.
"'Tis all thanks to me."
Holo said it without an ounce of shame.
With Holo like that, Lawrence took her hand, speaking to her as if she was a princess.


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

Input:
"Your own business, something you've gained and lost before."
Not only once, but also twice.
There was a time when Holo had shouted at him, "Are you giving up on your dream?" That was when Holo herself had become the merchandise, about to be sold off.
For a while, Holo kept Lawrence company like that, gazing at the hall with him.
There was white fabric all over the reception table, the chairs, and the walls, making them ready to greet human beings of even the highest rank. Even if the utensils and trays were not silver, he had been able to put together a full set of brass. Swindlers deceived people into thinking fool's gold was the real thing, but the dull, golden twinkle of brass held the indecency of gold in check, giving off what Lawrence thought to be a rather pleasant glint.
Even though he had thought it would be difficult preparing flowers in the present season, Hanna had somehow gotten her hands on plenty of early blooming ones that he had used to decorate.
Even if the hall was deserted now, it would no doubt be full of people and laughter soon enough.
It seemed that, in the end, everyone they had invited had come and would arrive without incident.
With his fingers, he counted thirteen years since he had set out on his own as a merchant. Finally, he had an establishment to call his own.
"It would have been nice if your master could have seen this, too," Holo chimed in, apparently noticing him counting with his fingers.
Lawrence made a pained smile and shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, he was an eccentric man. He'd probably complain about all sorts of things."
"Do you want to go find him?"
It was Holo who spoke such words—Holo, who would have either yelled in anger or cried if he had shown the slightest sign of wanting to travel.
The horse that had seen Lawrence through so many trials had become an obstinate horse that only carried Col's things because Holo had strictly commanded it to do so.
Even so, Lawrence put his hand on Holo's head, drawing near, and said, "Why would I?"
Holo turned her head, looking up at him.
He had not spoken much of his master, even to Holo.
"All I have to do is have a business so big he'll have to take notice, after all."
***
Holo's large ears twitched as she discerned the meaning of his words, reading Lawrence's sentiment with her large eyes.
But, Lawrence thought to himself, he was confident she would not find what she sought within his heart, for he did not understand it himself.
No, he thought. It was probably the same way she thought about Yoitsu.
Lawrence and his master passed through a treacherous mountain trail, reaching a town inn at the ends of their endurance. Just before Lawrence fell asleep, his master told him, "I'm heading out for a bit," and left without any proper luggage.
No one had seen him since.
Lawrence had heard he had debts and a woman he loved. He probably thought Lawrence would just slow him down.
But his master had left him all of his charters and most of his cash on hand.
He was a man of many mysteries, so he probably ended up as a monk or recluse or something.
At the very least, that is what Lawrence thought, for it dispensed with all concerns.
"Before that, I need an establishment no one's going to laugh at."
"They shall not laugh." Holo seemed peeved as she spoke, unclasping her hands from behind her back and folding her arms in front of her chest. "They absolutely shall not laugh."
"That might be a problem in itself."
As Lawrence pinched her cheek, she seemed annoyed as she turned her face aside.
"But even these things can happen if you live long enough." His murmur was deep in emotion.
A mere traveling merchant.
A traveling merchant who thought great profits were as distant as the moon floating in the sky.
His being in that place and time seemed very much like a reflection of that moon floating on the water.
"'Tis all thanks to me."
Holo said it without an ounce of shame.
With Holo like that, Lawrence took her hand, speaking to her as if she was a princess.

Output:
"But 'tis thanks to you that I am so happy now, too."
Holo said that with even less shame.
She said it with a determined look, a chuckle, and a smile.
As Lawrence shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I won't deny that either, you know," Holo's tail swished around as she cackled.
Just as she was doing that, Col opened the door and entered.
Because 'twas the occasion of a banquet, he wore not his usual worn-out clothing, but a seminary student robe Hanna had tailored for him. His hair being fastened and held up by a red ribbon was no doubt the result of teasing by the musicians and dancing girls.
"Everyone is here!"
He was out of breath, possibly from running all the way over from the center of town.
Lawrence and Holo's faces met, and both nodding at the same time, they walked forward.
As they went outside, it was surprisingly fine weather, even by the standards of the last few days, enough to make someone wearing thick clothing sweat.
"Because the sky has been nothing but clouds, 'tis making my eyes blink."
"Are you all right?"
"I just wanted you to know if there are tears in my eyes 'tis not my doing."
As Holo spoke those words, she stomped on Lawrence's foot.
"I hadn't noticed."
"Fool."
As Col opened the door, he looked to and fro in front of the establishment and finally made a pained smile.
Col called out to him just so. "Ah, right. Mr. Lawrence..."
"Mm?"
"Mr. Luward and the others should be bringing it up right about now, but where shall you present it? At the start of the banquet? Or here, perhaps?" Col spoke as he made ready a stepladder and mallet below the building's eaves.
The front of the bathhouse served as a fine front entrance, but it was still incomplete, and there was a reason for that.
Lawrence thought a bit before replying.
"Here's good. That's what it's for to begin with."
"I suppose so. Best to use it as a nice opening ceremony, then."
Col moved with a bounce in his step. To be frank, Lawrence had not paid much heed to the tiny details because Col had taken care of them all beforehand.
"You've come to rely on him quite a lot."
"Jealous?"
As he asked, Holo leered, showing her fangs. "As if I could lose to a little brat like that."
It was a wolfish face she did not show very often, one not so much frightening as bewitching.
"Well, you have become a fair bit more plump of late."
As Lawrence spoke in jest, Holo stomped his foot with all her might.
He suffered in silent agony as Holo coldly declared, "Fool."
"Ah, Mr. Luward and the others are coming! Er, did something happen?"
As Col glanced between them, Holo made a grinning smile as Lawrence suffered without a word, something that happened rather often. Col made an exasperated smile and went to welcome Luward and the others.
"But I wonder how it'll feel in the end?"
She spoke in such a sunny voice that it was as if what had just occurred had never existed.
Though it would do Lawrence no good to speak of the fact, he was in awe at the speed of the change.
"It'll feel simple. Simple is best, after all."
She replied, "Indeed," and nodded.
Lawrence had conveyed his broad desires to Hugues the art merchant, and from the drawings Hugues had come up with, he had selected the simplest of them.
From there, the drawing had been shipped to Svolnel, entrusted to the hands of Jean Millike, the man who ran it. Lawrence had wanted to entrust someone else, but Holo had stubbornly insisted.
In the end, Millike did accept; he also sent an exceptionally curt letter that simply said: "Invite me when you hold the celebration."
No doubt Millike, child of man and spirit, who even now held sway over that town to protect the burial site of his beloved wife, who had departed long before him, had a thought or two in regards to Holo.
Nonetheless, the two did apparently have a few things in common. From time to time, Holo would send off some alcohol to him and he would send some to her, back and forth.


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

Input:
"But 'tis thanks to you that I am so happy now, too."
Holo said that with even less shame.
She said it with a determined look, a chuckle, and a smile.
As Lawrence shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I won't deny that either, you know," Holo's tail swished around as she cackled.
Just as she was doing that, Col opened the door and entered.
Because 'twas the occasion of a banquet, he wore not his usual worn-out clothing, but a seminary student robe Hanna had tailored for him. His hair being fastened and held up by a red ribbon was no doubt the result of teasing by the musicians and dancing girls.
"Everyone is here!"
He was out of breath, possibly from running all the way over from the center of town.
Lawrence and Holo's faces met, and both nodding at the same time, they walked forward.
As they went outside, it was surprisingly fine weather, even by the standards of the last few days, enough to make someone wearing thick clothing sweat.
"Because the sky has been nothing but clouds, 'tis making my eyes blink."
"Are you all right?"
"I just wanted you to know if there are tears in my eyes 'tis not my doing."
As Holo spoke those words, she stomped on Lawrence's foot.
"I hadn't noticed."
"Fool."
As Col opened the door, he looked to and fro in front of the establishment and finally made a pained smile.
Col called out to him just so. "Ah, right. Mr. Lawrence..."
"Mm?"
"Mr. Luward and the others should be bringing it up right about now, but where shall you present it? At the start of the banquet? Or here, perhaps?" Col spoke as he made ready a stepladder and mallet below the building's eaves.
The front of the bathhouse served as a fine front entrance, but it was still incomplete, and there was a reason for that.
Lawrence thought a bit before replying.
"Here's good. That's what it's for to begin with."
"I suppose so. Best to use it as a nice opening ceremony, then."
Col moved with a bounce in his step. To be frank, Lawrence had not paid much heed to the tiny details because Col had taken care of them all beforehand.
"You've come to rely on him quite a lot."
"Jealous?"
As he asked, Holo leered, showing her fangs. "As if I could lose to a little brat like that."
It was a wolfish face she did not show very often, one not so much frightening as bewitching.
"Well, you have become a fair bit more plump of late."
As Lawrence spoke in jest, Holo stomped his foot with all her might.
He suffered in silent agony as Holo coldly declared, "Fool."
"Ah, Mr. Luward and the others are coming! Er, did something happen?"
As Col glanced between them, Holo made a grinning smile as Lawrence suffered without a word, something that happened rather often. Col made an exasperated smile and went to welcome Luward and the others.
"But I wonder how it'll feel in the end?"
She spoke in such a sunny voice that it was as if what had just occurred had never existed.
Though it would do Lawrence no good to speak of the fact, he was in awe at the speed of the change.
"It'll feel simple. Simple is best, after all."
She replied, "Indeed," and nodded.
Lawrence had conveyed his broad desires to Hugues the art merchant, and from the drawings Hugues had come up with, he had selected the simplest of them.
From there, the drawing had been shipped to Svolnel, entrusted to the hands of Jean Millike, the man who ran it. Lawrence had wanted to entrust someone else, but Holo had stubbornly insisted.
In the end, Millike did accept; he also sent an exceptionally curt letter that simply said: "Invite me when you hold the celebration."
No doubt Millike, child of man and spirit, who even now held sway over that town to protect the burial site of his beloved wife, who had departed long before him, had a thought or two in regards to Holo.
Nonetheless, the two did apparently have a few things in common. From time to time, Holo would send off some alcohol to him and he would send some to her, back and forth.

Output:
It was the same furnace where the first gold coins bearing the Debau Company's symbol of the sun were minted, and the day that furnace was lit was the day Lawrence and Holo had sworn to go as far as they might together.
No doubt a first-rate craftsman had been hired to do the work.
As neither Lawrence nor Holo had wanted to look at it before it was complete, they had no idea what the final product looked like at all.
So the sign that would hang over the bathhouse's front entrance would truly be revealed for the first time this day.
"Mr. Lawrence! Miss Holo!"
Moizi raised his voice first, his great frame and vigor undiminished by the years.
Luward Myuri was a tad taller and his physique quite a bit sterner after six years, perhaps looking so radiant because of the backdrop, but to Lawrence's eyes, he looked like he was at pains to drag a smile onto his face.
"It's been a while."
Luward spoke calmly and put out his hand.
Lawrence gripped his hand, shaking it vigorously.
And then, Luward knelt before Holo on one knee, suddenly coming to a halt.
This was no doubt his display of the highest respect to Holo, comrade of Myuri, the symbol of their banner and the wolf of Yoitsu from whom he had inherited his name as captain of a mercenary company of people of Yoitsu.
But Holo did not like this kind of thing.
Luward, still halted on one knee, respectfully took Holo's hand and put his lips to the back of it.
"A fine male you have become."
"Thank you very much."
The Myuri family line had passed a message down for Holo's sake.
No doubt Holo was grateful beyond words; no doubt Luward, current head of the house, could not be more proud.
"But you have become even more beautiful. Truly, among women, you are—"
Right around there, Holo put her index finger to Luward's lips.
***
"Kufu."
Holo smiled and tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting from Luward's questioning look to the horse-drawn wagon behind him.
"The luggage is over there?"
"Ah yes. Hey!"
With that, Luward completely regained his captain's demeanor. No doubt the men who had followed Luward in his father's stead no longer called him "Young One."
"I was more worried about this than any other cargo escort job we've ever had."
The scars on his face had increased, making his smile feel more striking.
No doubt he would slip past death many times more as the years would pass, growing into a mercenary sharper and more forceful than even Moizi.
"Should we put it up right now?"
"No, we'll do it once people come, right?"
Holo's words were directed toward Lawrence.
"I think that's best. They've come all this way."
"Understood. Moizi and I have it here, so go ahead and unveil it."
It was a large, round metallic sign that a single adult could just barely get his arms around.
Some people simply had the name of their establishment for the design on their signs; others used symbols that carried some kind of drama or that simply stood out.
Lawrence had put the name of his establishment on the sign.
"It came out nicely?"
As Lawrence asked, Luward carried it over together with Moizi with ease, making a leer as he spoke.
"It made me tremble."
"Can we use that line as a testimonial?"
Luward first made an easygoing laugh at Lawrence's words. "How about ''Tis the finest bathhouse of the age, where even the hardy Myuri Mercenary Company feels at home'?"
"Oh, everyone has arrived!"
Lawrence suddenly grew tense at Moizi's words.
He could see a group coming from a grove of trees toward the top of the hill.
Eve was first, followed by Norah and Elsa and more. There seemed to indeed be five people.
In the end, he would still never understand Holo's true intent.
But beside him, Holo was in an exuberant mood; it seemed that Holo really had not brought this about because he had made her angry.
If that was so, what in the world was this?
No, best not to question, Lawrence decided.
Either way, there was no more felicitous day than this.


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

Input:
It was the same furnace where the first gold coins bearing the Debau Company's symbol of the sun were minted, and the day that furnace was lit was the day Lawrence and Holo had sworn to go as far as they might together.
No doubt a first-rate craftsman had been hired to do the work.
As neither Lawrence nor Holo had wanted to look at it before it was complete, they had no idea what the final product looked like at all.
So the sign that would hang over the bathhouse's front entrance would truly be revealed for the first time this day.
"Mr. Lawrence! Miss Holo!"
Moizi raised his voice first, his great frame and vigor undiminished by the years.
Luward Myuri was a tad taller and his physique quite a bit sterner after six years, perhaps looking so radiant because of the backdrop, but to Lawrence's eyes, he looked like he was at pains to drag a smile onto his face.
"It's been a while."
Luward spoke calmly and put out his hand.
Lawrence gripped his hand, shaking it vigorously.
And then, Luward knelt before Holo on one knee, suddenly coming to a halt.
This was no doubt his display of the highest respect to Holo, comrade of Myuri, the symbol of their banner and the wolf of Yoitsu from whom he had inherited his name as captain of a mercenary company of people of Yoitsu.
But Holo did not like this kind of thing.
Luward, still halted on one knee, respectfully took Holo's hand and put his lips to the back of it.
"A fine male you have become."
"Thank you very much."
The Myuri family line had passed a message down for Holo's sake.
No doubt Holo was grateful beyond words; no doubt Luward, current head of the house, could not be more proud.
"But you have become even more beautiful. Truly, among women, you are—"
Right around there, Holo put her index finger to Luward's lips.
***
"Kufu."
Holo smiled and tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting from Luward's questioning look to the horse-drawn wagon behind him.
"The luggage is over there?"
"Ah yes. Hey!"
With that, Luward completely regained his captain's demeanor. No doubt the men who had followed Luward in his father's stead no longer called him "Young One."
"I was more worried about this than any other cargo escort job we've ever had."
The scars on his face had increased, making his smile feel more striking.
No doubt he would slip past death many times more as the years would pass, growing into a mercenary sharper and more forceful than even Moizi.
"Should we put it up right now?"
"No, we'll do it once people come, right?"
Holo's words were directed toward Lawrence.
"I think that's best. They've come all this way."
"Understood. Moizi and I have it here, so go ahead and unveil it."
It was a large, round metallic sign that a single adult could just barely get his arms around.
Some people simply had the name of their establishment for the design on their signs; others used symbols that carried some kind of drama or that simply stood out.
Lawrence had put the name of his establishment on the sign.
"It came out nicely?"
As Lawrence asked, Luward carried it over together with Moizi with ease, making a leer as he spoke.
"It made me tremble."
"Can we use that line as a testimonial?"
Luward first made an easygoing laugh at Lawrence's words. "How about ''Tis the finest bathhouse of the age, where even the hardy Myuri Mercenary Company feels at home'?"
"Oh, everyone has arrived!"
Lawrence suddenly grew tense at Moizi's words.
He could see a group coming from a grove of trees toward the top of the hill.
Eve was first, followed by Norah and Elsa and more. There seemed to indeed be five people.
In the end, he would still never understand Holo's true intent.
But beside him, Holo was in an exuberant mood; it seemed that Holo really had not brought this about because he had made her angry.
If that was so, what in the world was this?
No, best not to question, Lawrence decided.
Either way, there was no more felicitous day than this.

Output:
"Ah, that's right." It was while she held Lawrence's hand, in the middle of heading to the entrance to the grounds to meet their guests.
"Mm?"
"There is something I forgot to ask."
"What?"
Was there something she had forgotten to have prepared for the day's feast?
He thought it must be something like that.
"Aye. The name."
"Hm?" Lawrence replied, then continued. "We decided on a name, didn't we? Er, well, certainly if you want to change it, it can still be changed...But didn't you like it? Spice and..."
He would have continued, but Holo's gaze alone brought Lawrence's lips to a halt.
It was not because she was angry. She was not sad, either. Nor was she beside herself. It was that even though her smiling face was so soft, it bore a look of seemingly unfathomable happiness, as if merely looking at him was enough to stir her heart very deeply.
And so she spoke. "'Tis not that."
"That?"
Lawrence spontaneously raised his head, looking all around the area.
Holo giggled and smiled. "Honestly," she said with a sigh. "So you really had not noticed? I was beginning to think you simply pretended not to..."
Lawrence was utterly confused.
What was Holo talking about?
While this was going on, the party of guests reached the top of the hill.
Unexpectedly, the first one up the hill was Weiz the money changer, but apparently Enek the dog had been chasing him; he had probably made a pass at Norah or something.
But the sight of them did not really enter Lawrence's head.
Inside his head, he felt like something incredible was about to be born.
Yes.
So strongly, like something, something completely new, was about to be born, here and now!
"It can't be—" As Lawrence raised his voice in a near shout, he became too overwhelmed to say any more.
He was in no condition to greet their guests; everyone around them paid attention to Lawrence's odd state.
Holo grinned. "To the very end, you never actually asked why I invited them to a banquet," she said. She narrowed her eyes—because of the dazzling brightness, or perhaps to hold back tears. "Obviously I wish to brag!"
And then, she lifted her chin and stood up on her toes, heedless of her surroundings.
There was no way he could decide something like that with all these people watching...!
He did not know if what reached his ears after were cries of acclaim or exasperated sighs.
But as Lawrence embraced Holo, he could say with certainty that he was the happiest man in the world.
Such was the memorable opening of a legendary bathhouse said to be a place of many smiles and much happiness...
...Spice and Wolf.
***
It was a strange thing, but without any particular reason for it, a house unlived in seemed to become decrepit with incredible force.
The doors cracked, the floorboards swelled, the roof fell to pieces.
Though the roof that had protected pitiable travelers from the rain had been robust while people lived here, it was now unreliable even before a light drizzle.
Perhaps because the building had been built on a firm foundation of stone, the weight-bearing pillars at the building's four corners still bore the vestiges of belonging to a house. Right now he seemed as if he pressed his body against them as he sheltered himself from the rain.
As that was the state of affairs, he placed the cargo-laden horse-drawn wagon, and the horse pulling it, beside the supporting pillar on the other side, and the supporting pillar for the ridge beside it, respectively.
As Lawrence sat with his back against the wall and lit a fire, he took a good look through the dilapidated roof at the heavy clouds on the other side.
"What, the fire is not ready yet?"
So spoke a small girl as she came over along the wall, splashing water off her robe all the while.
Under the dirty stone building, she looked like a devout nun on a pilgrimage to see the remains of an ancient saint.


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

Input:
"Ah, that's right." It was while she held Lawrence's hand, in the middle of heading to the entrance to the grounds to meet their guests.
"Mm?"
"There is something I forgot to ask."
"What?"
Was there something she had forgotten to have prepared for the day's feast?
He thought it must be something like that.
"Aye. The name."
"Hm?" Lawrence replied, then continued. "We decided on a name, didn't we? Er, well, certainly if you want to change it, it can still be changed...But didn't you like it? Spice and..."
He would have continued, but Holo's gaze alone brought Lawrence's lips to a halt.
It was not because she was angry. She was not sad, either. Nor was she beside herself. It was that even though her smiling face was so soft, it bore a look of seemingly unfathomable happiness, as if merely looking at him was enough to stir her heart very deeply.
And so she spoke. "'Tis not that."
"That?"
Lawrence spontaneously raised his head, looking all around the area.
Holo giggled and smiled. "Honestly," she said with a sigh. "So you really had not noticed? I was beginning to think you simply pretended not to..."
Lawrence was utterly confused.
What was Holo talking about?
While this was going on, the party of guests reached the top of the hill.
Unexpectedly, the first one up the hill was Weiz the money changer, but apparently Enek the dog had been chasing him; he had probably made a pass at Norah or something.
But the sight of them did not really enter Lawrence's head.
Inside his head, he felt like something incredible was about to be born.
Yes.
So strongly, like something, something completely new, was about to be born, here and now!
"It can't be—" As Lawrence raised his voice in a near shout, he became too overwhelmed to say any more.
He was in no condition to greet their guests; everyone around them paid attention to Lawrence's odd state.
Holo grinned. "To the very end, you never actually asked why I invited them to a banquet," she said. She narrowed her eyes—because of the dazzling brightness, or perhaps to hold back tears. "Obviously I wish to brag!"
And then, she lifted her chin and stood up on her toes, heedless of her surroundings.
There was no way he could decide something like that with all these people watching...!
He did not know if what reached his ears after were cries of acclaim or exasperated sighs.
But as Lawrence embraced Holo, he could say with certainty that he was the happiest man in the world.
Such was the memorable opening of a legendary bathhouse said to be a place of many smiles and much happiness...
...Spice and Wolf.
***
It was a strange thing, but without any particular reason for it, a house unlived in seemed to become decrepit with incredible force.
The doors cracked, the floorboards swelled, the roof fell to pieces.
Though the roof that had protected pitiable travelers from the rain had been robust while people lived here, it was now unreliable even before a light drizzle.
Perhaps because the building had been built on a firm foundation of stone, the weight-bearing pillars at the building's four corners still bore the vestiges of belonging to a house. Right now he seemed as if he pressed his body against them as he sheltered himself from the rain.
As that was the state of affairs, he placed the cargo-laden horse-drawn wagon, and the horse pulling it, beside the supporting pillar on the other side, and the supporting pillar for the ridge beside it, respectively.
As Lawrence sat with his back against the wall and lit a fire, he took a good look through the dilapidated roof at the heavy clouds on the other side.
"What, the fire is not ready yet?"
So spoke a small girl as she came over along the wall, splashing water off her robe all the while.
Under the dirty stone building, she looked like a devout nun on a pilgrimage to see the remains of an ancient saint.

Output:
Lawrence, who had traveled alone as a merchant for some seven years, now traveled with Holo, a centuries-old incarnation of a giant wolf sometimes known as a wisewolf.
"Is that what you should say while you're wringing water out of a robe right beside someone starting a fire?"
The first step was to take grass stalks that had been pulverized and cleaned with water, then dried to make them come apart, and light them with sparks from repeatedly striking flints together. Next came using that to ignite straw, using that to make wood burn.
The somewhat ominous look Holo made when she put her wrung-out robe back on was just as Lawrence finally got the fire transferred to the bundle of straw in his hand.
"I believe 'tis easier to light that fire with the heat of your anger."
Sarcasm aside, it did not seem she was interested in a real argument with Lawrence.
As her words fell on deaf ears, Holo put her hand over her head beside the fire.
Lawrence began burning wood chips he had shaved with a dagger, feeding kindling into the fire bit by bit, resulting in a fine campfire shortly thereafter.
"It really was just in the nick of time, though."
Lawrence picked out a branch from among his kindling, speaking as he pruned it with his dagger.
"Aye, thanks to a foolish merchant being unable to say no, we piled up too much heavy freight and ran late. We almost ended up having to sleep under the rain."
Holo spoke while spreading out some oiled leather and sprawling herself over it.
At the town they had visited several days earlier, he had been unable to say no when a traveling merchant he knew asked him to carry salt-pickled herring on his wagon. Thanks to the weight, the wagon had only been able to make gradual progress on the road, and rain began to fall midway.
But there was no mistake that far more than that, she simply found the strong smell of pickled herring on the roof rack hard to stomach. Perhaps it was due to all the lazy napping, but Holo's overly sensitive nose was not accustomed to any scent on the roof rack besides that of the hair of her own tail.
"We are profiting from it, though, after a fashion."
With the sharp, shaved branches, he skewered from mouth to tail a number of pickled herring from the cargo, standing them around the fire.
The contract with the shipper permitted them to eat up to ten fish.
It had been a while since they had had fish, so if he had wanted to go all out, he could put onions, garlic, and butter with them; surround them with tree bark; bury them in soil; and build a fire on top. After a while, he could put the fire out and dig the food up, having nicely cooked a covered "pot" of sweet and salty fish.
The reason he had not done so this night was that he could foresee that once Holo had tasted such cooking, she would never again be satisfied with fish that had been merely baked.
Tasty things were poison for the eyes and poison for the tongue. But one could not crave something they knew nothing about.
"Indeed. Aye, baked. 'Tis a rather tasty-seeming scent."
Holo smacked her lips as her tail wagged rapidly.
As Lawrence made an amazed-looking smile, he tossed wood shavings right into the fire.
"Since we're not in the woods, I'm not worried about attracting anything and everything, but I am concerned about mice."
Even though he had only just begun cooking, Holo poked a fish with a finger and licked the salt off.
If he said something like, "I thought it was dogs that liked the taste of salt," no doubt every hair on her tail would stand up with her flying into a rage.
"Well, I do not think that will be a problem. Not many people dwell in a place like this. For that matter..."
With that, Holo merrily licked salt directly off a fish that had not yet been skewered before continuing her words.
"...What is a building doing here, anyway?"
Holo looked up at the crumbling ceiling as she spoke, like a child looking at something odd.


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

Input:
Lawrence, who had traveled alone as a merchant for some seven years, now traveled with Holo, a centuries-old incarnation of a giant wolf sometimes known as a wisewolf.
"Is that what you should say while you're wringing water out of a robe right beside someone starting a fire?"
The first step was to take grass stalks that had been pulverized and cleaned with water, then dried to make them come apart, and light them with sparks from repeatedly striking flints together. Next came using that to ignite straw, using that to make wood burn.
The somewhat ominous look Holo made when she put her wrung-out robe back on was just as Lawrence finally got the fire transferred to the bundle of straw in his hand.
"I believe 'tis easier to light that fire with the heat of your anger."
Sarcasm aside, it did not seem she was interested in a real argument with Lawrence.
As her words fell on deaf ears, Holo put her hand over her head beside the fire.
Lawrence began burning wood chips he had shaved with a dagger, feeding kindling into the fire bit by bit, resulting in a fine campfire shortly thereafter.
"It really was just in the nick of time, though."
Lawrence picked out a branch from among his kindling, speaking as he pruned it with his dagger.
"Aye, thanks to a foolish merchant being unable to say no, we piled up too much heavy freight and ran late. We almost ended up having to sleep under the rain."
Holo spoke while spreading out some oiled leather and sprawling herself over it.
At the town they had visited several days earlier, he had been unable to say no when a traveling merchant he knew asked him to carry salt-pickled herring on his wagon. Thanks to the weight, the wagon had only been able to make gradual progress on the road, and rain began to fall midway.
But there was no mistake that far more than that, she simply found the strong smell of pickled herring on the roof rack hard to stomach. Perhaps it was due to all the lazy napping, but Holo's overly sensitive nose was not accustomed to any scent on the roof rack besides that of the hair of her own tail.
"We are profiting from it, though, after a fashion."
With the sharp, shaved branches, he skewered from mouth to tail a number of pickled herring from the cargo, standing them around the fire.
The contract with the shipper permitted them to eat up to ten fish.
It had been a while since they had had fish, so if he had wanted to go all out, he could put onions, garlic, and butter with them; surround them with tree bark; bury them in soil; and build a fire on top. After a while, he could put the fire out and dig the food up, having nicely cooked a covered "pot" of sweet and salty fish.
The reason he had not done so this night was that he could foresee that once Holo had tasted such cooking, she would never again be satisfied with fish that had been merely baked.
Tasty things were poison for the eyes and poison for the tongue. But one could not crave something they knew nothing about.
"Indeed. Aye, baked. 'Tis a rather tasty-seeming scent."
Holo smacked her lips as her tail wagged rapidly.
As Lawrence made an amazed-looking smile, he tossed wood shavings right into the fire.
"Since we're not in the woods, I'm not worried about attracting anything and everything, but I am concerned about mice."
Even though he had only just begun cooking, Holo poked a fish with a finger and licked the salt off.
If he said something like, "I thought it was dogs that liked the taste of salt," no doubt every hair on her tail would stand up with her flying into a rage.
"Well, I do not think that will be a problem. Not many people dwell in a place like this. For that matter..."
With that, Holo merrily licked salt directly off a fish that had not yet been skewered before continuing her words.
"...What is a building doing here, anyway?"
Holo looked up at the crumbling ceiling as she spoke, like a child looking at something odd.

Output:
Looking at the building, surely it did not take someone who had spent centuries in a village's wheat field like Holo to think the same thing.
Namely, that the building sheltering Lawrence and Holo from the rain had been built atop something that itself stood out.
"To begin with, how did you know about this place? When you realized rain might fall, you came straight here, did you not?"
Perhaps having licked enough salt to satisfy her for the time being, Holo took the piece of wood that Lawrence had been whittling right out of his hands as she spoke.
Just as he wondered what in the world she was doing, she picked out the largest fish left among those that had not yet been impaled on sticks, squeezing its mouth shut.
She was probably saying, "This one is mine."
"That's because I've been here before. At the time I was lost and just stumbled upon it."
Holo murmured as she took that in, looking around the area.
"I wonder, was it already this worn out back then?"
"No. Buildings pile up damage when people don't live in them. It's right about three years since I came here."
As the conversation continued, Holo turned to the fish baking from the fire.
She really could not calm down with food right in front of her.
"Meaning, there was someone living here at the time?"
"Yes. A rather eccentric man, too." As Lawrence spoke, he chuckled as he remembered. But it was not simply a laugh, for a considerable sigh was mixed in as well.
No doubt the dubious-looking face Holo made toward him was due to her noticing that sigh.
Lawrence raised his face up and shook his head a little.
"He built a stone fort in a place like this and lived in it, so of course he was eccentric."
"Indeed...Well, that might be the case, but..."
...What was the cause of that sigh?
As Holo spoke the unexpected words, she stared straight toward him.
Lawrence did not notice where she was looking, for he was looking not at her, but squarely at the flames of the campfire.
"It sounds like quite a story."
The voice Holo suddenly turned toward him seemed displeased on the surface, but there was a small air of sadness lurking behind her tone.
"Not really, but..."
It was not really something Lawrence wanted to talk to other people about.
That seemed particularly so in Holo's case.
Even though it felt like Holo lived to expose that which was hidden, she seemed to read the atmosphere at that point.
It looked like she might just quietly back off, but her ears drooped as she gave off a desolate look.
And then she spoke while reaching out for a fish. "You really do not speak much about your past."
Surely it was not so much insisting on hearing the story than lodging a small complaint.
Even so, Lawrence got weak in the knees when he saw Holo in that state.
As Holo, perhaps unable to resist, bit into the fish, as if purposefully taking off the salt she had gotten on her cheek in the process, Lawrence tentatively prefaced his comments.
"When tired on a journey, aren't funny stories better?"
"Salt never tastes better than when you are tired."
In no time at all, she had finished eating half the length of the fish and drank wine from a small keg with a sour look.
Her behavior, like that of a spoiled little lady, was largely an act, but Lawrence knew she wanted to be indulged with a story.
No choice, then, he thought with a sigh; he brought the dagger he was using to scrape branches over the fire.
"This dagger's taken good care of me here and there."
With that, he began.
"You see the words engraved here?"
It was a well-made dagger that he would not be ashamed to show any smith in any town whatsoever.
It had protected Lawrence on numerous occasions and had served as a convenient tool on his various journeys.
But it really felt like too martial a dagger for a traveling merchant to carry around with him.
As Holo savored the taste of the fish in her mouth, she snuggled against Lawrence's body under his arm, squarely peeking out at it like a cat.
"Ahh, where weally is somewhing?"


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

Input:
Looking at the building, surely it did not take someone who had spent centuries in a village's wheat field like Holo to think the same thing.
Namely, that the building sheltering Lawrence and Holo from the rain had been built atop something that itself stood out.
"To begin with, how did you know about this place? When you realized rain might fall, you came straight here, did you not?"
Perhaps having licked enough salt to satisfy her for the time being, Holo took the piece of wood that Lawrence had been whittling right out of his hands as she spoke.
Just as he wondered what in the world she was doing, she picked out the largest fish left among those that had not yet been impaled on sticks, squeezing its mouth shut.
She was probably saying, "This one is mine."
"That's because I've been here before. At the time I was lost and just stumbled upon it."
Holo murmured as she took that in, looking around the area.
"I wonder, was it already this worn out back then?"
"No. Buildings pile up damage when people don't live in them. It's right about three years since I came here."
As the conversation continued, Holo turned to the fish baking from the fire.
She really could not calm down with food right in front of her.
"Meaning, there was someone living here at the time?"
"Yes. A rather eccentric man, too." As Lawrence spoke, he chuckled as he remembered. But it was not simply a laugh, for a considerable sigh was mixed in as well.
No doubt the dubious-looking face Holo made toward him was due to her noticing that sigh.
Lawrence raised his face up and shook his head a little.
"He built a stone fort in a place like this and lived in it, so of course he was eccentric."
"Indeed...Well, that might be the case, but..."
...What was the cause of that sigh?
As Holo spoke the unexpected words, she stared straight toward him.
Lawrence did not notice where she was looking, for he was looking not at her, but squarely at the flames of the campfire.
"It sounds like quite a story."
The voice Holo suddenly turned toward him seemed displeased on the surface, but there was a small air of sadness lurking behind her tone.
"Not really, but..."
It was not really something Lawrence wanted to talk to other people about.
That seemed particularly so in Holo's case.
Even though it felt like Holo lived to expose that which was hidden, she seemed to read the atmosphere at that point.
It looked like she might just quietly back off, but her ears drooped as she gave off a desolate look.
And then she spoke while reaching out for a fish. "You really do not speak much about your past."
Surely it was not so much insisting on hearing the story than lodging a small complaint.
Even so, Lawrence got weak in the knees when he saw Holo in that state.
As Holo, perhaps unable to resist, bit into the fish, as if purposefully taking off the salt she had gotten on her cheek in the process, Lawrence tentatively prefaced his comments.
"When tired on a journey, aren't funny stories better?"
"Salt never tastes better than when you are tired."
In no time at all, she had finished eating half the length of the fish and drank wine from a small keg with a sour look.
Her behavior, like that of a spoiled little lady, was largely an act, but Lawrence knew she wanted to be indulged with a story.
No choice, then, he thought with a sigh; he brought the dagger he was using to scrape branches over the fire.
"This dagger's taken good care of me here and there."
With that, he began.
"You see the words engraved here?"
It was a well-made dagger that he would not be ashamed to show any smith in any town whatsoever.
It had protected Lawrence on numerous occasions and had served as a convenient tool on his various journeys.
But it really felt like too martial a dagger for a traveling merchant to carry around with him.
As Holo savored the taste of the fish in her mouth, she snuggled against Lawrence's body under his arm, squarely peeking out at it like a cat.
"Ahh, where weally is somewhing?"

Output:
She was probably asking, "So what is written on it?"
As Holo sat beside him, Lawrence handed her the dagger.
"God grant me mercy."
Holo's look of surprise might have been because she expected something more magnificent to be engraved on a weapon like this. In fact, chariots, rams, and the great swords and lances knights used on horseback all had phrases etched upon them. Yet among them, only a knight's dagger had something as seemingly banal as "God grant me mercy" engraved upon it.
In the past, Lawrence, too, had found it curious but thought it simply a matter of custom. He had only learned of its significance when he came to this very stone fort.
"Among the elderly, there are those who call these daggers 'misericordes,' meaning acts of mercy in an older tongue."
Holo nodded with deep interest; the moment she raised the dagger over the fire, the finely polished blade reflected the fire's light so brightly that she closed her eyes.
"Ha-ha. So you see, this dagger was handed down to me by just one such old man."
As he retrieved the dagger from Holo, his gaze fell to the well-used hilt.
The story was from three years prior.
It was a time when something like Lawrence meeting Holo was as yet unthinkable.
Though by good fortune he had reached it while having lost his way, truly this was the house of the devil.
The story of a merchant who wasted his profits on a daily basis was not an amusing one.
Furthermore, having set eyes upon it amid a plain that continued seemingly for all eternity, even though he thought it an ill omen, it simply could not have been helped.
The bare hill appearing smack in the middle of the plain had posts sticking out of it like the spines of a sea urchin. The grand, dignified stone fort at the summit of the hill gave off an atmosphere like an execution ground straight out of hell where the sins of man would be judged.
The feeling that a demon or Grim Reaper might show up at any moment was not based upon that atmosphere alone.
Having cut food down to the minimum to reduce traveling expenses, his last provisions had run out the night before. Horses could live off eating the poor, wild grasses while on the road, but men could not. Though he could choose to sacrifice his horse as a last resort, it would bring about bankruptcy, which meant much the same as death to a merchant.
Finally, he had received divine punishment for being too obsessed with turning a profit.
The circumstances were more than sufficient to make a man think that way.
Aided by his empty stomach, Lawrence was on the verge of losing his spirit and giving up.
However, it was an all too realistic welcoming ceremony that suddenly brought Lawrence back to his senses.
He heard a high-pitched sound, making him think that a large insect had buzzed past his ear. After, a sound like the shaking of wood instantly alerted him to just what had flown at him.
Lawrence instantly leaped down from the driver's seat and hid under his horse.
Someone had shot an arrow at him.
"I'm a traveling merchant who got lost! Just a traveling merchant!"
And even after yelling with all his strength, two more arrows thrust into the earth. They neatly avoided the horse, one falling to the left, one to the right; the shooter must have been rather skilled.
Whether as a result of Lawrence's shouts or not, no other arrows came flying, or perhaps the shooter was simply waiting for him to stick his head up before shooting again. Thinking of that, Lawrence stayed put for a while; finally, he heard the sound of footsteps. It seemed he had not been shot at from the fort; the shooter was apparently hidden on some slope somewhere.
When Lawrence, pathetically between the legs of his horse, looked in the direction of the sound, he saw the silhouette of a man.
The man stood still and spoke.
"A traveling merchant, you say?"
The voice was rather coarse; even if it was for show, Lawrence thought the man had to have been fairly old.
As Lawrence answered yes, the man swiftly crouched down.


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

Input:
She was probably asking, "So what is written on it?"
As Holo sat beside him, Lawrence handed her the dagger.
"God grant me mercy."
Holo's look of surprise might have been because she expected something more magnificent to be engraved on a weapon like this. In fact, chariots, rams, and the great swords and lances knights used on horseback all had phrases etched upon them. Yet among them, only a knight's dagger had something as seemingly banal as "God grant me mercy" engraved upon it.
In the past, Lawrence, too, had found it curious but thought it simply a matter of custom. He had only learned of its significance when he came to this very stone fort.
"Among the elderly, there are those who call these daggers 'misericordes,' meaning acts of mercy in an older tongue."
Holo nodded with deep interest; the moment she raised the dagger over the fire, the finely polished blade reflected the fire's light so brightly that she closed her eyes.
"Ha-ha. So you see, this dagger was handed down to me by just one such old man."
As he retrieved the dagger from Holo, his gaze fell to the well-used hilt.
The story was from three years prior.
It was a time when something like Lawrence meeting Holo was as yet unthinkable.
Though by good fortune he had reached it while having lost his way, truly this was the house of the devil.
The story of a merchant who wasted his profits on a daily basis was not an amusing one.
Furthermore, having set eyes upon it amid a plain that continued seemingly for all eternity, even though he thought it an ill omen, it simply could not have been helped.
The bare hill appearing smack in the middle of the plain had posts sticking out of it like the spines of a sea urchin. The grand, dignified stone fort at the summit of the hill gave off an atmosphere like an execution ground straight out of hell where the sins of man would be judged.
The feeling that a demon or Grim Reaper might show up at any moment was not based upon that atmosphere alone.
Having cut food down to the minimum to reduce traveling expenses, his last provisions had run out the night before. Horses could live off eating the poor, wild grasses while on the road, but men could not. Though he could choose to sacrifice his horse as a last resort, it would bring about bankruptcy, which meant much the same as death to a merchant.
Finally, he had received divine punishment for being too obsessed with turning a profit.
The circumstances were more than sufficient to make a man think that way.
Aided by his empty stomach, Lawrence was on the verge of losing his spirit and giving up.
However, it was an all too realistic welcoming ceremony that suddenly brought Lawrence back to his senses.
He heard a high-pitched sound, making him think that a large insect had buzzed past his ear. After, a sound like the shaking of wood instantly alerted him to just what had flown at him.
Lawrence instantly leaped down from the driver's seat and hid under his horse.
Someone had shot an arrow at him.
"I'm a traveling merchant who got lost! Just a traveling merchant!"
And even after yelling with all his strength, two more arrows thrust into the earth. They neatly avoided the horse, one falling to the left, one to the right; the shooter must have been rather skilled.
Whether as a result of Lawrence's shouts or not, no other arrows came flying, or perhaps the shooter was simply waiting for him to stick his head up before shooting again. Thinking of that, Lawrence stayed put for a while; finally, he heard the sound of footsteps. It seemed he had not been shot at from the fort; the shooter was apparently hidden on some slope somewhere.
When Lawrence, pathetically between the legs of his horse, looked in the direction of the sound, he saw the silhouette of a man.
The man stood still and spoke.
"A traveling merchant, you say?"
The voice was rather coarse; even if it was for show, Lawrence thought the man had to have been fairly old.
As Lawrence answered yes, the man swiftly crouched down.

Output:
"By the grace of God. Good thing I didn't shoot you to death."
The leering grin on his face made it hard to dismiss as a joke.
But the man stood up and made an about-face on his heel.
Is he letting me live? wondered Lawrence, staying put under his horse, when the old man suddenly looked back.
"Well, what are you doing? You got lost, didn't you?"
When Lawrence slowly poked his head out, the old man was pointing to the fort atop the hill as he spoke.
"At least let me treat you to a meal for your journey ahead, young man. Also, I have a favor to ask you."
It was quite a line, coming from someone defending his fortress by bowshot.
He behaved as though he was the master of this fort, but the old man, showing a perfect set of teeth in spite of his age as he smiled, introduced himself in this manner:
"I am called Fried, entrusted with Rumut Fort by the command of Count Zenfel, honored lord of this castle."
Spoken like a king, or someone who thought he was one in his own mind, but as Fried finished speaking, he looked up at the fort, his face suddenly breaking into an embarrassed-looking smile.
"Having said so, it's been quite a while since I shot an arrow at someone. I'm thankful I didn't hit you."
And as he made a chuckle, he walked up the hill.
For a while, Lawrence stayed where he was, watching Fried's backside from under his horse, his face a mix of a bit of surprise and bewilderment. He had heard of a Count Zenfel. He was famous in this region for his trivial pursuits, though one would no doubt only hear such talk about the ruler from travelers on the side of the road.
After all, it had been over a decade since that ruler had governed these lands.
What was Fried doing in a fort that no longer had a lord?
Bandits were fond of setting up shop in forts abandoned by soldiers, but was it really that?
Furthermore, he had no sense the man was going to plunder his cargo.
Courting unprofitable danger would make him a poor merchant, but lack of curiosity would make him an even poorer one.
After thinking it over for a while, Lawrence finally crawled out from under his horse, picked up the arrows Fried had left on the ground, and tossed them on top of the roof rack, and gripping the reins, he followed after Fried.
The road winding its way to the fort was in good repair, with tapered stakes all over the place embedded into the slope at an angle. They looked like defenses one would put up against an army about to invade at any moment, yet it all seemed to be lacking somehow.
It was only when they entered through the open stone gateway that he realized that somehow it was far too quiet.
"...Goodness, it's hard getting up the hill at my age."
As the wagon entered the courtyard, Fried spoke while slapping his hip with his bow.
Inside the finely set stone walls, life on the inside of the fort was just as finely maintained.
There was a cattle pen, a vegetable garden, and a stable, plus a graveyard and a small chapel, with flowers blooming all around.
It was immediately clear that the second floor of the building was kept in impressive repair as well; it seemed like someone's face might suddenly poke out from the shadows made by the open windows and doors.
But as Lawrence tethered his horse as Fried told him to, no faces poked out, nor was there even the slightest sign that they might.
He heard pigs, chickens, and even the faint baa of a sheep.
To be blunt, it was as quiet as if all the soldiers had turned tail and run.
"Hmm. I thought it might be my imagination, but you really don't look so good."
Fried suddenly spoke like that as he took note of Lawrence's state while walking with him and leading him inside.
There was no point hiding it, so Lawrence made an honest reply.
"Actually, my last proper meal was two nights ago."
"Hmph. That would do it. I must treat you to a feast, then. I have freshly ground pork and...Oh, come to think of it, Paule laid an egg by the ditch just this morning," Fried murmured to himself as he went into the building.


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

Input:
"By the grace of God. Good thing I didn't shoot you to death."
The leering grin on his face made it hard to dismiss as a joke.
But the man stood up and made an about-face on his heel.
Is he letting me live? wondered Lawrence, staying put under his horse, when the old man suddenly looked back.
"Well, what are you doing? You got lost, didn't you?"
When Lawrence slowly poked his head out, the old man was pointing to the fort atop the hill as he spoke.
"At least let me treat you to a meal for your journey ahead, young man. Also, I have a favor to ask you."
It was quite a line, coming from someone defending his fortress by bowshot.
He behaved as though he was the master of this fort, but the old man, showing a perfect set of teeth in spite of his age as he smiled, introduced himself in this manner:
"I am called Fried, entrusted with Rumut Fort by the command of Count Zenfel, honored lord of this castle."
Spoken like a king, or someone who thought he was one in his own mind, but as Fried finished speaking, he looked up at the fort, his face suddenly breaking into an embarrassed-looking smile.
"Having said so, it's been quite a while since I shot an arrow at someone. I'm thankful I didn't hit you."
And as he made a chuckle, he walked up the hill.
For a while, Lawrence stayed where he was, watching Fried's backside from under his horse, his face a mix of a bit of surprise and bewilderment. He had heard of a Count Zenfel. He was famous in this region for his trivial pursuits, though one would no doubt only hear such talk about the ruler from travelers on the side of the road.
After all, it had been over a decade since that ruler had governed these lands.
What was Fried doing in a fort that no longer had a lord?
Bandits were fond of setting up shop in forts abandoned by soldiers, but was it really that?
Furthermore, he had no sense the man was going to plunder his cargo.
Courting unprofitable danger would make him a poor merchant, but lack of curiosity would make him an even poorer one.
After thinking it over for a while, Lawrence finally crawled out from under his horse, picked up the arrows Fried had left on the ground, and tossed them on top of the roof rack, and gripping the reins, he followed after Fried.
The road winding its way to the fort was in good repair, with tapered stakes all over the place embedded into the slope at an angle. They looked like defenses one would put up against an army about to invade at any moment, yet it all seemed to be lacking somehow.
It was only when they entered through the open stone gateway that he realized that somehow it was far too quiet.
"...Goodness, it's hard getting up the hill at my age."
As the wagon entered the courtyard, Fried spoke while slapping his hip with his bow.
Inside the finely set stone walls, life on the inside of the fort was just as finely maintained.
There was a cattle pen, a vegetable garden, and a stable, plus a graveyard and a small chapel, with flowers blooming all around.
It was immediately clear that the second floor of the building was kept in impressive repair as well; it seemed like someone's face might suddenly poke out from the shadows made by the open windows and doors.
But as Lawrence tethered his horse as Fried told him to, no faces poked out, nor was there even the slightest sign that they might.
He heard pigs, chickens, and even the faint baa of a sheep.
To be blunt, it was as quiet as if all the soldiers had turned tail and run.
"Hmm. I thought it might be my imagination, but you really don't look so good."
Fried suddenly spoke like that as he took note of Lawrence's state while walking with him and leading him inside.
There was no point hiding it, so Lawrence made an honest reply.
"Actually, my last proper meal was two nights ago."
"Hmph. That would do it. I must treat you to a feast, then. I have freshly ground pork and...Oh, come to think of it, Paule laid an egg by the ditch just this morning," Fried murmured to himself as he went into the building.

Output:
Thinking such thoughts, Lawrence followed along, entering a neat and tidy galley.
"Over here."
They passed by a cooking stove that still had red embers in it, arriving at the middle of the room.
There stood a well-used table and chair.
As Lawrence sat, the chair made an uneasy creak, but there was not a speck of dust on it.
"Yes, yes. Still fine for you to sit in, is it? It seems my skills haven't dulled yet."
Though he spoke like a noble, he apparently did not shy away from manual labor.
In the first place, if he was the lord of the castle, he would not go out of his way to personally take up arms against guests. Moreover, leaving one's fort meant it had no value as a fortress.
"Well, you can rest easy. You and I are the only ones in this fort, after all."
There were tales of women living in small cottages in the middle of the forest.
Whether the woman be witch, devil, or spirit, the possibility she brought good fortune was overwhelmingly low.
But did that go for an old man who greeted visitors with shots from his bow?
Whatever the case, Lawrence certainly could not think of him as some sort of monster.
"Have you always been here by yourself?"
Fried smiled at Lawrence's question.
It seemed the chagrined smile on his face was not just Lawrence's imagination.
"When this place was entrusted to me, I had five bold men under me. I was down one, then another, and finally, only I remained."
"Was that from battle?"
As Lawrence questioned further, Fried turned toward him with a very forthright look.
Right around the moment Lawrence wondered if it was a bad question, Fried raised his face toward the ceiling and let out a hearty laugh.
"Ha-ha-ha! If only! It's been ten years since this was entrusted to me. The only visitors are the ones who get lost!"
Speaking as he laughed loudly, he stopped on a dime and closed his mouth, glaring at Lawrence.
"Do be careful about supper. If you eat too much, you won't be able to leave."
And smiling once more, he immediately walked toward the kitchen.
I'm sure this is not some demon-built gateway to hell, at least, but I have entered a very odd place indeed, murmured Lawrence within his own thoughts.
It did not take much time before pork added to runny eggs and rough-cut vegetables stir-fried in tallow were all done; the outside was still dyed dark red.
Bread seemed to have been recently baked inside the fort, for the wheat bread he was served was still soft, coming with ale that itself had been brewed in the fort. His mouth was full of herbs he had seen in the vegetable garden outside. In most respects it was a feast indeed.
Furthermore, before Lawrence could worry about it being poisoned, Fried himself toasted him in good cheer, displaying a healthy appetite one would not expect from someone his age.
"Aye. It's indeed tastier than when you're by yourself. Oh, don't hold back. You're young! Eat up! You've barely touched your ale."
He was hungry, of course.
Once he first stretched out his hand, he wolfed down everything in no time, to the point Fried's eyes went wide.
"My, my, you certainly ate that," Fried remarked while putting toothpicks whittled from a branch with a small knife through scraps of meat and bread. Indeed, though he spoke as if he was a nobleman, he looked like an old man in a village happily heading out to his fields and certainly nothing like a noble or knight at all.
In the middle of their meal, Fried asked Lawrence some very probing questions, such as "Where did you come from?" "What are you trading?" "Where were you born?" and "Do you have a wife?" As Lawrence had to answer such questions or do without such a delicious meal, he had no time to ask questions of his own at all.
"That was truly a splendid feast. No doubt I'd have needed a gold coin to eat like that at a traveler's inn."
He spoke very merchant-like words of thanks.
"I see, I see. Ha-ha-ha."
Fried, his face red from drinking ale, made an amiable laugh and nodded along.