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

Input:
He had done these sorts of things when he traveled as a merchant, so it was nostalgic for him as well as fun. When Lawrence returned to their room at the money changers' association building, his exhaustion was so acute that as he ate with Holo, he began falling asleep.
But it was a very good tired feeling, and Holo happily took care of him.
"Can't you be at least half this helpful on a normal basis?" he asked, but she made a rather foul expression.
"I am Holo the Wisewolf. I will move when the situation calls for it."
She seemed to imply that Lawrence should offer her tribute more frequently, though this particular outing had already cut quite deeply into their savings.
And he had another mountain that he really had to climb.
As the pain racking his body subsided, the incredibly tall statue of the patron saint in the town square was finished.
Svernel was an ironic town—just as the war to establish the Church's teachings in the heathen lands had ended, the southern religion suddenly spread and grew popular. Most people likely found the Church appealing on an emotional level since before. But because the war had still technically been undertaken, albeit only as a shadow of the conflict it once was, people still minded how their neighbors would react if they converted to the enemy's religion at the time.
But listening to the stories of the townspeople he was working with, most of the people who converted to the teachings of the Church were not especially moved by them. They did so mostly because they had heard there were many festivals every year if they adhered to the Church's calendar. If they were to pray to a God that they were not entirely certain existed, then life was more enjoyable.
When he told Holo this, who long ago was offered supplication in return for a good wheat harvest in a village, she reacted with an indescribably bitter smile.
All that being said, the townspeople's passion for the festival was real. It was plain to see this peculiar enthusiasm at the spring festival, the first day of which coincided with the Festival of the Dead.
"Leave the disposal to us! If you like, we'll do it with the sharpened edges of bronze coins that have been shaven down too much!"
The president of the money changers' association howled, holding a large hatchet he had polished just for the occasion today.
The ones accompanying him were all money changers at least a decade or two older than Lawrence. All the younger money changers lay facedown on their desks, asleep after several consecutive days and nights of work. Most of the older money changers' excitement was likely due to sleep deprivation.
But Lawrence admired what looked like the sturdiness of elders that had seen war's hardships, and the president grinned.
"We don't have many years left in us. We will work as hard as we can, knowing we won't be able to come to the festival after a few more years."
There was a saying—"live today as though tomorrow is your last." He looked at them the way Holo peered into something flashing and radiant. He knew that due to Holo's longevity, everything passed before her eyes in an instant. When they all left the association building like an old bandit gang, with the president in front and everyone with their own hatchet in hand, Lawrence spoke to Holo.
"I don't have much longer to live from your perspective, do I?"
Holo opened her eyes, and her expression hardened.
"I'll work as hard as physically possible. So try to smile as much as you can for me?"
Not for a routine where yesterday and today blended together, but for a special day that they could look back on and talk about fondly, where this happened and that happened.
Once he thought about it, Holo probably had her own reasons for suddenly leaving Nyohhira and accompanying him on this errand. Even in that ever-unchanging mountain village, Col left and Myuri followed after him. She might have sensed the approaching feeling of what would come next more strongly than Lawrence had.

Output:
And so would today's festival.
"You fool." Holo smiled as though she would cry and wrapped her hands around her face. "You are my better half. You must shine the brightest at the festival."
"Of course. The village is counting on me, too."
The more game he caught at this festival, the higher the association would rise in status.
In the end, Lawrence had no chances to find out what warriors these former mercenaries were before the event.
It would be difficult to win, but he had to stand his ground.
"I am with you."
"And I'm counting on you."
Lawrence rubbed her head through the hood-like cloth covering her. Then, when he nodded as a signal to go, she seemed as though she would say something else, but chose not to.
More importantly, the town had never been as congested, so there was no time for idle chatter.
They moved forward, Lawrence practically holding Holo so that her small frame would not be shoved around by the crowd.
When they finally reached the square, he was out of breath and felt hot from being jostled around.
"Well then, let's do it!"
The money changers, who had arrived just before them, were raising each other's spirits by striking their hatchets against one another's, in perhaps what was one of their rituals.
Around the outside of the fence, where he had worked so hard hammering in the posts, people were pushing to get closer. He did not know if the barrier was meant to keep in the roaming livestock or if it was to protect them from the crowd.
Inside the round barricade, there were gatherings on a straw mat that had been placed at a set distance away from the edge. That was where the representatives for each association were stationed. Everyone seemed to have done their best to gather young competitors, and Lawrence could not tell at a glance which group contained the mercenaries.
"They determine the winners by the weight of the meat, so instead of aiming for one big one, you have a better chance with two that are easier to capture."
The association president explained the rules to Lawrence as he handed him a club.
"You can also take your opponent's game! If you hit it once, they'll fall over, right? That's when people who aren't veterans wait for a response, and they waste time. Chase after the pigs and sheep with courage, and get them by jumping at them from behind!"
"Don't tackle or hit anyone, though. It'll be trouble later!"
"Let the game do everything for you. Sometimes, they will end up in the air, and it's acceptable if they hit someone else."
He meant that he should hit others with the game. Many town festivals were rough. Though they were getting on in years, the hot-blooded money changers seemed to be having a great old time. To protect himself, he carved their advice into his brain and took a deep breath.
The sky was clear, and he would surely be drenched in sweat if he moved around a lot. As he wondered how a bathhouse master like himself had ended up in a situation like this, a smile broke out on his face due to nerves.
"Oh, Mr. Millike, head of the council."
As Lawrence was thinking to himself, a float arrived in the square, and standing atop it was a man whose scarlet ceremonial mantle—the symbol of a person in power—fluttered in the wind. It was Jean Millike, the town leader, with whom Lawrence was acquainted. Lawrence could not hear his speech over the crowd's noise, but even if he had been next to Millike, it was likely impossible to hear it anyway. That was how busy it was.
Before long, Lawrence was able to see wagons packed with animals that would be set loose as game, and a nauseating anxiousness slowly rose in his stomach. His nature did not contain a predisposition for violence.
Ignoring the money changers, who were currently the spitting image of bandits, holding their hatchets, Lawrence gazed back over the fence.
There was Holo, and she gave him a wry smile.
"Begin!" someone yelled.


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

Input:
And so would today's festival.
"You fool." Holo smiled as though she would cry and wrapped her hands around her face. "You are my better half. You must shine the brightest at the festival."
"Of course. The village is counting on me, too."
The more game he caught at this festival, the higher the association would rise in status.
In the end, Lawrence had no chances to find out what warriors these former mercenaries were before the event.
It would be difficult to win, but he had to stand his ground.
"I am with you."
"And I'm counting on you."
Lawrence rubbed her head through the hood-like cloth covering her. Then, when he nodded as a signal to go, she seemed as though she would say something else, but chose not to.
More importantly, the town had never been as congested, so there was no time for idle chatter.
They moved forward, Lawrence practically holding Holo so that her small frame would not be shoved around by the crowd.
When they finally reached the square, he was out of breath and felt hot from being jostled around.
"Well then, let's do it!"
The money changers, who had arrived just before them, were raising each other's spirits by striking their hatchets against one another's, in perhaps what was one of their rituals.
Around the outside of the fence, where he had worked so hard hammering in the posts, people were pushing to get closer. He did not know if the barrier was meant to keep in the roaming livestock or if it was to protect them from the crowd.
Inside the round barricade, there were gatherings on a straw mat that had been placed at a set distance away from the edge. That was where the representatives for each association were stationed. Everyone seemed to have done their best to gather young competitors, and Lawrence could not tell at a glance which group contained the mercenaries.
"They determine the winners by the weight of the meat, so instead of aiming for one big one, you have a better chance with two that are easier to capture."
The association president explained the rules to Lawrence as he handed him a club.
"You can also take your opponent's game! If you hit it once, they'll fall over, right? That's when people who aren't veterans wait for a response, and they waste time. Chase after the pigs and sheep with courage, and get them by jumping at them from behind!"
"Don't tackle or hit anyone, though. It'll be trouble later!"
"Let the game do everything for you. Sometimes, they will end up in the air, and it's acceptable if they hit someone else."
He meant that he should hit others with the game. Many town festivals were rough. Though they were getting on in years, the hot-blooded money changers seemed to be having a great old time. To protect himself, he carved their advice into his brain and took a deep breath.
The sky was clear, and he would surely be drenched in sweat if he moved around a lot. As he wondered how a bathhouse master like himself had ended up in a situation like this, a smile broke out on his face due to nerves.
"Oh, Mr. Millike, head of the council."
As Lawrence was thinking to himself, a float arrived in the square, and standing atop it was a man whose scarlet ceremonial mantle—the symbol of a person in power—fluttered in the wind. It was Jean Millike, the town leader, with whom Lawrence was acquainted. Lawrence could not hear his speech over the crowd's noise, but even if he had been next to Millike, it was likely impossible to hear it anyway. That was how busy it was.
Before long, Lawrence was able to see wagons packed with animals that would be set loose as game, and a nauseating anxiousness slowly rose in his stomach. His nature did not contain a predisposition for violence.
Ignoring the money changers, who were currently the spitting image of bandits, holding their hatchets, Lawrence gazed back over the fence.
There was Holo, and she gave him a wry smile.
"Begin!" someone yelled.

Output:
They were bewildered, having suddenly been freed in a wide-open space, but upon seeing the angry waves of people, they dashed off. A young man ran as hard as he could to chase a sheep that was running in circles with all its might, but a pig slammed straight into his side. The crowd watched this and raised a loud shout.
The number of sheep and pigs in the enclosure grew, and there were some that were so confused that they simply stood still. Those poor, lost lambs were quickly taken and pulled away as soon as they froze.
Lawrence, too, jumped into the mayhem with determination.
Most of the sheep and pigs were, of course, mostly younger ones, not bigger, grown specimens. So even though there was no problem dragging their prey along or carrying them off, the animals were still energetic.
He first thought to knock them out with the club, but he understood immediately that there was no time for that.
So he threw himself at one that had stopped moving, grabbed it by the legs from behind, and held it up. "Baa! Baa! Oink! Oink!" came loud noises from all around him.
Lawrence carried the game back to their base, and the money changers took it from him.
He caught a second and then a third quite quickly, and as he caught his fourth, he took a nasty hit to the head and fell face-first into the mud. He felt a four-legged something walk over him and figured it must have been a pig.
Lawrence cleared his reeling head with a shake and jumped desperately toward a sheep that had fallen over like him and was wriggling on the ground. He pinned it like a beast that had forgotten how to speak, lifted it up with strength he was not even aware he had, and returned to their base as fast as he could. The old money changers, covered in blood from the butchering, yelled in exhilaration, and Lawrence threw the sheep to them before immediately turning on his heels.
Everyone running around the square was covered in mud, both people and animals. They were also all frantic.
Jump at anything with four legs, pin them, and carry it back. That was all he could think about in his strange euphoria, and his face smiled on its own. An energetic sheep shook off several men and broke away. The men, shaken off from its back and knocked away after attempts to stop it from the front, immediately rose from the mud and, becoming like mud dolls whose eyes only blazed white, howled in anger before chasing after their prey that got away.
Lawrence watched them and finally realized.
The Festival of the Dead.
That was exactly what it was.
"Number six!"
The old money changers cried in excitement. The meat was piled high on the mat, and the butcher boy who was weighing it had also become excited. It was probably more than some other mats.
"You just need to keep at it!" The association president himself yelled, also out of breath, and he was gripping the hatchet in his hand so hard that it was shaking.
Slaughtering animals was hard work.
"Leave it to me!"
Lawrence screamed in desperation and once again returned to the battlefield, but his body would not keep up. And it became increasingly clear that if this was a battle of endurance, then the four-legged ones were one step above the humans. He began to see that, covered in mud and full of fatigue, the ones who eventually began to totter like dead men staggered after the sheep and pigs, but could no longer keep up with them. There were also a few sneaky ones, who stood in their place and jumped at game that passed by them.
Amid it all, Lawrence jumped at one that had luckily stopped in front of him, picked it up, and dispelling his fatigue with a courageous shout, carried it back to the base.
Number seven. Number eight.
"Amazing! We can do this! We can win!" The association president excitedly encouraged him, and Lawrence turned away, grabbing a pig that had suddenly stopped as though something had caught its attention and carrying it to the base.
"Number nine! It's a miracle!"


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

Input:
They were bewildered, having suddenly been freed in a wide-open space, but upon seeing the angry waves of people, they dashed off. A young man ran as hard as he could to chase a sheep that was running in circles with all its might, but a pig slammed straight into his side. The crowd watched this and raised a loud shout.
The number of sheep and pigs in the enclosure grew, and there were some that were so confused that they simply stood still. Those poor, lost lambs were quickly taken and pulled away as soon as they froze.
Lawrence, too, jumped into the mayhem with determination.
Most of the sheep and pigs were, of course, mostly younger ones, not bigger, grown specimens. So even though there was no problem dragging their prey along or carrying them off, the animals were still energetic.
He first thought to knock them out with the club, but he understood immediately that there was no time for that.
So he threw himself at one that had stopped moving, grabbed it by the legs from behind, and held it up. "Baa! Baa! Oink! Oink!" came loud noises from all around him.
Lawrence carried the game back to their base, and the money changers took it from him.
He caught a second and then a third quite quickly, and as he caught his fourth, he took a nasty hit to the head and fell face-first into the mud. He felt a four-legged something walk over him and figured it must have been a pig.
Lawrence cleared his reeling head with a shake and jumped desperately toward a sheep that had fallen over like him and was wriggling on the ground. He pinned it like a beast that had forgotten how to speak, lifted it up with strength he was not even aware he had, and returned to their base as fast as he could. The old money changers, covered in blood from the butchering, yelled in exhilaration, and Lawrence threw the sheep to them before immediately turning on his heels.
Everyone running around the square was covered in mud, both people and animals. They were also all frantic.
Jump at anything with four legs, pin them, and carry it back. That was all he could think about in his strange euphoria, and his face smiled on its own. An energetic sheep shook off several men and broke away. The men, shaken off from its back and knocked away after attempts to stop it from the front, immediately rose from the mud and, becoming like mud dolls whose eyes only blazed white, howled in anger before chasing after their prey that got away.
Lawrence watched them and finally realized.
The Festival of the Dead.
That was exactly what it was.
"Number six!"
The old money changers cried in excitement. The meat was piled high on the mat, and the butcher boy who was weighing it had also become excited. It was probably more than some other mats.
"You just need to keep at it!" The association president himself yelled, also out of breath, and he was gripping the hatchet in his hand so hard that it was shaking.
Slaughtering animals was hard work.
"Leave it to me!"
Lawrence screamed in desperation and once again returned to the battlefield, but his body would not keep up. And it became increasingly clear that if this was a battle of endurance, then the four-legged ones were one step above the humans. He began to see that, covered in mud and full of fatigue, the ones who eventually began to totter like dead men staggered after the sheep and pigs, but could no longer keep up with them. There were also a few sneaky ones, who stood in their place and jumped at game that passed by them.
Amid it all, Lawrence jumped at one that had luckily stopped in front of him, picked it up, and dispelling his fatigue with a courageous shout, carried it back to the base.
Number seven. Number eight.
"Amazing! We can do this! We can win!" The association president excitedly encouraged him, and Lawrence turned away, grabbing a pig that had suddenly stopped as though something had caught its attention and carrying it to the base.
"Number nine! It's a miracle!"

Output:
There were great cheers from the other side of the fence, and he had felt as though he had become a hero on a battlefield. He boldly wiped his muddy face with his even muddier arm. Holo would definitely be happy to see him so valiant.
As he tried to search for Holo in the crowd, the sharp voice of the association president cut in.
"Mr. Lawrence, the game!"
A sheep had escaped near their base. The man that was chasing it fell dramatically from sheer fatigue. Lawrence, too, felt a similar exhaustion, but he stood up to catch the scampering sheep.
It immediately noticed him, and tilting its body, it changed directions. Though of course since it had run this far, he would catch it and win this fight.
Lawrence ran after the sheep with every last ounce of energy left in him and closed in on it. The ground felt unsteady. He was out of breath. The sheep's head hung low as it ran as fast as it could. He could see nothing but the sheep. Every single step he took felt like it lasted forever.
Only a bit more, but a bit more would not come. His prey was just far enough that it would get away if he jumped at it. But he could not get any closer. Then should he jump in a last act of desperation?
His lungs felt like they were burning, and his hands and feet did not feel like they were his own.
Everything depended on this!
It was the moment he deeply bent his knees.
The sheep suddenly stopped in shock and slipped onto its side.
Did it trip in the mud?! Whatever it was, now was his only chance!
Stirring his well-honed hunting skill to its limit, he leaped at the sheep. The later he made his next move, the harder it would be for him to stand. Urging his screaming limbs forward, he hoisted it up and walked off. Loud cheers came from the base. Though the money changers were also likely at their physical limit, they waved their hands in support. There were any number of things that were more difficult for merchants. Even that sentiment became his fuel, and he finally carried the sheep to the end.
Then, completely out of energy, Lawrence's knees gave in, and he stared up at the sky as he gasped for air.
He could not take another step. But was it not wonderful?
Among the townspeople who waved and applauded him on the other side of the fence, he found Holo.
It was right after he realized his misunderstanding.
"Did I not say I would be by your side?"
Though it was so noisy he could barely hear his own ragged breathing, he felt as though he could hear Holo's voice loud and clear. She smiled proudly at him because she was satisfied that she could work when the situation called for it.
Lawrence could only smile in defeat.
He was not particularly physically fit, nor was he particularly lucky. If he was having such an easy time, that meant there was something else at play. The silly sheep and pigs that had stopped right in front of him all did so because Holo had glared at them.
"There is work that is suitable for a weakling like me" was not a lie.
From meeting Holo up until now, Lawrence would never have gotten as far as he did by himself. There were times he held her small shoulders, and there were times he clung to the back of a literal huge wolf.
Lawrence spoke.
"It was worth all the tribute."
Holo smiled and moved her lips—"You fool."
The standoff with the butchers' association as well as the weighing of the meat began. The event officials presented each association's result as they finished measuring, and the crowd applauded and cheered. The mud- and blood-covered men of the blacksmiths' association placed their hands on their chests and bent their knees like nobility, earning the crowd's laughter.


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

Input:
There were great cheers from the other side of the fence, and he had felt as though he had become a hero on a battlefield. He boldly wiped his muddy face with his even muddier arm. Holo would definitely be happy to see him so valiant.
As he tried to search for Holo in the crowd, the sharp voice of the association president cut in.
"Mr. Lawrence, the game!"
A sheep had escaped near their base. The man that was chasing it fell dramatically from sheer fatigue. Lawrence, too, felt a similar exhaustion, but he stood up to catch the scampering sheep.
It immediately noticed him, and tilting its body, it changed directions. Though of course since it had run this far, he would catch it and win this fight.
Lawrence ran after the sheep with every last ounce of energy left in him and closed in on it. The ground felt unsteady. He was out of breath. The sheep's head hung low as it ran as fast as it could. He could see nothing but the sheep. Every single step he took felt like it lasted forever.
Only a bit more, but a bit more would not come. His prey was just far enough that it would get away if he jumped at it. But he could not get any closer. Then should he jump in a last act of desperation?
His lungs felt like they were burning, and his hands and feet did not feel like they were his own.
Everything depended on this!
It was the moment he deeply bent his knees.
The sheep suddenly stopped in shock and slipped onto its side.
Did it trip in the mud?! Whatever it was, now was his only chance!
Stirring his well-honed hunting skill to its limit, he leaped at the sheep. The later he made his next move, the harder it would be for him to stand. Urging his screaming limbs forward, he hoisted it up and walked off. Loud cheers came from the base. Though the money changers were also likely at their physical limit, they waved their hands in support. There were any number of things that were more difficult for merchants. Even that sentiment became his fuel, and he finally carried the sheep to the end.
Then, completely out of energy, Lawrence's knees gave in, and he stared up at the sky as he gasped for air.
He could not take another step. But was it not wonderful?
Among the townspeople who waved and applauded him on the other side of the fence, he found Holo.
It was right after he realized his misunderstanding.
"Did I not say I would be by your side?"
Though it was so noisy he could barely hear his own ragged breathing, he felt as though he could hear Holo's voice loud and clear. She smiled proudly at him because she was satisfied that she could work when the situation called for it.
Lawrence could only smile in defeat.
He was not particularly physically fit, nor was he particularly lucky. If he was having such an easy time, that meant there was something else at play. The silly sheep and pigs that had stopped right in front of him all did so because Holo had glared at them.
"There is work that is suitable for a weakling like me" was not a lie.
From meeting Holo up until now, Lawrence would never have gotten as far as he did by himself. There were times he held her small shoulders, and there were times he clung to the back of a literal huge wolf.
Lawrence spoke.
"It was worth all the tribute."
Holo smiled and moved her lips—"You fool."
The standoff with the butchers' association as well as the weighing of the meat began. The event officials presented each association's result as they finished measuring, and the crowd applauded and cheered. The mud- and blood-covered men of the blacksmiths' association placed their hands on their chests and bent their knees like nobility, earning the crowd's laughter.

Output:
"Wow, this has been much more than a normal year!"
The association president spoke, washing his face with hot water. A big company near the square opened up their loading area as a place for the participants to wash up and take a break. He washed every place on him he could with the hot water and made a toast with cold ale.
He sat in a chair there and faced the square, where the commotion beyond the crowd suggested they were still weighing.
"I wonder how much our opponents have caught."
"Yes, I wonder...We, too, were quite engrossed in our work."
He looked at Holo, sitting next to him, and she shrugged her shoulders.
"There were definitely some courageous ones."
"Well, since we did so much, even if we lost, I don't think there would be much of a gap between us. I first thought we would be dead last! Oh, it's all thanks to you, Mr. Lawrence. You've really helped us!"
He shook hands with everyone, including the president, for the hundredth time. He had not accomplished anything alone, but he was happy if he was of some help.
"Then what shall we do? After this, there will be more ceremonial things to do for the festival, and it won't be for a while until the meat is served. Well, they'll be serving this meat for some time starting today, so you may grow tired of it! Since that's the gist of it, why don't you go back to the building for a bit?"
Lawrence was not an association member. It would be out of place if he were present for the ceremonial proceedings.
He looked at Holo, wondering what she wanted to do, and she nodded.
"Then we will do just that."
"Please help yourself to any of the food and drink in the building! But just don't take too much money!"
Lawrence laughed in response to the unsubtle money changer–style joke, and he and Holo both stood up. As he did, his knees stiffened, and he wavered. Holo immediately supported her husband and directed a wry smile at him.
He felt as though he had aged fifty years in an instant.
"This is practice." Lawrence whispered to her, and realizing what he meant, Holo's face twitched as she tried to smile.
"But 'tis not for a while yet."
She sounded like she was scolding him.
"That's what I plan on."
When he moved his overworked and stiff body bit by bit, a modicum of flexibility came back to him. They used the back entrance of the company, and it was easier to walk on the side streets since there were few people.
As they walked down the quiet street, the tumult that had pierced his ears, sprinting for the first time in many years—it all felt like a distant dream.
It might have been because he was tired. Since no one was around, with his muddy body leaning against Holo, who did not seem to mind, he gave her a fawning kiss on the cheek.
"...You once had strange ideas in these back roads before, as well."
She was as harsh as always.
"I think it's because it feels like we're the only ones in the world."
"You fool."
She kicked him.
"And the work I did today. How was it? Did you see that I can do things when I need to? But when I thought that, I was really in the palm of your hand all along."
***
Lawrence spoke, facing straight ahead, and he could feel Holo's gaze on his cheek.
"When I first met you, I would have been frustrated...But today, I truly am happy. You're always teasing me, but you know exactly when to help me out."
He looked at her and smiled naturally.
She tightened her lips, then immediately looked away. She was unexpectedly shy.
"I thank you." But instead of teasing her, Lawrence spoke. He did not need to say anything else.
The two walked slowly through the back roads.
It was then Holo stopped.
"I, too, rely on you."
"It's an honor."
"And I believe that you rely on me, too."
Was this her complicated way of expressing herself?
Lawrence thought that for a moment but realized that was wrong. Something was odd about her.
"Holo?"
He called her name, and the ears under her hood visibly twitched.


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

Input:
"Wow, this has been much more than a normal year!"
The association president spoke, washing his face with hot water. A big company near the square opened up their loading area as a place for the participants to wash up and take a break. He washed every place on him he could with the hot water and made a toast with cold ale.
He sat in a chair there and faced the square, where the commotion beyond the crowd suggested they were still weighing.
"I wonder how much our opponents have caught."
"Yes, I wonder...We, too, were quite engrossed in our work."
He looked at Holo, sitting next to him, and she shrugged her shoulders.
"There were definitely some courageous ones."
"Well, since we did so much, even if we lost, I don't think there would be much of a gap between us. I first thought we would be dead last! Oh, it's all thanks to you, Mr. Lawrence. You've really helped us!"
He shook hands with everyone, including the president, for the hundredth time. He had not accomplished anything alone, but he was happy if he was of some help.
"Then what shall we do? After this, there will be more ceremonial things to do for the festival, and it won't be for a while until the meat is served. Well, they'll be serving this meat for some time starting today, so you may grow tired of it! Since that's the gist of it, why don't you go back to the building for a bit?"
Lawrence was not an association member. It would be out of place if he were present for the ceremonial proceedings.
He looked at Holo, wondering what she wanted to do, and she nodded.
"Then we will do just that."
"Please help yourself to any of the food and drink in the building! But just don't take too much money!"
Lawrence laughed in response to the unsubtle money changer–style joke, and he and Holo both stood up. As he did, his knees stiffened, and he wavered. Holo immediately supported her husband and directed a wry smile at him.
He felt as though he had aged fifty years in an instant.
"This is practice." Lawrence whispered to her, and realizing what he meant, Holo's face twitched as she tried to smile.
"But 'tis not for a while yet."
She sounded like she was scolding him.
"That's what I plan on."
When he moved his overworked and stiff body bit by bit, a modicum of flexibility came back to him. They used the back entrance of the company, and it was easier to walk on the side streets since there were few people.
As they walked down the quiet street, the tumult that had pierced his ears, sprinting for the first time in many years—it all felt like a distant dream.
It might have been because he was tired. Since no one was around, with his muddy body leaning against Holo, who did not seem to mind, he gave her a fawning kiss on the cheek.
"...You once had strange ideas in these back roads before, as well."
She was as harsh as always.
"I think it's because it feels like we're the only ones in the world."
"You fool."
She kicked him.
"And the work I did today. How was it? Did you see that I can do things when I need to? But when I thought that, I was really in the palm of your hand all along."
***
Lawrence spoke, facing straight ahead, and he could feel Holo's gaze on his cheek.
"When I first met you, I would have been frustrated...But today, I truly am happy. You're always teasing me, but you know exactly when to help me out."
He looked at her and smiled naturally.
She tightened her lips, then immediately looked away. She was unexpectedly shy.
"I thank you." But instead of teasing her, Lawrence spoke. He did not need to say anything else.
The two walked slowly through the back roads.
It was then Holo stopped.
"I, too, rely on you."
"It's an honor."
"And I believe that you rely on me, too."
Was this her complicated way of expressing herself?
Lawrence thought that for a moment but realized that was wrong. Something was odd about her.
"Holo?"
He called her name, and the ears under her hood visibly twitched.

Output:
An ambush? In an old habit from his trading days, he reflexively reached behind him in search of his short sword. But he had left it in the association building. And he was not left wanting for protection because Holo was by his side.
Was it a giant legendary bear that carried mountain ridges on his back, who could pick up the moon in his outstretched paw, that dared face a giant wolf who could swallow a person whole? Or...
"We do not intend you any harm."
The young man that appeared from around the corner of the alley spoke. Behind him, a meek-looking girl followed him.
The young man wore clothes that were covered in mud, and his short, golden hair was still wet as though he had just washed it. The girl's plain travel kit was dyed with blood. He knew almost immediately what exactly they had just been doing.
But what caught Lawrence's eye was the unique air about them.
Both he and Holo had lived a while and had grown accustomed to this feeling with experience.
The pair that confronted them were, without a doubt, not human.
"My name is Aram. This is my sister, Selim."
The boy called Aram inhaled deeply as though he was nervous. He held his breath and put his hand on the sword hilt hanging by his waist, which was the only thing not covered in mud.
"We were mercenaries in the south."
The blade of the sword slipped out of the sheath, and it glinted dully in the shadow of the back road.
One cannot even draw a longsword without practice. Lawrence could tell that Aram was not an ordinary swordsman by the way he unsheathed his weapon without hesitation and by his tempered body.
But he had been left speechless for a completely different reason.
It was why Lawrence ended up chasing after pigs and sheep in the mud. At the end of a road that led from Svernel, there would apparently be a new hot spring town. He heard that the hopeful newcomers were mercenaries from the south. In that case...
With the same elegance in which he unsheathed the sword, Aram removed the sheath from his waistband and crossed it with his sword at his feet. It was a sign of the utmost respect from mercenaries and knights. To his side, his sister, Selim, went to her knees.
Lawrence knew immediately that they did not have any harmful intentions, nor were they simple thieves, but he did not know their purpose.
Then, Aram fixed his eyes not on Lawrence, but Holo.
"We have come to see the long-lived, proud lord of wolves."
He spoke like a knight pledging his loyalty, but Holo was expressionless.
"I appreciate the flattery, but during the festival, you certainly held back when you noticed my presence. What is your purpose?"
He had wondered how the others were doing during the Festival of the Dead. When Lawrence asked her, she had not been clear when she said that there were some courageous ones. This is probably what she meant.
"...We had not realized that someone such as yourself was assisting the money changers' association until the middle of the festival. We failed to notice right away since there is the strong smell of sulfur about you."
Holo's expression finally shifted a little. Then, she sniffed her own shoulders and Lawrence's sleeves.
"You probably do not notice it yourself. That is how rooted you are to the land of Nyohhira."
If he had asked any of the townspeople who the strangers helping the money changers were, he would have found out immediately. Any person working in trade in Svernel, from craftsmen to merchants, knew that bathhouse masters from Nyohhira came to help around this time every year.
But Aram was probably surprised. There was a nonhuman among the villagers of Nyohhira. And her companion was a human male.
"And?" Holo asked innocently.
Aram and Selim were clearly the ones trying to start a new hot spring village. And now they were on their knees before Holo, offering the greatest form of respect. It was impossible that this was just a courtesy call.
Aram spoke.


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

Input:
An ambush? In an old habit from his trading days, he reflexively reached behind him in search of his short sword. But he had left it in the association building. And he was not left wanting for protection because Holo was by his side.
Was it a giant legendary bear that carried mountain ridges on his back, who could pick up the moon in his outstretched paw, that dared face a giant wolf who could swallow a person whole? Or...
"We do not intend you any harm."
The young man that appeared from around the corner of the alley spoke. Behind him, a meek-looking girl followed him.
The young man wore clothes that were covered in mud, and his short, golden hair was still wet as though he had just washed it. The girl's plain travel kit was dyed with blood. He knew almost immediately what exactly they had just been doing.
But what caught Lawrence's eye was the unique air about them.
Both he and Holo had lived a while and had grown accustomed to this feeling with experience.
The pair that confronted them were, without a doubt, not human.
"My name is Aram. This is my sister, Selim."
The boy called Aram inhaled deeply as though he was nervous. He held his breath and put his hand on the sword hilt hanging by his waist, which was the only thing not covered in mud.
"We were mercenaries in the south."
The blade of the sword slipped out of the sheath, and it glinted dully in the shadow of the back road.
One cannot even draw a longsword without practice. Lawrence could tell that Aram was not an ordinary swordsman by the way he unsheathed his weapon without hesitation and by his tempered body.
But he had been left speechless for a completely different reason.
It was why Lawrence ended up chasing after pigs and sheep in the mud. At the end of a road that led from Svernel, there would apparently be a new hot spring town. He heard that the hopeful newcomers were mercenaries from the south. In that case...
With the same elegance in which he unsheathed the sword, Aram removed the sheath from his waistband and crossed it with his sword at his feet. It was a sign of the utmost respect from mercenaries and knights. To his side, his sister, Selim, went to her knees.
Lawrence knew immediately that they did not have any harmful intentions, nor were they simple thieves, but he did not know their purpose.
Then, Aram fixed his eyes not on Lawrence, but Holo.
"We have come to see the long-lived, proud lord of wolves."
He spoke like a knight pledging his loyalty, but Holo was expressionless.
"I appreciate the flattery, but during the festival, you certainly held back when you noticed my presence. What is your purpose?"
He had wondered how the others were doing during the Festival of the Dead. When Lawrence asked her, she had not been clear when she said that there were some courageous ones. This is probably what she meant.
"...We had not realized that someone such as yourself was assisting the money changers' association until the middle of the festival. We failed to notice right away since there is the strong smell of sulfur about you."
Holo's expression finally shifted a little. Then, she sniffed her own shoulders and Lawrence's sleeves.
"You probably do not notice it yourself. That is how rooted you are to the land of Nyohhira."
If he had asked any of the townspeople who the strangers helping the money changers were, he would have found out immediately. Any person working in trade in Svernel, from craftsmen to merchants, knew that bathhouse masters from Nyohhira came to help around this time every year.
But Aram was probably surprised. There was a nonhuman among the villagers of Nyohhira. And her companion was a human male.
"And?" Holo asked innocently.
Aram and Selim were clearly the ones trying to start a new hot spring village. And now they were on their knees before Holo, offering the greatest form of respect. It was impossible that this was just a courtesy call.
Aram spoke.

Output:
Lawrence thought he saw Holo's tail puff up under her overcoat.
"We wish to create a place that we can come home to with our companions for hundreds of years to come."
The era of forests and spirits was gone, and nonhumans now felt small and inferior. On their journey some ten-odd years ago, to save their companions who were forced into nomadic wandering, they met a golden sheep that created a peaceful place for them to reside on the prairie. If they hid in the woods, there were roads. In the mountains, people built mines and cut them open to find coal. With no other choice, they may have decided to try to live in the human world, but a nonhuman would always be nonhuman.
So everyone had the thought of living in a remote place far removed from human civilization, doing modest work. For example, a merchant and the embodiment of a wolf running a bathhouse in Nyohhira.
"We've heard that the one next to you is the merchant that saved this town, who is now the master of the bathhouse Spice and Wolf. And it seems you have a deep relationship. If the God that humans worship does indeed exist, then this must be his will."
Lawrence listened to Aram speak and finally understood Holo's stiff expression.
He turned to him and spoke.
"To teach you how to manage your bathhouse?"
"Or..." Aram was not in the least bit daunted. "...To come live in our village."
He called it a village.
According to the money changers, there were no more than ten of them, and they wanted to construct a bathhouse out of the ruined monastery. Lawrence thought at first that they would live as hunters if they could not find any water, but they had meticulously laid the groundwork with the town's associations.
After doing all that and calling it a village, then that meant Aram's dream was much bigger than that.
"Your power and knowledge would be the strength of a hundred, no, a thousand people."
"We lived poorly as mercenaries in the southlands...To be more precise, we made our living by protecting small villages from outlaws who caused havoc during wartime."
Standing next to Aram, Selim spoke falteringly. She seemed more serious than Aram. Lawrence could sense her nunlike essence, the impression that she could work for two or three days straight without sleeping or saying a word. She appeared to be a bit older than Holo, but from all the trials she must have gone through, her weary expression made her look even more like an adult. Moreover, he was taken aback by her hands. They were indescribably rough, and not just because she had performed the butchering at the Festival of the Dead.
They were completely different from Holo's hands.
"It was a life that we, as your kindred, must be ashamed of."
This meant that Aram and Selim's companions, too, were wolves.
Holo must have known this already. Her expression did not change as she continued to stare at them.
"We do not know much about the human world. We have only somehow helped the companies in this town for now. My brother and I are the only ones who can speak the language of this region."
"You may find this foolish or even laugh at us."
Aram dropped his eyes to the sword and sheath crossed on the ground, then courageously raised his head.
"The world continues to change, and even our small reason to live crumbled before us. In the end, we barely managed to subsist on the embers of war. Then we were blessed with the chance to receive a special permit for this land, so we decided we had no choice but to place our hopes here, and so we came."
And it also seemed that they could obtain water from the ground, and there was even a monastery still standing.
So that was it.
Everyone in this world had their own circumstances.
"Are you...?" There, Holo butted in. "...Asking us to throw away the village we have made our home in?"
"We would ask nothing more should you come to move with us. But of course, we would also appreciate it if you simply helped us—"


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

Input:
Lawrence thought he saw Holo's tail puff up under her overcoat.
"We wish to create a place that we can come home to with our companions for hundreds of years to come."
The era of forests and spirits was gone, and nonhumans now felt small and inferior. On their journey some ten-odd years ago, to save their companions who were forced into nomadic wandering, they met a golden sheep that created a peaceful place for them to reside on the prairie. If they hid in the woods, there were roads. In the mountains, people built mines and cut them open to find coal. With no other choice, they may have decided to try to live in the human world, but a nonhuman would always be nonhuman.
So everyone had the thought of living in a remote place far removed from human civilization, doing modest work. For example, a merchant and the embodiment of a wolf running a bathhouse in Nyohhira.
"We've heard that the one next to you is the merchant that saved this town, who is now the master of the bathhouse Spice and Wolf. And it seems you have a deep relationship. If the God that humans worship does indeed exist, then this must be his will."
Lawrence listened to Aram speak and finally understood Holo's stiff expression.
He turned to him and spoke.
"To teach you how to manage your bathhouse?"
"Or..." Aram was not in the least bit daunted. "...To come live in our village."
He called it a village.
According to the money changers, there were no more than ten of them, and they wanted to construct a bathhouse out of the ruined monastery. Lawrence thought at first that they would live as hunters if they could not find any water, but they had meticulously laid the groundwork with the town's associations.
After doing all that and calling it a village, then that meant Aram's dream was much bigger than that.
"Your power and knowledge would be the strength of a hundred, no, a thousand people."
"We lived poorly as mercenaries in the southlands...To be more precise, we made our living by protecting small villages from outlaws who caused havoc during wartime."
Standing next to Aram, Selim spoke falteringly. She seemed more serious than Aram. Lawrence could sense her nunlike essence, the impression that she could work for two or three days straight without sleeping or saying a word. She appeared to be a bit older than Holo, but from all the trials she must have gone through, her weary expression made her look even more like an adult. Moreover, he was taken aback by her hands. They were indescribably rough, and not just because she had performed the butchering at the Festival of the Dead.
They were completely different from Holo's hands.
"It was a life that we, as your kindred, must be ashamed of."
This meant that Aram and Selim's companions, too, were wolves.
Holo must have known this already. Her expression did not change as she continued to stare at them.
"We do not know much about the human world. We have only somehow helped the companies in this town for now. My brother and I are the only ones who can speak the language of this region."
"You may find this foolish or even laugh at us."
Aram dropped his eyes to the sword and sheath crossed on the ground, then courageously raised his head.
"The world continues to change, and even our small reason to live crumbled before us. In the end, we barely managed to subsist on the embers of war. Then we were blessed with the chance to receive a special permit for this land, so we decided we had no choice but to place our hopes here, and so we came."
And it also seemed that they could obtain water from the ground, and there was even a monastery still standing.
So that was it.
Everyone in this world had their own circumstances.
"Are you...?" There, Holo butted in. "...Asking us to throw away the village we have made our home in?"
"We would ask nothing more should you come to move with us. But of course, we would also appreciate it if you simply helped us—"

Output:
"Holo."
The one who called her name was Lawrence.
Aram and Selim were certainly their competitors, but it was easy to see that they had their own circumstances. And like Holo, they were not human. More importantly—they were wolves. There was no mistaking that they were more similar to Holo than the people of Nyohhira.
Though at the same time, it was likely for that very reason she treated them so coldly.
If she sympathized with them just a little bit, if she opened her heart to them, then she would have no choice but to help them. And that would be treason against Nyohhira.
Holo was an alien existence, whose true identity had to be hidden from the villagers of Nyohhira. She was indebted to Lawrence more than he knew.
But Lawrence spoke to her.
"We can't just decide on an answer to their proposal like that."
He was talking about how this would affect her far into the future, something that coincided with their fundamental problem.
That reason was...
"Lady Holo."
Aram, still on his knees, drew closer.
"Please, think about it. What you have now will not last forever."
They were mercenaries who came from the south and had barely scraped by.
As it stood, Aram's dauntless expression was much too direct.
In the world, there were things that, however right, should not be said.
Lawrence realized his mistake in not conveying those words.
"...So what if it's true?" Holo's voice was cold to its core. "What does that have to do with you?"
"Holo..."
"Answer me!"
A wise man once said that no happy story lasted forever. One day, Lawrence would die, and only Holo would live on. In response to that, Lawrence found the answer together with Holo. They both decided to put on a brave show, saying, So what?
Holo grasped Lawrence's arms. She gripped so hard that it hurt.
"I was once called the wisewolf, but that is the past. I suggest you try someone else."
He could hear her heart slam shut.
Holo began to walk off, and she forcefully pulled on his arm. Her threatening attitude was almost as though she had kicked away the sword and sheath Aram had laid out in respect.
When they passed Aram, his expression was one of shock. He most likely had not thought Holo would grow angry at hearing his reasoning. Lawrence thought that he had such a straightforward nature that one did not often see in the human world.
But one could not live in this world with a purely straightforward manner. There were few, rare places that had straight roads—only found in towns protected by high walls.
"Holo."
When they could not see Aram or Selim anymore, Lawrence called her name, but she did not stop walking.
"Holo— Hey, Holo!"
His back and legs still hurt, and he instead pulled on her arm. Her power was only that of a girl when she held this form.
And her slim body could not protect her soft heart.
Holo turned to face him, and she was crying. How she had so forcefully pulled him away was only a show.
"I—I...You..."
"I know. You don't have to say any more."
Lawrence hesitated for a moment, since his clothes were muddy, but he ended up pulling the sobbing Holo into his arms. She clung to him, not caring that her face would be covered in mud. He rubbed her back—comforting her small, helpless form.
Embracing her as she cried, he rested his back against the wall and looked up.
Wedged among the tall buildings, the sky above him looked small and distant from the narrow path.
He knew that they were the foolish ones.
He suddenly noticed someone enter his field of vision and looked in that direction. There was Selim, so bewildered that she seemed to be suffering. She did not try to come too close and looked at Lawrence. He shook his head slightly.


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

Input:
"Holo."
The one who called her name was Lawrence.
Aram and Selim were certainly their competitors, but it was easy to see that they had their own circumstances. And like Holo, they were not human. More importantly—they were wolves. There was no mistaking that they were more similar to Holo than the people of Nyohhira.
Though at the same time, it was likely for that very reason she treated them so coldly.
If she sympathized with them just a little bit, if she opened her heart to them, then she would have no choice but to help them. And that would be treason against Nyohhira.
Holo was an alien existence, whose true identity had to be hidden from the villagers of Nyohhira. She was indebted to Lawrence more than he knew.
But Lawrence spoke to her.
"We can't just decide on an answer to their proposal like that."
He was talking about how this would affect her far into the future, something that coincided with their fundamental problem.
That reason was...
"Lady Holo."
Aram, still on his knees, drew closer.
"Please, think about it. What you have now will not last forever."
They were mercenaries who came from the south and had barely scraped by.
As it stood, Aram's dauntless expression was much too direct.
In the world, there were things that, however right, should not be said.
Lawrence realized his mistake in not conveying those words.
"...So what if it's true?" Holo's voice was cold to its core. "What does that have to do with you?"
"Holo..."
"Answer me!"
A wise man once said that no happy story lasted forever. One day, Lawrence would die, and only Holo would live on. In response to that, Lawrence found the answer together with Holo. They both decided to put on a brave show, saying, So what?
Holo grasped Lawrence's arms. She gripped so hard that it hurt.
"I was once called the wisewolf, but that is the past. I suggest you try someone else."
He could hear her heart slam shut.
Holo began to walk off, and she forcefully pulled on his arm. Her threatening attitude was almost as though she had kicked away the sword and sheath Aram had laid out in respect.
When they passed Aram, his expression was one of shock. He most likely had not thought Holo would grow angry at hearing his reasoning. Lawrence thought that he had such a straightforward nature that one did not often see in the human world.
But one could not live in this world with a purely straightforward manner. There were few, rare places that had straight roads—only found in towns protected by high walls.
"Holo."
When they could not see Aram or Selim anymore, Lawrence called her name, but she did not stop walking.
"Holo— Hey, Holo!"
His back and legs still hurt, and he instead pulled on her arm. Her power was only that of a girl when she held this form.
And her slim body could not protect her soft heart.
Holo turned to face him, and she was crying. How she had so forcefully pulled him away was only a show.
"I—I...You..."
"I know. You don't have to say any more."
Lawrence hesitated for a moment, since his clothes were muddy, but he ended up pulling the sobbing Holo into his arms. She clung to him, not caring that her face would be covered in mud. He rubbed her back—comforting her small, helpless form.
Embracing her as she cried, he rested his back against the wall and looked up.
Wedged among the tall buildings, the sky above him looked small and distant from the narrow path.
He knew that they were the foolish ones.
He suddenly noticed someone enter his field of vision and looked in that direction. There was Selim, so bewildered that she seemed to be suffering. She did not try to come too close and looked at Lawrence. He shook his head slightly.

Output:
Lawrence rubbed Holo's back once more before patting it lightly.
"Holo, nothing will get done like this."
His words were convincing, since he was once a merchant who could not make money if he was unable to walk forward.
"Let's go back to the room for now. Then..."
Then?
He was afraid to continue his sentence, but he could count on Holo, and she was relying on him.
Unflinching, he spoke.
"Then, let's think properly, without looking away."
Holo did not say anything.
But when Lawrence slowly opened his arms, Holo backed away herself.
Unwittingly he smiled, as her face was completely covered in mud.
"If anyone saw you now, I don't think they'd imagine you were once called the wisewolf."
Holo hiccupped and furiously wiped her face on her sleeve, then balled her hand into a fist and punched him once in the stomach.
Then with the same hand, she grasped Lawrence's. She was much more girl-like than the tomboyish Myuri.
"Cheer up. They said we could take any food or drink we wanted back at the association."
Holo sniffled and head-butted his shoulder.
"Fool."
She still sounded like she was crying, but she was all right for now if she was insulting him.
There was a strong bond between himself and Holo.
It would turn out all right, and they would see to it that it did.
When they entered the main street from the back road, like a suggestion of something, the warmth of the sun greeted them.
The money changers' association building was silent.
During the festivals, there were no large transactions between companies, but travelers and craftsmen who were taking off work came and went to and from town with change. The money changers, who were closing big deals and exchanges in the big hall all up until yesterday put their scales together and headed out into town.
And since the square was open after the Festival of the Dead and all the people suddenly gathered there, the district itself was quiet. It felt as though the sun had come out during the nighttime.
"Phew, I'm alive again. It really is a Festival of the Dead."
He was covered in mud from the top of his head to underneath his fingernails, and standing naked, he could see that there were big bruises all over his body.
He had the appearance of the dead during the festival, but there was no mistaking that the one who had come up with the name of the festival named it for this exact phrase Lawrence uttered after bathing.
"Have you calmed down, too?"
Holo's face was streaked with mud and tears. And since she had hugged him, her clothes had gotten dirty, too. She looked just like a girl who had fallen face-first into a muddy road and cried all the way home. The boys who stayed behind seemed more concerned for Holo than Lawrence, who had participated in the festival.
***
With hot water, she washed her face, her hands, then changed her clothes, and sat silently in the corner of the bed.
She had not even touched the alcohol and the snacks that the boys prepared for them.
"Well...It was sudden. And he was as straightforward as a knight on horseback."
With such excellent swordsmanship, Aram had made a living guarding a village.
Surely, he would hesitate to use his power against others. Lawrence had a feeling that what he was protecting was also a poor village that no one would bother to help. If that was the case, then Lawrence also felt that the ones left behind working on the monastery ruins were much the same—honest folk who would have trouble living in today's world.
"Everyone knows what's right. Drink alcohol in moderation, use discretion when you talk, work hard, be gentle to the weak. And occasionally, pray to God."
As Lawrence talked, he walked over to the desk and picked up the leather mug. It was a proud, stiff leather that was to be expected from a town that flourished as a distribution channel of furs and amber for a long time, and it could even be used for weapons. There was wine inside. He poured some into an even smaller tin cup and held it out to Holo.


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

Input:
Lawrence rubbed Holo's back once more before patting it lightly.
"Holo, nothing will get done like this."
His words were convincing, since he was once a merchant who could not make money if he was unable to walk forward.
"Let's go back to the room for now. Then..."
Then?
He was afraid to continue his sentence, but he could count on Holo, and she was relying on him.
Unflinching, he spoke.
"Then, let's think properly, without looking away."
Holo did not say anything.
But when Lawrence slowly opened his arms, Holo backed away herself.
Unwittingly he smiled, as her face was completely covered in mud.
"If anyone saw you now, I don't think they'd imagine you were once called the wisewolf."
Holo hiccupped and furiously wiped her face on her sleeve, then balled her hand into a fist and punched him once in the stomach.
Then with the same hand, she grasped Lawrence's. She was much more girl-like than the tomboyish Myuri.
"Cheer up. They said we could take any food or drink we wanted back at the association."
Holo sniffled and head-butted his shoulder.
"Fool."
She still sounded like she was crying, but she was all right for now if she was insulting him.
There was a strong bond between himself and Holo.
It would turn out all right, and they would see to it that it did.
When they entered the main street from the back road, like a suggestion of something, the warmth of the sun greeted them.
The money changers' association building was silent.
During the festivals, there were no large transactions between companies, but travelers and craftsmen who were taking off work came and went to and from town with change. The money changers, who were closing big deals and exchanges in the big hall all up until yesterday put their scales together and headed out into town.
And since the square was open after the Festival of the Dead and all the people suddenly gathered there, the district itself was quiet. It felt as though the sun had come out during the nighttime.
"Phew, I'm alive again. It really is a Festival of the Dead."
He was covered in mud from the top of his head to underneath his fingernails, and standing naked, he could see that there were big bruises all over his body.
He had the appearance of the dead during the festival, but there was no mistaking that the one who had come up with the name of the festival named it for this exact phrase Lawrence uttered after bathing.
"Have you calmed down, too?"
Holo's face was streaked with mud and tears. And since she had hugged him, her clothes had gotten dirty, too. She looked just like a girl who had fallen face-first into a muddy road and cried all the way home. The boys who stayed behind seemed more concerned for Holo than Lawrence, who had participated in the festival.
***
With hot water, she washed her face, her hands, then changed her clothes, and sat silently in the corner of the bed.
She had not even touched the alcohol and the snacks that the boys prepared for them.
"Well...It was sudden. And he was as straightforward as a knight on horseback."
With such excellent swordsmanship, Aram had made a living guarding a village.
Surely, he would hesitate to use his power against others. Lawrence had a feeling that what he was protecting was also a poor village that no one would bother to help. If that was the case, then Lawrence also felt that the ones left behind working on the monastery ruins were much the same—honest folk who would have trouble living in today's world.
"Everyone knows what's right. Drink alcohol in moderation, use discretion when you talk, work hard, be gentle to the weak. And occasionally, pray to God."
As Lawrence talked, he walked over to the desk and picked up the leather mug. It was a proud, stiff leather that was to be expected from a town that flourished as a distribution channel of furs and amber for a long time, and it could even be used for weapons. There was wine inside. He poured some into an even smaller tin cup and held it out to Holo.

Output:
Holo did not look at him, but she took the cup as though accepting his words.
"Aram and his companions will start business at their bathhouses with all who are not human. And their neighbors will grow, and before long, they will show off their village...Just thinking about it makes it sound like a fairy tale."
Nyohhira, too, was often called uncharted territory, the boundary line between this world and heaven, but this was different. If a guest woke up in the middle of the night, they would surely find wolves and sheep, rabbits and foxes in the village square instead, drinking the night away.
There was likely a very good reason that those sorts of fairy tales still existed here and there today.
"Hey, Holo."
He called out to her, and she looked up, startled. They were about to peel back the bandages that covered the wounds they pretended not to see. As she tried to stand up, forgetting she was holding her drink, Lawrence held her back with his hand.
"First, let's say that helping Aram would mean betraying Nyohhira."
Holo knew well that Lawrence was trying his hardest to fit in with the village. She also knew that it was incredibly difficult, since even though the people of Nyohhira had no malicious intent, they still always treated him like an outsider, like a newcomer. And she knew that even still, Lawrence purely and simply loved their home and offered his expertise at every opportunity so that the entire village would prosper.
And within it, only Holo would be giving up their knowledge to the enemies of Nyohhira.
All the while living comfortably in Nyohhira.
"I think that's fine."
"...But..."
"I'm a merchant."
Lawrence smiled wryly, and it caught her off guard.
"I'm used to dealing with all kinds of people. Subtle communication is my specialty."
If he could not do two completely different things at the same time, as if there were two of him, he could not be a businessperson.
Take for example, a transaction. While he must be cautious that the other would not outsmart him, or set him up in a trap, or commit fraud, he had to place his trust in the other party somehow and shake on it or the deal would not go through.
What's more, while still doubting the other, he would even sometimes truly enjoy drinking with them after the deal was finished. And finally, the following day, he would continue doing business, still suspicious.
That was that. This was this.
"Even if you worked with Aram and the others, I would not interpret that as you trying to inflict losses on Nyohhira directly. That's more than enough for an excuse. And I don't think it's bad if good competition shows up. Working at the bathhouse there I always think—it's been too peaceful for hundreds of years. Our neighbors lack a sense of danger."
Though he had suggested several things to bring customers in the spring and fall when all the guests leave, his seniors had shown that they at least wanted to rest during that season.
As Lawrence spent most his time in the village, the laid-back atmosphere was beginning to infect him.
But if there was outside competition, they might wake from their slumber.
"Because of that, if you were to help Aram, then of course I would help you, but that would be unforgivable to the other bathhouse owners...Well, at least a bit. I'll just shrug my shoulders, since there's nothing that can be done."
He knew it was being unfaithful. But if they had bigger plans than this, then he was prepared to gracefully accept the sins as an apostate.
"And that's not what you're most worried about, is it?"
Holo pursed her lips, as though reopening an old wound.
"I should have said it before Aram did."
What she had now would not last forever.
They both knew and decided to go through it as though they did not notice.
"You can't stay in Nyohhira forever. You can only fool them for so long about why you don't age. After everyone has died out, could you continue to live as a thankless guardian spirit like you once did in the wheat fields of Pasloe?"


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

Input:
Holo did not look at him, but she took the cup as though accepting his words.
"Aram and his companions will start business at their bathhouses with all who are not human. And their neighbors will grow, and before long, they will show off their village...Just thinking about it makes it sound like a fairy tale."
Nyohhira, too, was often called uncharted territory, the boundary line between this world and heaven, but this was different. If a guest woke up in the middle of the night, they would surely find wolves and sheep, rabbits and foxes in the village square instead, drinking the night away.
There was likely a very good reason that those sorts of fairy tales still existed here and there today.
"Hey, Holo."
He called out to her, and she looked up, startled. They were about to peel back the bandages that covered the wounds they pretended not to see. As she tried to stand up, forgetting she was holding her drink, Lawrence held her back with his hand.
"First, let's say that helping Aram would mean betraying Nyohhira."
Holo knew well that Lawrence was trying his hardest to fit in with the village. She also knew that it was incredibly difficult, since even though the people of Nyohhira had no malicious intent, they still always treated him like an outsider, like a newcomer. And she knew that even still, Lawrence purely and simply loved their home and offered his expertise at every opportunity so that the entire village would prosper.
And within it, only Holo would be giving up their knowledge to the enemies of Nyohhira.
All the while living comfortably in Nyohhira.
"I think that's fine."
"...But..."
"I'm a merchant."
Lawrence smiled wryly, and it caught her off guard.
"I'm used to dealing with all kinds of people. Subtle communication is my specialty."
If he could not do two completely different things at the same time, as if there were two of him, he could not be a businessperson.
Take for example, a transaction. While he must be cautious that the other would not outsmart him, or set him up in a trap, or commit fraud, he had to place his trust in the other party somehow and shake on it or the deal would not go through.
What's more, while still doubting the other, he would even sometimes truly enjoy drinking with them after the deal was finished. And finally, the following day, he would continue doing business, still suspicious.
That was that. This was this.
"Even if you worked with Aram and the others, I would not interpret that as you trying to inflict losses on Nyohhira directly. That's more than enough for an excuse. And I don't think it's bad if good competition shows up. Working at the bathhouse there I always think—it's been too peaceful for hundreds of years. Our neighbors lack a sense of danger."
Though he had suggested several things to bring customers in the spring and fall when all the guests leave, his seniors had shown that they at least wanted to rest during that season.
As Lawrence spent most his time in the village, the laid-back atmosphere was beginning to infect him.
But if there was outside competition, they might wake from their slumber.
"Because of that, if you were to help Aram, then of course I would help you, but that would be unforgivable to the other bathhouse owners...Well, at least a bit. I'll just shrug my shoulders, since there's nothing that can be done."
He knew it was being unfaithful. But if they had bigger plans than this, then he was prepared to gracefully accept the sins as an apostate.
"And that's not what you're most worried about, is it?"
Holo pursed her lips, as though reopening an old wound.
"I should have said it before Aram did."
What she had now would not last forever.
They both knew and decided to go through it as though they did not notice.
"You can't stay in Nyohhira forever. You can only fool them for so long about why you don't age. After everyone has died out, could you continue to live as a thankless guardian spirit like you once did in the wheat fields of Pasloe?"

Output:
"You are my most beloved. But..."
No matter what, he hesitated to say it. But keeping quiet here would indeed be a betrayal to his love.
"...You're not human. With the long time you have left, you should live with Aram and the others."
Holo looked up.
As she opened her lips, they trembled.
"But 'tis...'Tis as though I am preparing for your death..."
"That's right. That's what it is. I've already mostly practiced for your funeral. And now it's your turn."
Before the astonished Holo could say anything in response, Lawrence reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
"I know we promised that until the time comes, we would act like this relationship would last forever. But after we slept on the riverbank of time, a boat came. You wouldn't lose anything if you caught hold for now to reach the other side in the far, far future."
Lawrence smiled bitterly, because as he gazed at Holo, she seemed to look at him as though she were watching him die now.
He stooped before her, below her eye line.
"You're the wife of a merchant and you should act like one."
***
"It's insurance. Before you go on an adventure where you might lose everything, you prepare for when you've lost everything. But if you truly did not want to lose anything, then not venturing out into danger would be the perfect insurance. Long ago, you wanted to choose the latter."
Saying goodbye before the parting became too painful.
"But that way, you would miss out on the profits you might gain. Okay, let's say you help Aram and the others, and their business is going well. Let's say you could live rather peacefully with others who have the same long life span as you. Think about it. Because you all know about each other, if you wanted to keep Spice and Wolf, then you can ask for their help and keep it after my death. If you come and go between Nyohhira and Aram's bathhouse every thirty years or so, then the people of Nyohhira would be none the wiser, and you could keep that up forever. Of course...as long as you aren't wasteful and let it go bankrupt, that is."
He smiled mischievously, and Holo, looking down at him, was caught in a fit of laughter.
"You fool..."
"I don't think it's a bad idea. There's no loss for anyone. Well, we do need to keep some secrets while we rival Aram's bathhouse and the people of Nyohhira are racking their brains."
Lawrence took Holo's hand and shook it a bit in encouragement.
"For you, I think it's okay to go against God's teachings, just a little bit."
Holo's smile looked pained because Lawrence was trying so hard to make a joke, so she forced herself to smile even more.
But that was enough. Even if it was forced at first, soon they would get used to it and then finally accept it.
If they decided to fight against the providence of the world, he had to give at least that much effort.
"Okay?"
Lawrence looked up at Holo, and she seemed like she would close her eyes, but she did not.
"We'll help Aram and Selim. You should be friendlier toward them."
And after this entire conversation, Holo finally made a displeased expression, and Lawrence could not help but laugh.
"You're rather shy around strangers."
"Wha—?" Holo gulped, and with a sudden fierce look in her eyes, she glared at Lawrence. "I am only prideful!"
She unfurled her fist and with a smack, she hit Lawrence's cheek.
He reached out for her hand that had struck him.
Holo was indeed glaring down at him in anger, but her tail was making a slight thumping sound as it wagged.
"That's true, too."
He took the cup she was holding and set it at his feet.
He rose up to Holo's eye level and wrapped his arms around her.
"Because you're a princess."
"...A wisewolf, you fool."
Holo would always be Holo. When he let his guard down, she would knock him down instead. It was then that Lawrence realized he had forgotten to close the wooden window, but today was the festival. It was not too much of a problem.
He could see the clear sky through the open window.


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

Input:
"You are my most beloved. But..."
No matter what, he hesitated to say it. But keeping quiet here would indeed be a betrayal to his love.
"...You're not human. With the long time you have left, you should live with Aram and the others."
Holo looked up.
As she opened her lips, they trembled.
"But 'tis...'Tis as though I am preparing for your death..."
"That's right. That's what it is. I've already mostly practiced for your funeral. And now it's your turn."
Before the astonished Holo could say anything in response, Lawrence reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
"I know we promised that until the time comes, we would act like this relationship would last forever. But after we slept on the riverbank of time, a boat came. You wouldn't lose anything if you caught hold for now to reach the other side in the far, far future."
Lawrence smiled bitterly, because as he gazed at Holo, she seemed to look at him as though she were watching him die now.
He stooped before her, below her eye line.
"You're the wife of a merchant and you should act like one."
***
"It's insurance. Before you go on an adventure where you might lose everything, you prepare for when you've lost everything. But if you truly did not want to lose anything, then not venturing out into danger would be the perfect insurance. Long ago, you wanted to choose the latter."
Saying goodbye before the parting became too painful.
"But that way, you would miss out on the profits you might gain. Okay, let's say you help Aram and the others, and their business is going well. Let's say you could live rather peacefully with others who have the same long life span as you. Think about it. Because you all know about each other, if you wanted to keep Spice and Wolf, then you can ask for their help and keep it after my death. If you come and go between Nyohhira and Aram's bathhouse every thirty years or so, then the people of Nyohhira would be none the wiser, and you could keep that up forever. Of course...as long as you aren't wasteful and let it go bankrupt, that is."
He smiled mischievously, and Holo, looking down at him, was caught in a fit of laughter.
"You fool..."
"I don't think it's a bad idea. There's no loss for anyone. Well, we do need to keep some secrets while we rival Aram's bathhouse and the people of Nyohhira are racking their brains."
Lawrence took Holo's hand and shook it a bit in encouragement.
"For you, I think it's okay to go against God's teachings, just a little bit."
Holo's smile looked pained because Lawrence was trying so hard to make a joke, so she forced herself to smile even more.
But that was enough. Even if it was forced at first, soon they would get used to it and then finally accept it.
If they decided to fight against the providence of the world, he had to give at least that much effort.
"Okay?"
Lawrence looked up at Holo, and she seemed like she would close her eyes, but she did not.
"We'll help Aram and Selim. You should be friendlier toward them."
And after this entire conversation, Holo finally made a displeased expression, and Lawrence could not help but laugh.
"You're rather shy around strangers."
"Wha—?" Holo gulped, and with a sudden fierce look in her eyes, she glared at Lawrence. "I am only prideful!"
She unfurled her fist and with a smack, she hit Lawrence's cheek.
He reached out for her hand that had struck him.
Holo was indeed glaring down at him in anger, but her tail was making a slight thumping sound as it wagged.
"That's true, too."
He took the cup she was holding and set it at his feet.
He rose up to Holo's eye level and wrapped his arms around her.
"Because you're a princess."
"...A wisewolf, you fool."
Holo would always be Holo. When he let his guard down, she would knock him down instead. It was then that Lawrence realized he had forgotten to close the wooden window, but today was the festival. It was not too much of a problem.
He could see the clear sky through the open window.

Output:
From an observer's point of view, the other party was aligned against the money changers' association and Nyohhira. If Lawrence and Holo went to see them in the open, it would get complicated if someone saw.
So, Lawrence used a convenient intermediary.
"When you two appear, I get nervous that some sort of commotion will happen again."
When they entered the waiting room meant for guests of nobility, the master of the town, Jean Millike, spoke with a grimace.
"Sorry for intruding at such a busy time."
"It truly is busy, but if the hidden leading figure of this town came with a wolf and told me to throw open the gates, I would have no choice."
Millike sat on a red-cushioned chair and gave a big sigh. He was not so much displeased as he was fatigued. In the commotion of the festival, it was so hectic as to be incredibly taxing, like trying to stir a giant pot of stew with many ingredients in it.
"But I did not expect to see you participate in the Festival of the Dead. I had not realized."
The crowd was huge, and it seemed they had masked their wolf scent with sulfur.
"The money changers did get the most meat in the end."
They had lived up to the reputation. Lawrence, wanting to share his happiness with Holo, looked beside him, but she was indifferent. Since she had helped, that result was to be expected, seemed to be Holo's thoughts on the matter, and she merely munched on the sugared flowers that Millike offered them. She had just been crying, so her mouth likely felt salty.
"And your request—it was to summon the ones who have the special permit to settle the old monastery ruins, right?" Millike asked, and as Lawrence was about to nod, he leaned forward, as though trying to rein in his guest.
"Are you sure this won't cause trouble?"
Millike had been worried about this since they came.
Ten-some years ago, Lawrence and his companions were involved in a huge commotion and came to this town on a sliver of hope. There was no mistaking that to Millike, who was dragged into it, it felt like the whole disaster had been pushed onto him.
Though it had somehow turned out all right, the grudge he still held against them was eight-parts-out-of-ten justified.
"It's to make sure there won't be any trouble, actually."
"Hmm?"
Millike seemed doubtful, but Holo, happily eating a purple flower covered in sugar, butted in as she licked her fingers. "Why did you hide them from us? Or why did you hide us from them? Such honest people must have come to greet you, the master of this town, first. You should have known."
They were not pressuring words, and Millike only slightly raised an eyebrow.
"Right. They were worried if their moldy permit was still valid. They came to confirm that as well."
"So you did not tell them, then, that there is a wolf in Nyohhira, though they say they wish to make bathhouses."
Millike stared at Holo, as though trying to feel out her true intentions. Holo, instead, did not seem to mind and happily returned enthusiastically to eating the fancy candied, sugar-coated flowers.
In the end, Millike sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"There are two reasons."
Then, he sat up and took a piece of candy from the ever-decreasing pile.
"First, my wish is to maintain the development of this town. If it works for the town, then it works for me."
The money changers' association president had explained that they would gain more profits if there were two hot spring villages.
"Second, they reminded me of you two from those ten-odd years ago."
"In that terrible a state?" Lawrence asked, and Millike shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"At first glance, they're clinging to outrageous dreams, and they haven't done enough prior preparations, if you know what I mean."
Jean Millike had always been harsh.


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

Input:
From an observer's point of view, the other party was aligned against the money changers' association and Nyohhira. If Lawrence and Holo went to see them in the open, it would get complicated if someone saw.
So, Lawrence used a convenient intermediary.
"When you two appear, I get nervous that some sort of commotion will happen again."
When they entered the waiting room meant for guests of nobility, the master of the town, Jean Millike, spoke with a grimace.
"Sorry for intruding at such a busy time."
"It truly is busy, but if the hidden leading figure of this town came with a wolf and told me to throw open the gates, I would have no choice."
Millike sat on a red-cushioned chair and gave a big sigh. He was not so much displeased as he was fatigued. In the commotion of the festival, it was so hectic as to be incredibly taxing, like trying to stir a giant pot of stew with many ingredients in it.
"But I did not expect to see you participate in the Festival of the Dead. I had not realized."
The crowd was huge, and it seemed they had masked their wolf scent with sulfur.
"The money changers did get the most meat in the end."
They had lived up to the reputation. Lawrence, wanting to share his happiness with Holo, looked beside him, but she was indifferent. Since she had helped, that result was to be expected, seemed to be Holo's thoughts on the matter, and she merely munched on the sugared flowers that Millike offered them. She had just been crying, so her mouth likely felt salty.
"And your request—it was to summon the ones who have the special permit to settle the old monastery ruins, right?" Millike asked, and as Lawrence was about to nod, he leaned forward, as though trying to rein in his guest.
"Are you sure this won't cause trouble?"
Millike had been worried about this since they came.
Ten-some years ago, Lawrence and his companions were involved in a huge commotion and came to this town on a sliver of hope. There was no mistaking that to Millike, who was dragged into it, it felt like the whole disaster had been pushed onto him.
Though it had somehow turned out all right, the grudge he still held against them was eight-parts-out-of-ten justified.
"It's to make sure there won't be any trouble, actually."
"Hmm?"
Millike seemed doubtful, but Holo, happily eating a purple flower covered in sugar, butted in as she licked her fingers. "Why did you hide them from us? Or why did you hide us from them? Such honest people must have come to greet you, the master of this town, first. You should have known."
They were not pressuring words, and Millike only slightly raised an eyebrow.
"Right. They were worried if their moldy permit was still valid. They came to confirm that as well."
"So you did not tell them, then, that there is a wolf in Nyohhira, though they say they wish to make bathhouses."
Millike stared at Holo, as though trying to feel out her true intentions. Holo, instead, did not seem to mind and happily returned enthusiastically to eating the fancy candied, sugar-coated flowers.
In the end, Millike sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"There are two reasons."
Then, he sat up and took a piece of candy from the ever-decreasing pile.
"First, my wish is to maintain the development of this town. If it works for the town, then it works for me."
The money changers' association president had explained that they would gain more profits if there were two hot spring villages.
"Second, they reminded me of you two from those ten-odd years ago."
"In that terrible a state?" Lawrence asked, and Millike shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"At first glance, they're clinging to outrageous dreams, and they haven't done enough prior preparations, if you know what I mean."
Jean Millike had always been harsh.

Output:
"We met them just now, and they were a real nuisance."
As though satisfied with the sugared candy for now, Holo sipped the hot tea boiled from the flowers' leaves. She had sworn at Lawrence once, asking him if there was any point to a drink such as tea if she could not get drunk from it, but she seemed to like its fragrance.
Svernel was much richer than he thought. All the things they had been given out of hospitality were imports from the south—things one would expect to see in the mansions of aristocrats.
"It was too much of a pain if it made you think I sent that nuisance in your direction. And I thought it would be wiser for you to eventually meet naturally at some point."
There was a wariness in his eyes that suited him. Impressed, Lawrence nodded.
"But if you chanced upon each other, then that surely wasn't it. Why must I call on them for you? Are you sure this won't become a problem?"
Millike frowned and Lawrence looked at him, about to explain the situation. Though he remembered that Holo began to cry then and how little time had passed since they talked after returning to the room, he was troubled as to how to explain it well.
"Well, that's, actually..."
When he stumbled over his words, Holo spoke.
"The moment we met them, all they did was ask for help. We could not answer at the time, so we returned to our inn and discussed it for a while. By then, the opportunity had passed."
She was not lying, but it was incredibly far from the truth.
As Holo coolly sipped her tea, Lawrence remained impressed.
"And the result?"
Millike implied that he wanted to be informed ahead of time if they wanted to go through him. Lawrence signaled Holo with his eyes, and she snorted, uninterested.
"We shall help them. There are times I wish to spend some time away from this one."
If Lawrence said, That's my line! then she would likely not talk to him for three days and three nights.
"If that's the case, then all right."
Millike breathed a sigh of relief and directed his gaze toward the open wood window.
"I am of the same opinion."
"Huh?"
Lawrence was surprised, and Millike narrowed his eyes as though he was looking at a dunce.
"I've been here for a long time. It's about time I open this town again."
Jean Millike was a name passed down to him by the previous leader of the town. He was also a lord that had another name of Havlish. What he might do was feign illness and withdraw to his territory, then publicly die from illness, then return as some relative who inherited all his domain and power. There were times among the noble class where they would place siblings and close relatives far away to protect their bloodline. Since it was quite a common practice, no one would question it.
And there was even a place nearby for him to hide, so it was no problem.
"'Tis fine since you have your beard. I could never hide my beautiful face. 'Tis actually quite troublesome."
***
When helping with Aram's bathhouse, someone who was not human would understand in an instant how it would be used. But it was unfortunate that Lawrence, a human, could not fit in that circle.
Even so, Lawrence thought, it seemed Holo and Millike got along surprisingly well. Even after he died, or even if Myuri decided to settle down somewhere on her journey, perhaps Holo would not have to end up tending to her tail all alone.
"Anyway, I'll go ahead and call them in, all right?"
"Yes, please. If the townspeople found out we were communicating with them, it might cause some problems down the road."
"How very merchant-like of you."
Millike sighed and rang a small bell on the table. There immediately was a knock at the door, and in came a boy wearing well-starched clothes. Millike told him to fetch Aram, and the boy bowed respectfully before leaving the room.
"What's wrong?" Millike asked him with a questioning glance, as Lawrence watched the scene carefully.
"Oh no...I was just thinking, what a good boy he is."