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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man sounded like someone who was staunch in his obligations. Lawrence was about to nod, impressed, but he paused. "Um... But I have heard that things are going relatively well with deer hunting and related crafts." Surely, they could manage, even without the hatchery. Sulto looked at Lawrence, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You heard correctly. It's always Lord Rahden who is helping us, so we started searching in earnest for industry that could replace the hatchery long before there had been any signs of illness among the fish. And thank God, when the Vallan Bishopric, on the other side of the mountain, started growing again, that caused many deer to appear around the village. Our livelihoods are now supported by venison, deer hides, and leather straps." The Vallan Bishopric had once been developed as a mine and had gone bare. But Tanya, the squirrel spirit, had worked hard to replant the trees in the forest and life had returned to the area. Lawrence, a former merchant who brought distant lands together, was delighted to learn of the link between these two places. He quietly reminded himself to tell Tanya what had happened. "That is why we believe God was the one who brought this opportunity to him. This will allow him to be away and take a break from work in the village for a while, and his faith has been recognized to the point where he can be formally recognized as a bishop. We urged him to take it on. But he said no, that he cannot be away from the village while the hatchery's future remains uncertain. Perhaps it's because we are too inexperienced." "So, is this a loan to help revitalize the hatchery?" Sulto did not nod in confirmation, nor did he deny the statement. "We want enough money that Lord Rahden can leave the village with peace of mind." *** The mayor likely thought that revitalizing the trout hatchery was going to be difficult. Due to the nature of it being a pond, all the fish within the hatchery would be lost in an instant at the first signs of disease, so it was also likely that he thought it would be best not to rely so much on it in the future. But Lawrence was painfully understanding of their motives. He did not even need to look at Holo to know that the villagers were only acting with Rahden's best interests in mind. He understood why Elsa wanted to help, and also why the Salonia church was looking for a reason to lend a hand. On the other hand, the truth remained that he was not sure under what pretext the church should lend them money. In truth, it would be best if they could borrow money from one of the companies in town, but if they got wind that it was so Rahden could become a bishop, then any company would rightfully think twice. The biggest issue was the current trend: the scrutiny under which the Church existed grew harsher day by day. And it was very likely that the amount of money they were asking for was enough to hold sway over the entire operations of the village, so that was another reason to step back. Lending money to someone in power was a move that required courage, because there was no guarantee that they would pay the money back. Those related to the Church especially stood out; they could easily insist it was considered a donation, and the money would never be returned. If there was anyone who could help, it would be the Church, but if records showed that the village leader became a bishop soon after receiving the money, then others would likely point out that it was corrupt money meant for bribery. On the surface, there was every indication of something shady going on. "Well, Mister Lawrence? All of us here at the Salonia church would like to help the people of the Rahden Bishopric in any way we can," the bishop said, turning his attention to Lawrence. "When I asked Pastor Elsa if we might be able to secure your help in the matter, she said that you would be willing so long as there is no corruption at play."

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

The man sounded like someone who was staunch in his obligations. Lawrence was about to nod, impressed, but he paused. "Um... But I have heard that things are going relatively well with deer hunting and related crafts." Surely, they could manage, even without the hatchery. Sulto looked at Lawrence, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You heard correctly. It's always Lord Rahden who is helping us, so we started searching in earnest for industry that could replace the hatchery long before there had been any signs of illness among the fish. And thank God, when the Vallan Bishopric, on the other side of the mountain, started growing again, that caused many deer to appear around the village. Our livelihoods are now supported by venison, deer hides, and leather straps." The Vallan Bishopric had once been developed as a mine and had gone bare. But Tanya, the squirrel spirit, had worked hard to replant the trees in the forest and life had returned to the area. Lawrence, a former merchant who brought distant lands together, was delighted to learn of the link between these two places. He quietly reminded himself to tell Tanya what had happened. "That is why we believe God was the one who brought this opportunity to him. This will allow him to be away and take a break from work in the village for a while, and his faith has been recognized to the point where he can be formally recognized as a bishop. We urged him to take it on. But he said no, that he cannot be away from the village while the hatchery's future remains uncertain. Perhaps it's because we are too inexperienced." "So, is this a loan to help revitalize the hatchery?" Sulto did not nod in confirmation, nor did he deny the statement. "We want enough money that Lord Rahden can leave the village with peace of mind." *** The mayor likely thought that revitalizing the trout hatchery was going to be difficult. Due to the nature of it being a pond, all the fish within the hatchery would be lost in an instant at the first signs of disease, so it was also likely that he thought it would be best not to rely so much on it in the future. But Lawrence was painfully understanding of their motives. He did not even need to look at Holo to know that the villagers were only acting with Rahden's best interests in mind. He understood why Elsa wanted to help, and also why the Salonia church was looking for a reason to lend a hand. On the other hand, the truth remained that he was not sure under what pretext the church should lend them money. In truth, it would be best if they could borrow money from one of the companies in town, but if they got wind that it was so Rahden could become a bishop, then any company would rightfully think twice. The biggest issue was the current trend: the scrutiny under which the Church existed grew harsher day by day. And it was very likely that the amount of money they were asking for was enough to hold sway over the entire operations of the village, so that was another reason to step back. Lending money to someone in power was a move that required courage, because there was no guarantee that they would pay the money back. Those related to the Church especially stood out; they could easily insist it was considered a donation, and the money would never be returned. If there was anyone who could help, it would be the Church, but if records showed that the village leader became a bishop soon after receiving the money, then others would likely point out that it was corrupt money meant for bribery. On the surface, there was every indication of something shady going on. "Well, Mister Lawrence? All of us here at the Salonia church would like to help the people of the Rahden Bishopric in any way we can," the bishop said, turning his attention to Lawrence. "When I asked Pastor Elsa if we might be able to secure your help in the matter, she said that you would be willing so long as there is no corruption at play."

"By corruption, you ultimately mean...that no record should remain of the church directly lending money to the village, correct?" "Yes. It sounds like a bad thing when you put it that way, but—" "No, I understand. Just because facial hair is natural does not mean we should not be diligent in shaving. Ledgers are much the same." Elsa looked terribly troubled, as though she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not, but the bishop smiled gleefully. "If you would please, then, Mister Lawrence." "Of course. I can't guarantee I will have a plan for you, but I am willing to help if you're happy with what wisdom I can offer. I feel like this may be a problem that a money order could solve." "Ohh!" A broad smile crossed the bishop's face, and Sulto stood with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm just musing aloud here. It's not like I've come up with a way to fix this yet," Lawrence hurriedly said as a disclaimer in response to their delight. He had to make sure there was no direct line between the village and the church while still being honest about where the money was going. There were several things a merchant could do at a time like this, but they would take a little work. "Oh yes, of course. But you are Lawrence! The one who magicked all the debt away in town! I believe you will be able to come up with something for us, too." The bishop's flattery brought a smile to Lawrence's face. "We must inform the rest of the villagers right away. They must be beside themselves with nerves," Sulto said, rounding the table to firmly grasp both of Lawrence's hands and bow to Holo. But unease suddenly came over Lawrence as he watched the mayor. Though he had said he would take on the job, he had a feeling he was missing something. He was not nervous about how the money would get lent—nothing as technical as that. It was as though he was missing something even more fundamental... Though the thoughts churned in his head, he could not think of anything. With a nettled feeling in his chest, he watched as Sulto moved to exit the room. It happened as he placed his hand on the door. "Hmm?" Holo hummed. A moment later, they heard excited voices coming from the hallway. Sulto curiously pressed his ear to the door and glanced back at Lawrence and Holo. But it seemed he knew what was going on. "The villagers sound excited. I should go quiet them right awa—" He only managed to say that much. "Wait!" "Please wait!" They heard shouting from the hall. "Please wait, Lord Rahden!" Lawrence's eyes widened just as the door flung open. "Lord Rahden?!" Sulto was the first to speak up, and it was then that Lawrence realized what he had overlooked. He had come to learn of how the village in the Rahden Bishopric came to be, how it was faring in the present moment, Sulto and the other villagers' motives, and their passionate feelings for Rahden. But there was one thing that never came up. And that was what Rahden himself thought. "Sulto! Why did you leave me behind in the village?!" His voice was as loud as a mountain bear; he was no old hermit who spent his days in contemplation and prayer. Though his clothes resembled those of a monk, his head was shaved, and his wrinkles were so deep they seemed to be carved into his skin; he was so stout that he looked like a towering tree that had grown legs and started walking. His thick hands, the kind that were only found on those who toiled hard for years on end, were a testament to how tirelessly he had worked. Rahden seemed much less like a fervent clergyman and more like a dutiful artisan who prioritized human feelings and relationships. The man had complicated emotions coloring his face—ones that made him seem desperate to scream, but also desperate to cry—as he untangled himself from the villagers who tried to stop him. "Lord Rahden! Why are you—?" As Sulto began to speak, a young boy peeked out from beside the furious Rahden. "Granddad! You can't hold talks without Lord Rahden!" "Baum! Did you bring him here?!"

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

"By corruption, you ultimately mean...that no record should remain of the church directly lending money to the village, correct?" "Yes. It sounds like a bad thing when you put it that way, but—" "No, I understand. Just because facial hair is natural does not mean we should not be diligent in shaving. Ledgers are much the same." Elsa looked terribly troubled, as though she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not, but the bishop smiled gleefully. "If you would please, then, Mister Lawrence." "Of course. I can't guarantee I will have a plan for you, but I am willing to help if you're happy with what wisdom I can offer. I feel like this may be a problem that a money order could solve." "Ohh!" A broad smile crossed the bishop's face, and Sulto stood with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm just musing aloud here. It's not like I've come up with a way to fix this yet," Lawrence hurriedly said as a disclaimer in response to their delight. He had to make sure there was no direct line between the village and the church while still being honest about where the money was going. There were several things a merchant could do at a time like this, but they would take a little work. "Oh yes, of course. But you are Lawrence! The one who magicked all the debt away in town! I believe you will be able to come up with something for us, too." The bishop's flattery brought a smile to Lawrence's face. "We must inform the rest of the villagers right away. They must be beside themselves with nerves," Sulto said, rounding the table to firmly grasp both of Lawrence's hands and bow to Holo. But unease suddenly came over Lawrence as he watched the mayor. Though he had said he would take on the job, he had a feeling he was missing something. He was not nervous about how the money would get lent—nothing as technical as that. It was as though he was missing something even more fundamental... Though the thoughts churned in his head, he could not think of anything. With a nettled feeling in his chest, he watched as Sulto moved to exit the room. It happened as he placed his hand on the door. "Hmm?" Holo hummed. A moment later, they heard excited voices coming from the hallway. Sulto curiously pressed his ear to the door and glanced back at Lawrence and Holo. But it seemed he knew what was going on. "The villagers sound excited. I should go quiet them right awa—" He only managed to say that much. "Wait!" "Please wait!" They heard shouting from the hall. "Please wait, Lord Rahden!" Lawrence's eyes widened just as the door flung open. "Lord Rahden?!" Sulto was the first to speak up, and it was then that Lawrence realized what he had overlooked. He had come to learn of how the village in the Rahden Bishopric came to be, how it was faring in the present moment, Sulto and the other villagers' motives, and their passionate feelings for Rahden. But there was one thing that never came up. And that was what Rahden himself thought. "Sulto! Why did you leave me behind in the village?!" His voice was as loud as a mountain bear; he was no old hermit who spent his days in contemplation and prayer. Though his clothes resembled those of a monk, his head was shaved, and his wrinkles were so deep they seemed to be carved into his skin; he was so stout that he looked like a towering tree that had grown legs and started walking. His thick hands, the kind that were only found on those who toiled hard for years on end, were a testament to how tirelessly he had worked. Rahden seemed much less like a fervent clergyman and more like a dutiful artisan who prioritized human feelings and relationships. The man had complicated emotions coloring his face—ones that made him seem desperate to scream, but also desperate to cry—as he untangled himself from the villagers who tried to stop him. "Lord Rahden! Why are you—?" As Sulto began to speak, a young boy peeked out from beside the furious Rahden. "Granddad! You can't hold talks without Lord Rahden!" "Baum! Did you bring him here?!"

Lawrence had completely forgotten to ask what Rahden thought of them borrowing money to give him peace of mind. But the answer to that question was rather obvious. "I understand you are the mayor, Sulto, but you were specifically instructed not to ask!" "B-but, Lord Rahden! We were simply thinking of you and—" "No, I've had enough of your impertinent talk! We are going back to the village, Sulto! The fishes are waiting for us!" "Lord Rahden, please, listen! We came here because we are concerned for you and the village!" The villagers tried to push Rahden back, but one twist of the waist and one grab of the arm had a grown man pulled into the air and tossed around like a cat. Sulto was on the verge of tears; the boy, Baum, had raised his flag of rebellion against Sulto and the other villagers and brought Rahden to Salonia to fight alongside him. The smooth-talking bishop was bewildered, and Holo was smiling in amusement at the sudden commotion. What is going on? Lawrence sighed. "Stop this at once!" Hands slammed onto the table with a loud bang. Everyone turned to look at Elsa—her brows knitted upward in rage. "This is a church! A house of God! Under no circumstances will you cause a commotion in here!" Her power was enough to make her fringe shudder; it surely came from constantly scolding three boys and a husband at home. Rahden's, Sulto's and of course Baum's eyes widened. All the villagers reacted the same. "Do you not understand that God is always watching?! Have you no shame?!" Her reprimand was like a lash of a whip, and all the men drew up their shoulders at once. The only sound in the quiet hall was Holo cackling quietly. "Father, please show Mayor Sulto and the rest of the villagers to another room." Sulto was about to protest, but when Elsa planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, he shrunk down like a little boy. "Lord Rahden, and...young Baum. Stay here with me." Rahden and Baum were certainly far enough apart to be grandfather and grandson, but the way they exchanged glances made them seem like friends. "Come on! The rest of you, get to work!" Elsa's command spurred the people into motion like a herd of sheep. Sulto looked back at Rahden with regret, and though Rahden realized what was going on, he made no move to meet the man's gaze. The manner in which Elsa brought the drink and poured some for everyone made it clear that she had hurt her throat raising her voice that way. Rahden struggled to squeeze his large frame into a chair and remained silent as he peered into his cup. "My name is Kraft Lawrence," Lawrence first introduced himself. And as he thought, Rahden, being the frank man he was, lifted his head. "...Rahden." His reply was brief. "That's an unusual name. Is it your family name, or...?" "Lord Rahden's just Lord Rahden," the boy Baum interjected. "My name's Baum. Sulto's my granddad." Holo took a liking to the fearless Baum in the blink of an eye. She smiled with delight when he turned to Elsa and asked, "Don't I get any wine?" and Elsa scolded him. "So, Mister Lawrence, are you on my granddad's side?" The boy got straight to the point. Though he was the mayor's grandson, he was going against his will. "I'm on no one's side right now." "But weren't you cozying up with the church and going to do exactly what my granddad said just now?" "I was going to, only because he asked, but this situation seems a little more complicated than that. I want to hear what you two have to say. That's why we had Mayor Sulto and the others leave." Baum stared hard at Lawrence before scoffing and looking away. "Was the mayor trying to borrow money from the church?" Rahden finally asked, and Lawrence nodded in response. "Was this not a unanimous decision in the village?" *** Rahden fell silent, and Baum spoke up instead. "Everyone besides Lord Rahden and people like me who are on Lord Rahden's side agreed with borrowing money." Lawrence got a general sense of where things stood in the village.

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

Lawrence had completely forgotten to ask what Rahden thought of them borrowing money to give him peace of mind. But the answer to that question was rather obvious. "I understand you are the mayor, Sulto, but you were specifically instructed not to ask!" "B-but, Lord Rahden! We were simply thinking of you and—" "No, I've had enough of your impertinent talk! We are going back to the village, Sulto! The fishes are waiting for us!" "Lord Rahden, please, listen! We came here because we are concerned for you and the village!" The villagers tried to push Rahden back, but one twist of the waist and one grab of the arm had a grown man pulled into the air and tossed around like a cat. Sulto was on the verge of tears; the boy, Baum, had raised his flag of rebellion against Sulto and the other villagers and brought Rahden to Salonia to fight alongside him. The smooth-talking bishop was bewildered, and Holo was smiling in amusement at the sudden commotion. What is going on? Lawrence sighed. "Stop this at once!" Hands slammed onto the table with a loud bang. Everyone turned to look at Elsa—her brows knitted upward in rage. "This is a church! A house of God! Under no circumstances will you cause a commotion in here!" Her power was enough to make her fringe shudder; it surely came from constantly scolding three boys and a husband at home. Rahden's, Sulto's and of course Baum's eyes widened. All the villagers reacted the same. "Do you not understand that God is always watching?! Have you no shame?!" Her reprimand was like a lash of a whip, and all the men drew up their shoulders at once. The only sound in the quiet hall was Holo cackling quietly. "Father, please show Mayor Sulto and the rest of the villagers to another room." Sulto was about to protest, but when Elsa planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, he shrunk down like a little boy. "Lord Rahden, and...young Baum. Stay here with me." Rahden and Baum were certainly far enough apart to be grandfather and grandson, but the way they exchanged glances made them seem like friends. "Come on! The rest of you, get to work!" Elsa's command spurred the people into motion like a herd of sheep. Sulto looked back at Rahden with regret, and though Rahden realized what was going on, he made no move to meet the man's gaze. The manner in which Elsa brought the drink and poured some for everyone made it clear that she had hurt her throat raising her voice that way. Rahden struggled to squeeze his large frame into a chair and remained silent as he peered into his cup. "My name is Kraft Lawrence," Lawrence first introduced himself. And as he thought, Rahden, being the frank man he was, lifted his head. "...Rahden." His reply was brief. "That's an unusual name. Is it your family name, or...?" "Lord Rahden's just Lord Rahden," the boy Baum interjected. "My name's Baum. Sulto's my granddad." Holo took a liking to the fearless Baum in the blink of an eye. She smiled with delight when he turned to Elsa and asked, "Don't I get any wine?" and Elsa scolded him. "So, Mister Lawrence, are you on my granddad's side?" The boy got straight to the point. Though he was the mayor's grandson, he was going against his will. "I'm on no one's side right now." "But weren't you cozying up with the church and going to do exactly what my granddad said just now?" "I was going to, only because he asked, but this situation seems a little more complicated than that. I want to hear what you two have to say. That's why we had Mayor Sulto and the others leave." Baum stared hard at Lawrence before scoffing and looking away. "Was the mayor trying to borrow money from the church?" Rahden finally asked, and Lawrence nodded in response. "Was this not a unanimous decision in the village?" *** Rahden fell silent, and Baum spoke up instead. "Everyone besides Lord Rahden and people like me who are on Lord Rahden's side agreed with borrowing money." Lawrence got a general sense of where things stood in the village.

"That's why you rushed here on horseback?" "Exactly. Lord Rahden can't ride a horse alone, you see." The image of Baum taking the reins and Rahden sitting behind him was a rather strange one, but it brought a slight smile to Lawrence's face. "Please pretend all this talk about a loan never happened," Rahden said. "The village has never needed a loan. It will not need any in the future." "But Sulto said that you expressed some worries about the village's prospects in the future. He wants to borrow money to ease your worries." *** Rahden fell silent. "Are you worried because the hatchery isn't doing so well?" Rahden made no motion to confirm or deny Lawrence's question, only stared into his cup. "I think the hatchery didn't succeed because of the tanning," Baum interjected, his voice scarcely containing his annoyance. "We just need to stop tanning hides. Then we can let fish into the pond. Village goes back to normal." There was no doubt that the tanning process could pollute the water. Lawrence glanced over at Holo because he thought investigating whether or not the tanning process was the cause was an option. But Rahden turned to look at Baum and said, "The tanning has nothing to do with this. The water sources are clearly separated." "But—" Baum was about to argue, but Rahden's look was enough for him to keep quiet. "I am worried," Rahden turned to look back at Lawrence. "The deer hunting is...not sustainable. I want to reestablish the hatchery in the village." His unaffected language made him sound like a tree spirit. But a being who was one with nature currently sitting beside Lawrence seemed to twitch her ears ever so slightly under her hood. "And I am not suited to becoming a bishop." "Are you sure about that?" It was Elsa who spoke this time. "From what I have heard, you are more like a bishop than a great many who already wear the robes of one." She sounded like she was stating an obvious fact—black was black, white was white—and it was oddly convincing. Rahden was about to say something, but he eventually decided not to. Elsa seemed slightly annoyed with him for a moment before continuing, "I have often been asked to manage the ledgers in churches across the area. Every bishop in every church I've visited has an impressive work history, but none have devoted themselves to studying the scripture, and they are all careless with money. I have always thought that such people need to be removed and replaced with bishops who are truly faithful." Elsa's words caused Rahden to close his eyes with a wry smile. "I know you are staunchly faithful," he said. "To hear that from you is a relief. It tells me that I have lived my life the way I should." Though appearances made him seem as though he approached every problem with brute strength, his word choice made him sound like a genuine bishop. "I am simply being honest," Elsa said. Rahden's eyes snapped open and he turned to Baum, almost as though he was trying to avoid the problem. "Everyone is overestimating me." "Lord Rahden..." There was a hint of frustration in Baum's voice, and Rahden sighed. "Sir Lawrence, was it? My name is Rahden. Just Rahden. I left my hometown when I was young, around Baum's age. It's been about forty years now. All those who knew my real name have likely departed this world by now." Years of hard labor outside had left their mark on his skin—giving it a particular leathery quality created by the tanning process that was sweat, dust, and the sun. Rahden's bald head and hands were the same; he looked down at his hands as he continued. "My home is the poor village of Rahdelli. You've heard of it, haven't you?" Lawrence found himself unconsciously holding his breath when Rahden mentioned the place. "I have, yes, but...are you really from that far away?" Holo turned to look up at Lawrence, her head tilted.

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

"That's why you rushed here on horseback?" "Exactly. Lord Rahden can't ride a horse alone, you see." The image of Baum taking the reins and Rahden sitting behind him was a rather strange one, but it brought a slight smile to Lawrence's face. "Please pretend all this talk about a loan never happened," Rahden said. "The village has never needed a loan. It will not need any in the future." "But Sulto said that you expressed some worries about the village's prospects in the future. He wants to borrow money to ease your worries." *** Rahden fell silent. "Are you worried because the hatchery isn't doing so well?" Rahden made no motion to confirm or deny Lawrence's question, only stared into his cup. "I think the hatchery didn't succeed because of the tanning," Baum interjected, his voice scarcely containing his annoyance. "We just need to stop tanning hides. Then we can let fish into the pond. Village goes back to normal." There was no doubt that the tanning process could pollute the water. Lawrence glanced over at Holo because he thought investigating whether or not the tanning process was the cause was an option. But Rahden turned to look at Baum and said, "The tanning has nothing to do with this. The water sources are clearly separated." "But—" Baum was about to argue, but Rahden's look was enough for him to keep quiet. "I am worried," Rahden turned to look back at Lawrence. "The deer hunting is...not sustainable. I want to reestablish the hatchery in the village." His unaffected language made him sound like a tree spirit. But a being who was one with nature currently sitting beside Lawrence seemed to twitch her ears ever so slightly under her hood. "And I am not suited to becoming a bishop." "Are you sure about that?" It was Elsa who spoke this time. "From what I have heard, you are more like a bishop than a great many who already wear the robes of one." She sounded like she was stating an obvious fact—black was black, white was white—and it was oddly convincing. Rahden was about to say something, but he eventually decided not to. Elsa seemed slightly annoyed with him for a moment before continuing, "I have often been asked to manage the ledgers in churches across the area. Every bishop in every church I've visited has an impressive work history, but none have devoted themselves to studying the scripture, and they are all careless with money. I have always thought that such people need to be removed and replaced with bishops who are truly faithful." Elsa's words caused Rahden to close his eyes with a wry smile. "I know you are staunchly faithful," he said. "To hear that from you is a relief. It tells me that I have lived my life the way I should." Though appearances made him seem as though he approached every problem with brute strength, his word choice made him sound like a genuine bishop. "I am simply being honest," Elsa said. Rahden's eyes snapped open and he turned to Baum, almost as though he was trying to avoid the problem. "Everyone is overestimating me." "Lord Rahden..." There was a hint of frustration in Baum's voice, and Rahden sighed. "Sir Lawrence, was it? My name is Rahden. Just Rahden. I left my hometown when I was young, around Baum's age. It's been about forty years now. All those who knew my real name have likely departed this world by now." Years of hard labor outside had left their mark on his skin—giving it a particular leathery quality created by the tanning process that was sweat, dust, and the sun. Rahden's bald head and hands were the same; he looked down at his hands as he continued. "My home is the poor village of Rahdelli. You've heard of it, haven't you?" Lawrence found himself unconsciously holding his breath when Rahden mentioned the place. "I have, yes, but...are you really from that far away?" Holo turned to look up at Lawrence, her head tilted.

"Ha-ha, I do remember that myth." In order to reach Rahdelli from Salonia, one had to head west and then take a boat from there. It was entirely possible to travel partway on foot, but crossing the steep mountain range that blocked the way made it a life-threatening journey. In one way or another, it would take at least three months to get there—six, in a worst-case scenario. One would have to go to the southernmost point of the continent, and then once one encountered the warm, glittering seas there, one would have to take a boat across several islands to reach the opposite coast. It was so far that Lawrence had only ever heard of its name. "Rahdelli... Is that why you're named Rahden?" Lawrence was certain that no one would ever find anyone else from Rahdelli in this area. There was no way Rahden would ever find someone who would know his real name, which is why he had taken on the name of his homeland. He understood that mindset after living on the road for so long. "My village was run-down, dying. And the warm seas were full of sharks, so we could never catch enough fish. We...well, I'm not sure how you'd say it up here, but we made our living by searching for treasures in the sea. We rarely found any; maybe once a year. We were like pirates." Treasures that could be found in the sea were typically amber that washed up on the beach after a storm, but when Rahden said they were pirates, Lawrence wondered if he commanded a famous group or something. "After three years with no harvest, my village fell apart. I was all alone by that point, so I felt drawn by the land across the sea and wanted to see what was beyond. I got onto a trading vessel as a rower. I was strong enough after searching for sea jewels, so they put me to good use." Rowing a ship was hard labor often used as punishment. That must have been what gave Rahden his physique. "I went from ship to ship and eventually found myself in a cold land. The war between the Church and the northern pagans was at its peak then, and every boat had fervent clergy aboard. That was when I learned of God's teachings." "Is that when you came to the area?" Lawrence asked. "Hmm? Oh, yes. My master...I suppose you could call him that—I stuck right by his side and made my way to the site of the battle. But things were in a horrible state back then, and I couldn't move past this place. I couldn't abandon all the people I saw fleeing the very place we were headed for." Rahden himself had left a destroyed village, so perhaps he found it even more difficult to leave them. "When I left my master's side, he secured me all the privileges for the land where the village currently sits as a parting gift. He was charismatic enough to convert a bird with his sermons, so I suppose it was easy for him." Realizing that it was not Rahden who had obtained the land originally brought Lawrence some relief. "I decided I was going to live out my days here. I decided I was going to make this a home for people who had lost their own homes. I vowed to give my all to this place, so I dug up a puddle that had been filled with leaves and built a pond." "Why a pond?" Holo asked, almost in spite of herself. Lawrence agreed. He also wanted to know why he had decided to build a fish hatchery. A bashful look crossed Rahden's face. "Because of the first passage I memorized from the scripture. God brought one loaf of bread and one fish to a starving people. The people ripped the loaf in two and gave one half to their neighbor, and someone else ripped their fish in two and gave one half to their neighbor. And so, one loaf of bread and one fish staved off hunger for a thousand people." The bread-and-fish story was an allegory for loving one's neighbor, and Rahden had very nearly taken a literal interpretation of the tale.

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

"Ha-ha, I do remember that myth." In order to reach Rahdelli from Salonia, one had to head west and then take a boat from there. It was entirely possible to travel partway on foot, but crossing the steep mountain range that blocked the way made it a life-threatening journey. In one way or another, it would take at least three months to get there—six, in a worst-case scenario. One would have to go to the southernmost point of the continent, and then once one encountered the warm, glittering seas there, one would have to take a boat across several islands to reach the opposite coast. It was so far that Lawrence had only ever heard of its name. "Rahdelli... Is that why you're named Rahden?" Lawrence was certain that no one would ever find anyone else from Rahdelli in this area. There was no way Rahden would ever find someone who would know his real name, which is why he had taken on the name of his homeland. He understood that mindset after living on the road for so long. "My village was run-down, dying. And the warm seas were full of sharks, so we could never catch enough fish. We...well, I'm not sure how you'd say it up here, but we made our living by searching for treasures in the sea. We rarely found any; maybe once a year. We were like pirates." Treasures that could be found in the sea were typically amber that washed up on the beach after a storm, but when Rahden said they were pirates, Lawrence wondered if he commanded a famous group or something. "After three years with no harvest, my village fell apart. I was all alone by that point, so I felt drawn by the land across the sea and wanted to see what was beyond. I got onto a trading vessel as a rower. I was strong enough after searching for sea jewels, so they put me to good use." Rowing a ship was hard labor often used as punishment. That must have been what gave Rahden his physique. "I went from ship to ship and eventually found myself in a cold land. The war between the Church and the northern pagans was at its peak then, and every boat had fervent clergy aboard. That was when I learned of God's teachings." "Is that when you came to the area?" Lawrence asked. "Hmm? Oh, yes. My master...I suppose you could call him that—I stuck right by his side and made my way to the site of the battle. But things were in a horrible state back then, and I couldn't move past this place. I couldn't abandon all the people I saw fleeing the very place we were headed for." Rahden himself had left a destroyed village, so perhaps he found it even more difficult to leave them. "When I left my master's side, he secured me all the privileges for the land where the village currently sits as a parting gift. He was charismatic enough to convert a bird with his sermons, so I suppose it was easy for him." Realizing that it was not Rahden who had obtained the land originally brought Lawrence some relief. "I decided I was going to live out my days here. I decided I was going to make this a home for people who had lost their own homes. I vowed to give my all to this place, so I dug up a puddle that had been filled with leaves and built a pond." "Why a pond?" Holo asked, almost in spite of herself. Lawrence agreed. He also wanted to know why he had decided to build a fish hatchery. A bashful look crossed Rahden's face. "Because of the first passage I memorized from the scripture. God brought one loaf of bread and one fish to a starving people. The people ripped the loaf in two and gave one half to their neighbor, and someone else ripped their fish in two and gave one half to their neighbor. And so, one loaf of bread and one fish staved off hunger for a thousand people." The bread-and-fish story was an allegory for loving one's neighbor, and Rahden had very nearly taken a literal interpretation of the tale.

"Our trout is really good! Did either of you try it?" When Baum asked, Lawrence shook his head. "This is our first year here. We were so disappointed when we heard we couldn't have any." "Oh..." Baum was genuinely upset. Rahden smiled at him and continued his story. "It was one thing after another, and forty years passed in the blink of an eye. So much time has passed—Sulto had been burned out of his home and arrived with a newborn in his arms; that newborn grew up and had his own child, who's already gotten this big." Baum's lip curled in embarrassment under Rahden's tender gaze. "I have followed God's teachings all my life. But I have no intentions of becoming a bishop. I will protect my village, and I will die in my village. That's all I pray for." Rahden's gaze lifted up to the ceiling, as though peering up to the heavens. "I wish to be buried by the pond, for plump trout to gather in the shade of the tree that will grow from my corpse. That is how I wish the village to be." He lowered his gaze and said quietly, "That is all I want." There was strength in his voice despite his age, but that only served to season the tones of sadness of a man in his elder years. Holo's head was drooped, her hands balled into fists in her lap. Though aloof she seemed, she had the kindest heart, and these kinds of stories affected her more than anyone else Lawrence knew. "Even if the church here lent the villagers enough money to never have to work another day in their lives?" Lawrence asked, almost jokingly, and Rahden only gave him a tired smile. "I will not go to the pope. I have no reason to leave the village." Lawrence thought he saw Holo's ears twitch beneath her hood, but she was likely more affected by the wish Rahden ultimately confessed to them. Lawrence glanced at Holo before saying, "All right." Rahden studied Lawrence for a moment before silently bowing his head. The people of the Rahden Bishopric had come to town without arranging for a place to stay ahead of time, so the bishop decided that they would be allowed to stay the night at the church. Lawrence wanted to say it was a fitting decision coming from the church, the embodiment of God's mercy, but the bishop did not seem to be the type to sweat the details—he had likely made the decision on the fly. Elsa, who would likely be charged with keeping them under control due to her peerless work ethic, was weary. "Things have taken an odd turn..." When she had come to see Lawrence and Holo off, her words then had also been heavy with exhaustion. "I'd say this is much better than uncovering the problem after talks have progressed." There was the stubborn Rahden, and then Sulto and the people of the village, who respected Rahden so much that they would act rashly on his behalf even if it meant going against his wishes. This was not a logical matter, which meant there was no correct approach to the problem; Lawrence only hoped that they could settle this in a way where they could fondly look back on this in several years' time and laugh. "I'll come again tomorrow." "Thank you. I will keep watch to make sure the Father doesn't bring out any ale." The bishop was not a bad person, but it was clear that he was not a very attentive clergyman, especially since he had thrown a merchant in prison simply because he felt it was something he should do during the whole kerfuffle over debts. "Good night, then." "Good night," Elsa said, tired, and went back into the church, her shoulders slightly hunched over. Once the moment had gone, Lawrence turned to Holo beside him. "You're going to be up for a little while after we get back to the inn, right?" After choosing the whisky that would be used in the festival the night before, Holo had drunk herself silly in a drinking contest.

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

"Our trout is really good! Did either of you try it?" When Baum asked, Lawrence shook his head. "This is our first year here. We were so disappointed when we heard we couldn't have any." "Oh..." Baum was genuinely upset. Rahden smiled at him and continued his story. "It was one thing after another, and forty years passed in the blink of an eye. So much time has passed—Sulto had been burned out of his home and arrived with a newborn in his arms; that newborn grew up and had his own child, who's already gotten this big." Baum's lip curled in embarrassment under Rahden's tender gaze. "I have followed God's teachings all my life. But I have no intentions of becoming a bishop. I will protect my village, and I will die in my village. That's all I pray for." Rahden's gaze lifted up to the ceiling, as though peering up to the heavens. "I wish to be buried by the pond, for plump trout to gather in the shade of the tree that will grow from my corpse. That is how I wish the village to be." He lowered his gaze and said quietly, "That is all I want." There was strength in his voice despite his age, but that only served to season the tones of sadness of a man in his elder years. Holo's head was drooped, her hands balled into fists in her lap. Though aloof she seemed, she had the kindest heart, and these kinds of stories affected her more than anyone else Lawrence knew. "Even if the church here lent the villagers enough money to never have to work another day in their lives?" Lawrence asked, almost jokingly, and Rahden only gave him a tired smile. "I will not go to the pope. I have no reason to leave the village." Lawrence thought he saw Holo's ears twitch beneath her hood, but she was likely more affected by the wish Rahden ultimately confessed to them. Lawrence glanced at Holo before saying, "All right." Rahden studied Lawrence for a moment before silently bowing his head. The people of the Rahden Bishopric had come to town without arranging for a place to stay ahead of time, so the bishop decided that they would be allowed to stay the night at the church. Lawrence wanted to say it was a fitting decision coming from the church, the embodiment of God's mercy, but the bishop did not seem to be the type to sweat the details—he had likely made the decision on the fly. Elsa, who would likely be charged with keeping them under control due to her peerless work ethic, was weary. "Things have taken an odd turn..." When she had come to see Lawrence and Holo off, her words then had also been heavy with exhaustion. "I'd say this is much better than uncovering the problem after talks have progressed." There was the stubborn Rahden, and then Sulto and the people of the village, who respected Rahden so much that they would act rashly on his behalf even if it meant going against his wishes. This was not a logical matter, which meant there was no correct approach to the problem; Lawrence only hoped that they could settle this in a way where they could fondly look back on this in several years' time and laugh. "I'll come again tomorrow." "Thank you. I will keep watch to make sure the Father doesn't bring out any ale." The bishop was not a bad person, but it was clear that he was not a very attentive clergyman, especially since he had thrown a merchant in prison simply because he felt it was something he should do during the whole kerfuffle over debts. "Good night, then." "Good night," Elsa said, tired, and went back into the church, her shoulders slightly hunched over. Once the moment had gone, Lawrence turned to Holo beside him. "You're going to be up for a little while after we get back to the inn, right?" After choosing the whisky that would be used in the festival the night before, Holo had drunk herself silly in a drinking contest.

The hustle and bustle of town in the late hour was even greater than it had been during the day, and most of the revelers were inebriated. "Aye. I desire fatty meat." "Okay, okay." They entered a nearby tavern at her insistence. Lawrence sipped his ale as he watched Holo sink her teeth into a lamb chop. The great market was where all the agricultural products came together, so it was not just the town distillers who were showing off their wares—there were also those who used their own stills and secret techniques. What Lawrence was drinking was made of barley smoked in wood hewn from fruit trees, imparting a fruity flavor. It was easy to drink; he had a feeling Holo could down an entire barrel if left to her own devices. "Whose side do you think we should take?" "Mm?" After washing down the greasy mutton with her own ale, Holo turned to Lawrence, a thick foam mustache adorning her lip. "I'd normally approach this like a merchant and weigh things on the scale, if it were a matter of logic." There was a lot of emotion involved in this disagreement between Sulto and Rahden. "Or maybe I shouldn't get involved at all?" An outsider meddling in these affairs usually made things worse. The debt plaguing the town just happened to be an issue that was easier for an outsider to solve. That said, this particular problem did not seem as steep a hurdle, but neither was it one that they could solve themselves. "For what reason would you want to help them?" Holo took the clean lamb bone in hand and frantically waved down the tavern girl who was carrying around food. "Because it'd be a waste if I didn't." "Would it?" Holo, biting into the roasted beans that had come with her lamb, looked at him with surprise. "A merchant you've never seen before is selling really high-quality mutton in the market. But he doesn't realize the quality of the meat himself, so he's trying to sell it off cheaply to people who cook meat together in a hodgepodge at their cheap stalls." "What a fool! Good mutton has an herbal scent to it, and is best cooked in a bread oven or something of the sort. Meat scraps taste best boiled!" "See? You'd want to speak up, wouldn't you?" Holo nodded. "Do you mean to say this is no different?" "Exactly. He's reclaimed land obtained through dubious means and built such a wonderful little village. People have taken to calling him a bishop, but he's not a man of the clergy at all. One day, however, an invitation to actually become one comes directly from the pope, and he turns that down for some reason?" A bishop was a very high position in the clergy. It was typically a title only obtained after deep study of theology of one's own will, mastering high-level canon law while serving at a church, then taking a slow journey up the Church's ladder starting as assistant priest. It was not attainable through faith alone; one needed cunning and political chops and to give plenty of gratuities to senior clergy in order to cross these barriers. But to be given the opportunity to skip all of that and immediately become a bishop, only to turn the position down? Anyone would call that a waste. "Perhaps he simply isn't interested. Little Col loves the scripture, but he is not the type to swagger about a church, no?" "I have a feeling this is a bit more than just plain old interest. If he were to become a bishop, then his village would become the formal seat of a diocese. There is real benefit to that happening, and anyone who is genuinely concerned for the village's well-being should be able to see that." "Mm." Holo gave a halfhearted response; either she was not sure what Lawrence was getting at, or it was because she had just seen them take out a hunk of mutton from the oven in the kitchen.

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

The hustle and bustle of town in the late hour was even greater than it had been during the day, and most of the revelers were inebriated. "Aye. I desire fatty meat." "Okay, okay." They entered a nearby tavern at her insistence. Lawrence sipped his ale as he watched Holo sink her teeth into a lamb chop. The great market was where all the agricultural products came together, so it was not just the town distillers who were showing off their wares—there were also those who used their own stills and secret techniques. What Lawrence was drinking was made of barley smoked in wood hewn from fruit trees, imparting a fruity flavor. It was easy to drink; he had a feeling Holo could down an entire barrel if left to her own devices. "Whose side do you think we should take?" "Mm?" After washing down the greasy mutton with her own ale, Holo turned to Lawrence, a thick foam mustache adorning her lip. "I'd normally approach this like a merchant and weigh things on the scale, if it were a matter of logic." There was a lot of emotion involved in this disagreement between Sulto and Rahden. "Or maybe I shouldn't get involved at all?" An outsider meddling in these affairs usually made things worse. The debt plaguing the town just happened to be an issue that was easier for an outsider to solve. That said, this particular problem did not seem as steep a hurdle, but neither was it one that they could solve themselves. "For what reason would you want to help them?" Holo took the clean lamb bone in hand and frantically waved down the tavern girl who was carrying around food. "Because it'd be a waste if I didn't." "Would it?" Holo, biting into the roasted beans that had come with her lamb, looked at him with surprise. "A merchant you've never seen before is selling really high-quality mutton in the market. But he doesn't realize the quality of the meat himself, so he's trying to sell it off cheaply to people who cook meat together in a hodgepodge at their cheap stalls." "What a fool! Good mutton has an herbal scent to it, and is best cooked in a bread oven or something of the sort. Meat scraps taste best boiled!" "See? You'd want to speak up, wouldn't you?" Holo nodded. "Do you mean to say this is no different?" "Exactly. He's reclaimed land obtained through dubious means and built such a wonderful little village. People have taken to calling him a bishop, but he's not a man of the clergy at all. One day, however, an invitation to actually become one comes directly from the pope, and he turns that down for some reason?" A bishop was a very high position in the clergy. It was typically a title only obtained after deep study of theology of one's own will, mastering high-level canon law while serving at a church, then taking a slow journey up the Church's ladder starting as assistant priest. It was not attainable through faith alone; one needed cunning and political chops and to give plenty of gratuities to senior clergy in order to cross these barriers. But to be given the opportunity to skip all of that and immediately become a bishop, only to turn the position down? Anyone would call that a waste. "Perhaps he simply isn't interested. Little Col loves the scripture, but he is not the type to swagger about a church, no?" "I have a feeling this is a bit more than just plain old interest. If he were to become a bishop, then his village would become the formal seat of a diocese. There is real benefit to that happening, and anyone who is genuinely concerned for the village's well-being should be able to see that." "Mm." Holo gave a halfhearted response; either she was not sure what Lawrence was getting at, or it was because she had just seen them take out a hunk of mutton from the oven in the kitchen.

"I...suppose that could happen, yes." "But if a real bishop were in charge of the bishopric, then the Church would side with them in a tough situation like that. The noble would have to really fight if they wanted the land back in that case. It'd be the same as fighting with any other landowner." Just as Lawrence finished speaking, the sprightly tavern girl, her red hair tied back with a ribbon, set the plate of freshly grilled mutton on their table. Holo asked for seconds of her drink as the tavern girl passed by before taking her knife and carving a line in the meat. "All this is mine." She was putting territorial dispute into practice. "And if the town falls into financial trouble in the future, then it would be much easier for the Salonia church to lend a hand. People rarely question when money passes between churches, nor do they think it very problematic." "I understand that. Back when I was naught but your traveling companion, 'twas quite painful to simply have a meal because you would always be paying. You should know how much it eases my consciousness now that I am your wife." *** Lawrence turned to her wordlessly, his lips drawn in a strained smile, and in turn she gave him a sweet-yet-sinister smile in return. She then cut into the meat with joy and bit into it. "Well, if Rahden does become bishop, that title comes with all kinds of perks, you see. Even if the worst of the worst happens to the village, he wouldn't need to worry nearly as much." After crunching her way through the cartilage, Holo spoke without bothering to wipe her mouth. "There must be disadvantages, too, no?" Of course that was where her mind would go. She was the wisewolf. "Of course. He'd be a part of the Church, so whoever assumes his position would be in a position higher than the mayor." "Mm. I can imagine this would be a particular handful of an individual." "I think that might be what Rahden's worried about." Rahden had nurtured and developed the village up under his own personal care. He would not be very happy if an outsider came in and started acting like it was their own. As those thoughts crossed Lawrence's mind, he took a piece of mutton, smaller than the smallest portion Holo had cut for him, and bit into it. The sweet fats filled his mouth. "And you noticed something while Rahden was talking, didn't you?" Lawrence asked. Holo, who was hunched over as she munched into her mutton ribs, lifted her gaze at him with rounded eyes. "'Twas nothing notable. He said deer hunting was unstable, so he was hoping to bring the hatchery back to the village, no?" "Was he lying?" Holo shrugged her slender shoulders; she stared fixedly at the stripped bone, then sunk her canines into a sinewy piece of meat that still clung to it. "You said that his deer hunting was going well. Perhaps the fool simply dislikes the thought of it." The way she spoke made it sound like she was deliberately putting emotional distance between her and him. Lawrence sensed that she was not keen on touching the heart of the issue, though it did not seem to be major enough to consider her to be hiding something. As he wondered why that was, he recalled what Rahden had said. "Maybe Rahden built the lake in the mountains not to get rich, but because he was sentimental about the home he left behind." The man had said that the first passage he learned from the scripture had guided him to do so, but it was still rather unnatural to build a lake, of all things. Holo did not respond right away; after munching on her bone with loud crunching noises, she placed it down with a sigh. "I know not how people think." Her remark sounded heartless, but Lawrence knew how she felt deep inside.

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

"I...suppose that could happen, yes." "But if a real bishop were in charge of the bishopric, then the Church would side with them in a tough situation like that. The noble would have to really fight if they wanted the land back in that case. It'd be the same as fighting with any other landowner." Just as Lawrence finished speaking, the sprightly tavern girl, her red hair tied back with a ribbon, set the plate of freshly grilled mutton on their table. Holo asked for seconds of her drink as the tavern girl passed by before taking her knife and carving a line in the meat. "All this is mine." She was putting territorial dispute into practice. "And if the town falls into financial trouble in the future, then it would be much easier for the Salonia church to lend a hand. People rarely question when money passes between churches, nor do they think it very problematic." "I understand that. Back when I was naught but your traveling companion, 'twas quite painful to simply have a meal because you would always be paying. You should know how much it eases my consciousness now that I am your wife." *** Lawrence turned to her wordlessly, his lips drawn in a strained smile, and in turn she gave him a sweet-yet-sinister smile in return. She then cut into the meat with joy and bit into it. "Well, if Rahden does become bishop, that title comes with all kinds of perks, you see. Even if the worst of the worst happens to the village, he wouldn't need to worry nearly as much." After crunching her way through the cartilage, Holo spoke without bothering to wipe her mouth. "There must be disadvantages, too, no?" Of course that was where her mind would go. She was the wisewolf. "Of course. He'd be a part of the Church, so whoever assumes his position would be in a position higher than the mayor." "Mm. I can imagine this would be a particular handful of an individual." "I think that might be what Rahden's worried about." Rahden had nurtured and developed the village up under his own personal care. He would not be very happy if an outsider came in and started acting like it was their own. As those thoughts crossed Lawrence's mind, he took a piece of mutton, smaller than the smallest portion Holo had cut for him, and bit into it. The sweet fats filled his mouth. "And you noticed something while Rahden was talking, didn't you?" Lawrence asked. Holo, who was hunched over as she munched into her mutton ribs, lifted her gaze at him with rounded eyes. "'Twas nothing notable. He said deer hunting was unstable, so he was hoping to bring the hatchery back to the village, no?" "Was he lying?" Holo shrugged her slender shoulders; she stared fixedly at the stripped bone, then sunk her canines into a sinewy piece of meat that still clung to it. "You said that his deer hunting was going well. Perhaps the fool simply dislikes the thought of it." The way she spoke made it sound like she was deliberately putting emotional distance between her and him. Lawrence sensed that she was not keen on touching the heart of the issue, though it did not seem to be major enough to consider her to be hiding something. As he wondered why that was, he recalled what Rahden had said. "Maybe Rahden built the lake in the mountains not to get rich, but because he was sentimental about the home he left behind." The man had said that the first passage he learned from the scripture had guided him to do so, but it was still rather unnatural to build a lake, of all things. Holo did not respond right away; after munching on her bone with loud crunching noises, she placed it down with a sigh. "I know not how people think." Her remark sounded heartless, but Lawrence knew how she felt deep inside.

And despite all that, Lawrence had brought up the topic of recreating a lost home. A problem that was typically kept buried, one that was unsolvable, showed its face at times like this. Though he understood why she would want to distance herself from the concept, there was still one thing he did not understand. "But that doesn't really have anything to do with becoming a bishop." So what did that mean? Lawrence sat thinking, mug of ale in hand, but his thoughts didn't lead him to a clear conclusion. In all honesty, it seemed preposterous that Rahden would turn down the position of bishop. He also could not find a sensible reason for him to be so harsh on the busybody Sulto, or for it to turn into the big scuffle it did at the church. There had to be another reason why Rahden would refuse the position. As those thoughts ruminated in his mind, he noticed Holo was looking at him from across the mutton with a weary look on her face. "Hmm? Wh-what is it? What's wrong?" He brought his hand up to his face in surprise, wondering if something was stuck to him, then looked down at the mutton, also wondering if he had accidentally cut a piece of the fatty part for himself, which was Holo's favorite bit. When she saw his reaction, she sighed. After a moment of heavy hesitation, she opened her mouth. "Dear, I think—" Just as she was about to continue, a loud voice cut her off. "Well, well! If it isn't Sir Lawrence!" They looked up in surprise to see a man with a bald head, full beard, and round belly—Laud, the very picture of an elderly merchant. He was the owner of the company that first presented his loan bonds to them when Salonia was in an uproar over debts. Ever since then, he had come to see Lawrence as the hero of mercantilism. "Your wife is beautiful, as always." Though Holo typically was the kind to readily accept compliments like that, she only offered a vague smile in return, having been interrupted just as she was about to say something. "You know, I heard that the church was swarmed by folk from the Rahden Bishopric, and that they called for you specifically, Sir Lawrence. That was about whether Lord Rahden is going to be a real bishop, wasn't it?" Everyone knew at this point since Sulto had discussed the matter with many trading companies. "Yes... They say that the merchants in town turned down their requests for loans." Lawrence's tone was teasing because he knew that Laud was one of the ones who had turned them down. Laud himself shrugged, mug filled to the brim with ale in one hand, at the implication. "We wouldn't have minded a small loan...but they asked for quite a bit, and you know how things have been. And if Lord Rahden was to become a real bishop, then the problems would start once someone comes to take his place. There is more than a small chance of us never getting repaid." Lawrence had considered that very issue; any merchant could think of at least one or two real-life examples of such a thing happening. "But my business partners and I agree that it would be a good thing if it were to become a real bishopric. When I saw you, I had to find out what you think." "I don't think this will be quite what you're expecting, but..." Laud took a sip of his drink and gave a sympathetic smile. "Lord Rahden himself doesn't sound too enthused about the idea, does he?" It sounded as though he knew that already. "Why do you think that is?" Lawrence asked. The outer edges of Laud's eyes, red from the alcohol, drooped as he replied, "Hmm... You know, I find that strange, too. Speaking logically, being made bishop is like being a country girl that a prince wants to marry. I know it'd be a lot of work, but if someone's inviting you to take the throne, you'd take it, wouldn't you?" Lawrence laughed in spite of himself, but the metaphor was indeed accurate.

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

And despite all that, Lawrence had brought up the topic of recreating a lost home. A problem that was typically kept buried, one that was unsolvable, showed its face at times like this. Though he understood why she would want to distance herself from the concept, there was still one thing he did not understand. "But that doesn't really have anything to do with becoming a bishop." So what did that mean? Lawrence sat thinking, mug of ale in hand, but his thoughts didn't lead him to a clear conclusion. In all honesty, it seemed preposterous that Rahden would turn down the position of bishop. He also could not find a sensible reason for him to be so harsh on the busybody Sulto, or for it to turn into the big scuffle it did at the church. There had to be another reason why Rahden would refuse the position. As those thoughts ruminated in his mind, he noticed Holo was looking at him from across the mutton with a weary look on her face. "Hmm? Wh-what is it? What's wrong?" He brought his hand up to his face in surprise, wondering if something was stuck to him, then looked down at the mutton, also wondering if he had accidentally cut a piece of the fatty part for himself, which was Holo's favorite bit. When she saw his reaction, she sighed. After a moment of heavy hesitation, she opened her mouth. "Dear, I think—" Just as she was about to continue, a loud voice cut her off. "Well, well! If it isn't Sir Lawrence!" They looked up in surprise to see a man with a bald head, full beard, and round belly—Laud, the very picture of an elderly merchant. He was the owner of the company that first presented his loan bonds to them when Salonia was in an uproar over debts. Ever since then, he had come to see Lawrence as the hero of mercantilism. "Your wife is beautiful, as always." Though Holo typically was the kind to readily accept compliments like that, she only offered a vague smile in return, having been interrupted just as she was about to say something. "You know, I heard that the church was swarmed by folk from the Rahden Bishopric, and that they called for you specifically, Sir Lawrence. That was about whether Lord Rahden is going to be a real bishop, wasn't it?" Everyone knew at this point since Sulto had discussed the matter with many trading companies. "Yes... They say that the merchants in town turned down their requests for loans." Lawrence's tone was teasing because he knew that Laud was one of the ones who had turned them down. Laud himself shrugged, mug filled to the brim with ale in one hand, at the implication. "We wouldn't have minded a small loan...but they asked for quite a bit, and you know how things have been. And if Lord Rahden was to become a real bishop, then the problems would start once someone comes to take his place. There is more than a small chance of us never getting repaid." Lawrence had considered that very issue; any merchant could think of at least one or two real-life examples of such a thing happening. "But my business partners and I agree that it would be a good thing if it were to become a real bishopric. When I saw you, I had to find out what you think." "I don't think this will be quite what you're expecting, but..." Laud took a sip of his drink and gave a sympathetic smile. "Lord Rahden himself doesn't sound too enthused about the idea, does he?" It sounded as though he knew that already. "Why do you think that is?" Lawrence asked. The outer edges of Laud's eyes, red from the alcohol, drooped as he replied, "Hmm... You know, I find that strange, too. Speaking logically, being made bishop is like being a country girl that a prince wants to marry. I know it'd be a lot of work, but if someone's inviting you to take the throne, you'd take it, wouldn't you?" Lawrence laughed in spite of himself, but the metaphor was indeed accurate.

When Lawrence had asked if Sulto was going to revive the hatchery with the loan, the mayor had given an evasive answer. He must have thought that putting money and effort into a difficult-to-maintain hatchery while the deer business was going well was not the best course of action. "And Lord Rahden set up that whole pond because he wanted to re-create the ideal seas from his hometown, didn't he?" "So that is the reason why, isn't it?" It had been nothing more than their own speculation before this conversation, so Lawrence latched on to what Laud said. "Obviously. Better if there was a nice pond out there to begin with, but he went through all the trouble to dig a hole and fill it with water. Tugs at the heartstrings, doesn't it? The mayor and his friends should help him out, I say, even if it doesn't make them a fortune." Laud sounded disappointed. "All that fatty fish was so tasty, too," he murmured; that was likely how he genuinely felt. But something about the pond and Rahden re-creating his ideal hometown did not quite add up in Lawrence's mind. "But didn't his dreams come true already?" "Hmm?" Laud hummed in reply. "I hear it's written in Salonia's annals—the fish were so abundant one year that it saved Salonia from famine." "Oh, yes, that was back when I was a snot-nosed brat. I remember. It was the tastiest trout in all the world." Which then begged the question: Why was Rahden still so attached to it? "By the way, the mayor and the others didn't say anything about filling up the lake, did they?" It was a worry of all men who worked away from home that something would happen to their secret savings while they were gone. When Laud heard the possibility, he howled with laughter. "Ha! Who'd be so stupid? If the bishop were to give up on the hatchery, then they'd use that water for tanning, anyway! I'd say the mayor and his friends would only deepen their faith in it, thinking since Lord Rahden made it, it might even be a miracle spring that could save them twice!" When he put it that way, he was likely right. Though it was not the same picturesque ocean from the man's hometown, it was still put to good use for the villagers. Rahden would be gone for just one year to get the formalities done that would make him a bishop. And judging by the way Laud spoke about it, it was hard to imagine Sulto and the others turning the pond into a tanning workshop while Rahden was away. In that case, Rahden should be fully able to return from becoming a bishop and get back to reestablishing the hatchery. As Lawrence hummed in thought, Laud suddenly thrust his face toward Lawrence's, a teasing remark accompanied by breath that stunk of alcohol. "The lads and I think that Lord Rahden might be close to realizing a second dream of his." "What?" "They used to search for gems at the bottom of the sea back in his hometown, didn't they?" "Or so I've heard, yes... What?! Wait, but how—" Lawrence honestly wondered how they were supposed to find treasure from a hole in a mountain that they built, and Laud's shoulders shook with laughter. "Ha-ha-ha! That's just tavern banter! But it is hard to see how any of it makes sense without something like that, you know." "Yes, it is puzzling." "Heh. People have come to talk to the other merchants in town about the very same thing. Everyone comes to the same conclusion. But everyone says that it'll be different because you're around this time." Lawrence understood now. "We're all betting on how this'll end, you know." Laud had come to gather information from him so that he would have an advantage on his bet. He winked mischievously. "I wonder what that treasure could be. Sadly, I can't seem to figure it out," Lawrence mused. "Hmm?" "Up in the northern seas, you can find amber washed ashore after a storm. Or...pearls, perhaps?"

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

When Lawrence had asked if Sulto was going to revive the hatchery with the loan, the mayor had given an evasive answer. He must have thought that putting money and effort into a difficult-to-maintain hatchery while the deer business was going well was not the best course of action. "And Lord Rahden set up that whole pond because he wanted to re-create the ideal seas from his hometown, didn't he?" "So that is the reason why, isn't it?" It had been nothing more than their own speculation before this conversation, so Lawrence latched on to what Laud said. "Obviously. Better if there was a nice pond out there to begin with, but he went through all the trouble to dig a hole and fill it with water. Tugs at the heartstrings, doesn't it? The mayor and his friends should help him out, I say, even if it doesn't make them a fortune." Laud sounded disappointed. "All that fatty fish was so tasty, too," he murmured; that was likely how he genuinely felt. But something about the pond and Rahden re-creating his ideal hometown did not quite add up in Lawrence's mind. "But didn't his dreams come true already?" "Hmm?" Laud hummed in reply. "I hear it's written in Salonia's annals—the fish were so abundant one year that it saved Salonia from famine." "Oh, yes, that was back when I was a snot-nosed brat. I remember. It was the tastiest trout in all the world." Which then begged the question: Why was Rahden still so attached to it? "By the way, the mayor and the others didn't say anything about filling up the lake, did they?" It was a worry of all men who worked away from home that something would happen to their secret savings while they were gone. When Laud heard the possibility, he howled with laughter. "Ha! Who'd be so stupid? If the bishop were to give up on the hatchery, then they'd use that water for tanning, anyway! I'd say the mayor and his friends would only deepen their faith in it, thinking since Lord Rahden made it, it might even be a miracle spring that could save them twice!" When he put it that way, he was likely right. Though it was not the same picturesque ocean from the man's hometown, it was still put to good use for the villagers. Rahden would be gone for just one year to get the formalities done that would make him a bishop. And judging by the way Laud spoke about it, it was hard to imagine Sulto and the others turning the pond into a tanning workshop while Rahden was away. In that case, Rahden should be fully able to return from becoming a bishop and get back to reestablishing the hatchery. As Lawrence hummed in thought, Laud suddenly thrust his face toward Lawrence's, a teasing remark accompanied by breath that stunk of alcohol. "The lads and I think that Lord Rahden might be close to realizing a second dream of his." "What?" "They used to search for gems at the bottom of the sea back in his hometown, didn't they?" "Or so I've heard, yes... What?! Wait, but how—" Lawrence honestly wondered how they were supposed to find treasure from a hole in a mountain that they built, and Laud's shoulders shook with laughter. "Ha-ha-ha! That's just tavern banter! But it is hard to see how any of it makes sense without something like that, you know." "Yes, it is puzzling." "Heh. People have come to talk to the other merchants in town about the very same thing. Everyone comes to the same conclusion. But everyone says that it'll be different because you're around this time." Lawrence understood now. "We're all betting on how this'll end, you know." Laud had come to gather information from him so that he would have an advantage on his bet. He winked mischievously. "I wonder what that treasure could be. Sadly, I can't seem to figure it out," Lawrence mused. "Hmm?" "Up in the northern seas, you can find amber washed ashore after a storm. Or...pearls, perhaps?"

"It won't be amber or pearls," Laud said. "What did he say...? It's not something you hear about too much up here. It was, uh..." He patted his smooth head, and his eyes widened in an instant. "That's right! Coral!" "Coral?" "Long ago, I saw a traveling handicraft merchant present a sample of their wares to a noble. It was beautiful, red and gemlike. It had silver filigree on it, so it was rounded, but I hear it used to be like a tree that grows in the sea." A tree that grew in the sea—though Lawrence had only heard about it in passing once, that was precisely the impression he had of it. He couldn't form a clear mental image of it, but it did make sense that out of all the things in this wide, wide world, a tree of gems could grow in the sea. "They grow at the bottom of the ocean, and it's hard to get down there and harvest them. That's why they make hooks to attach to metal rods that look like the Church crest, wrap rope around them, and drop them into the water. They pull the hooks up again, then dunk them back in. The whole job's based on luck—it's absolutely disheartening. And those trunks have to be thick enough in order to carve jewels out of them, which makes the whole ordeal even more luck-based." "I see..." Lawrence was impressed; there was still so much about the world he did not know. He gave Laud a tired smile. "I highly doubt they could re-create that in a pond, though." "But dreams are dreams, right?" Laud was right. "Well, guess we still don't know. Lord Rahden won't give his reasoning based on anything but the hatchery." That told Lawrence that going to ask the man himself would not give him an answer. "Either way, if it looks like Lord Rahden might become a bishop, just let me know. I'd want to donate something to him as a symbol of our acquaintanceship." Laud gave a businesslike smile and returned to his own seat. Lawrence was relieved that the man's large and overbearing presence was gone, but the emptiness in his chest almost felt like everything had been in vain. "Hmm... Now I'm even more confused than before," Lawrence murmured with a sigh, folding his arms. They could not force Rahden into becoming a bishop if he himself was not interested, but from the outside, it seemed like a total waste if he did not take the opportunity. Both Lawrence and Laud, of course, were secretly invested in this situation, because it would mean another ally in the Church for them. And Lawrence also felt a sense of understanding to how forceful Sulto's actions seemed in contrast to Rahden's motives. Sulto and the other villagers were genuinely thankful for all Rahden had done for them. They likely saw this as their chance to repay their debts to him. Rahden, especially, had apparently traveled all this way with the Church's teachings serving as the wind in his sails. It would make sense if he wanted to become a real member of the clergy, and would think that this was his God-given chance. But in fact, seeing an elderly individual who had led people all their lives, plus all the people around them who greatly respected said individual, was a common sight in the Nyohhira baths. There could be two generations of nobility who come to the baths. The father is so old that he no longer has any teeth, yet he still insists that he can keep up with the youths. His son might be old enough to have pronounced wrinkles on his face, yet he grumbles about how his father keeps patrolling their land on horseback and keeps participating in complicated manorial affairs that last well into the night for days in a row. The father will never listen, no matter how much the son insists he rest, so the son drags his father all the way out to Nyohhira in order to get him to slow down for a moment. It is only then that the father realizes it is time to retire.

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

"It won't be amber or pearls," Laud said. "What did he say...? It's not something you hear about too much up here. It was, uh..." He patted his smooth head, and his eyes widened in an instant. "That's right! Coral!" "Coral?" "Long ago, I saw a traveling handicraft merchant present a sample of their wares to a noble. It was beautiful, red and gemlike. It had silver filigree on it, so it was rounded, but I hear it used to be like a tree that grows in the sea." A tree that grew in the sea—though Lawrence had only heard about it in passing once, that was precisely the impression he had of it. He couldn't form a clear mental image of it, but it did make sense that out of all the things in this wide, wide world, a tree of gems could grow in the sea. "They grow at the bottom of the ocean, and it's hard to get down there and harvest them. That's why they make hooks to attach to metal rods that look like the Church crest, wrap rope around them, and drop them into the water. They pull the hooks up again, then dunk them back in. The whole job's based on luck—it's absolutely disheartening. And those trunks have to be thick enough in order to carve jewels out of them, which makes the whole ordeal even more luck-based." "I see..." Lawrence was impressed; there was still so much about the world he did not know. He gave Laud a tired smile. "I highly doubt they could re-create that in a pond, though." "But dreams are dreams, right?" Laud was right. "Well, guess we still don't know. Lord Rahden won't give his reasoning based on anything but the hatchery." That told Lawrence that going to ask the man himself would not give him an answer. "Either way, if it looks like Lord Rahden might become a bishop, just let me know. I'd want to donate something to him as a symbol of our acquaintanceship." Laud gave a businesslike smile and returned to his own seat. Lawrence was relieved that the man's large and overbearing presence was gone, but the emptiness in his chest almost felt like everything had been in vain. "Hmm... Now I'm even more confused than before," Lawrence murmured with a sigh, folding his arms. They could not force Rahden into becoming a bishop if he himself was not interested, but from the outside, it seemed like a total waste if he did not take the opportunity. Both Lawrence and Laud, of course, were secretly invested in this situation, because it would mean another ally in the Church for them. And Lawrence also felt a sense of understanding to how forceful Sulto's actions seemed in contrast to Rahden's motives. Sulto and the other villagers were genuinely thankful for all Rahden had done for them. They likely saw this as their chance to repay their debts to him. Rahden, especially, had apparently traveled all this way with the Church's teachings serving as the wind in his sails. It would make sense if he wanted to become a real member of the clergy, and would think that this was his God-given chance. But in fact, seeing an elderly individual who had led people all their lives, plus all the people around them who greatly respected said individual, was a common sight in the Nyohhira baths. There could be two generations of nobility who come to the baths. The father is so old that he no longer has any teeth, yet he still insists that he can keep up with the youths. His son might be old enough to have pronounced wrinkles on his face, yet he grumbles about how his father keeps patrolling their land on horseback and keeps participating in complicated manorial affairs that last well into the night for days in a row. The father will never listen, no matter how much the son insists he rest, so the son drags his father all the way out to Nyohhira in order to get him to slow down for a moment. It is only then that the father realizes it is time to retire.

She had been quiet ever since Laud came by, but she looked pale as well. Though her cheeks were reddened, she seemed abnormally pallid besides that. She'd only had two or three mugs of ale, this was right after a hangover, so perhaps it was having an adverse effect on her. There was still a bit of mutton left, too—a sure sign that she was not well. It seemed as though their best option was to wrap the food up and take it back to the inn. "Let's go back, Holo." He plucked the mug of ale from her hand as she drowsily nodded off, paid the bill to the redheaded tavern girl, hoisted Holo onto his back, and took the pack of mutton. Exasperated, he wondered how many times he had carried her back to their inn so far, but she likely had her guard down because she knew he would do this for her. He did sometimes wonder if it was an act, but he, of course, always pretended not to notice. It was a merchant's pleasure to meet the demands of the customer. If his princess was going to beg for attention, then he was going to spoil her rotten. "Sure is chilly." When they left the tavern, the air was heavy with signs of autumn. He wondered if he should have placed a blanket over Holo, but he grimaced at the thought—that would be a bit too much. He readjusted her on his back as she seemed about to slip off, and slowly headed back toward their inn. "I feel like she's getting heavier every year..." He thought it strange, considering how her appearance never changed, but then it dawned on him that she was not the one changing. Holo was not getting heavier; Lawrence was the one withering away. One day, him carrying Holo on his back to bed would become a distant memory of the past. He wondered if the reason why he was so quick to answer her demands was because he would always imagine things from her perspective. Only Holo would stay young forever; only Lawrence would grow old with age. Whenever he pictured the day he would leave Holo behind in this world, he found himself desperate to indulge her. Sometimes, he felt like it would never be enough. He could not protect her forever. They had vowed in their marriage to stay together "till death do us part," and they had always known that Lawrence would be the first to go. Lawrence forced a smile as the customers gathered around the bar outside the inn hooted at them. The innkeeper silently stepped ahead of him to open the door for him and prepared a small bucket for them just in case. As Lawrence, tired, was about to place Holo on the bed, she stirred awake. She stretched out her legs to get down and sat on the bed with a forceful thud. "This is starting to feel familiar." Lawrence smiled. Holo curled up and groaned. "You feeling okay?" There was more color in her face now, but when he asked her, just in case, she nodded. Of course, he did not trust her, since she did not loudly claim she was handling it fine, but she did more than just nod. She reached out to grab his sleeve in a gesture for him to sit beside her. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Holo looked much younger when she was weak. They often said that a person became more childish the older they became. He sat on her right side, and she placed her forehead on his shoulder. "I apologize, I cannot hold my liquor..." She was telling him what was wrong, which meant she was feeling much better. Lawrence wrapped his arm around Holo and grasped her hand with his own free one. "Laud did drop by in the middle of our conversation. Bet you felt lonely, huh?" he teased her, and she gripped his hand even tighter. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed the base of her ear. She cared for her tail using expensive oils, which gave it a sweet floral scent. But there was a different sweetness to her ears—they smelled like her. He restrained himself, though, because he knew she did not like it when he sniffed her too much, when she suddenly spoke up. "Lonely is likely an apt descriptor." *** In his shock, a pacifying smile reflexively crossed his face.

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

She had been quiet ever since Laud came by, but she looked pale as well. Though her cheeks were reddened, she seemed abnormally pallid besides that. She'd only had two or three mugs of ale, this was right after a hangover, so perhaps it was having an adverse effect on her. There was still a bit of mutton left, too—a sure sign that she was not well. It seemed as though their best option was to wrap the food up and take it back to the inn. "Let's go back, Holo." He plucked the mug of ale from her hand as she drowsily nodded off, paid the bill to the redheaded tavern girl, hoisted Holo onto his back, and took the pack of mutton. Exasperated, he wondered how many times he had carried her back to their inn so far, but she likely had her guard down because she knew he would do this for her. He did sometimes wonder if it was an act, but he, of course, always pretended not to notice. It was a merchant's pleasure to meet the demands of the customer. If his princess was going to beg for attention, then he was going to spoil her rotten. "Sure is chilly." When they left the tavern, the air was heavy with signs of autumn. He wondered if he should have placed a blanket over Holo, but he grimaced at the thought—that would be a bit too much. He readjusted her on his back as she seemed about to slip off, and slowly headed back toward their inn. "I feel like she's getting heavier every year..." He thought it strange, considering how her appearance never changed, but then it dawned on him that she was not the one changing. Holo was not getting heavier; Lawrence was the one withering away. One day, him carrying Holo on his back to bed would become a distant memory of the past. He wondered if the reason why he was so quick to answer her demands was because he would always imagine things from her perspective. Only Holo would stay young forever; only Lawrence would grow old with age. Whenever he pictured the day he would leave Holo behind in this world, he found himself desperate to indulge her. Sometimes, he felt like it would never be enough. He could not protect her forever. They had vowed in their marriage to stay together "till death do us part," and they had always known that Lawrence would be the first to go. Lawrence forced a smile as the customers gathered around the bar outside the inn hooted at them. The innkeeper silently stepped ahead of him to open the door for him and prepared a small bucket for them just in case. As Lawrence, tired, was about to place Holo on the bed, she stirred awake. She stretched out her legs to get down and sat on the bed with a forceful thud. "This is starting to feel familiar." Lawrence smiled. Holo curled up and groaned. "You feeling okay?" There was more color in her face now, but when he asked her, just in case, she nodded. Of course, he did not trust her, since she did not loudly claim she was handling it fine, but she did more than just nod. She reached out to grab his sleeve in a gesture for him to sit beside her. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Holo looked much younger when she was weak. They often said that a person became more childish the older they became. He sat on her right side, and she placed her forehead on his shoulder. "I apologize, I cannot hold my liquor..." She was telling him what was wrong, which meant she was feeling much better. Lawrence wrapped his arm around Holo and grasped her hand with his own free one. "Laud did drop by in the middle of our conversation. Bet you felt lonely, huh?" he teased her, and she gripped his hand even tighter. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed the base of her ear. She cared for her tail using expensive oils, which gave it a sweet floral scent. But there was a different sweetness to her ears—they smelled like her. He restrained himself, though, because he knew she did not like it when he sniffed her too much, when she suddenly spoke up. "Lonely is likely an apt descriptor." *** In his shock, a pacifying smile reflexively crossed his face.

She rubbed the base of her ears against his cheek. Up until that point, Lawrence had nothing to say in return to her shyness, but his thoughts finally caught up. "...Oh, right. You were going to say something right as Laud came to us, weren't you?" Had she realized something about Rahden? Now that he thought about it, she had been looking glum ever since then. He gently shook her hand, waiting for an answer, and her small hands shook back. "All you do is think and think...and I realized that you are a fool." "Hmm?" He only hummed in response, and she dug her nails into his hand. "You are a fool, despite how intelligent you are. Intelligent enough to surprise me. The answer has been right in front of you this whole time." It sounded as though she was speaking in riddles. "Or perhaps I am the fool," she continued. "After all, with my nose and ears being so sharp, I never realized my weakness was in my eyes." The topic had come up in Nyohhira. The reason Holo had always been so bad with reading and writing was because her eyesight was poorer than she realized. When she took her first look through reading spectacles—polished glass that could magnify writing—she had been shocked. What did that mean, then, on a larger scale? Thoughts slowly churned through Lawrence's head, and he finally replied, "...I'm looking at it with too many preconceptions?" Thinking logically, Rahden's actions did not make much sense. Being selected to be bishop was a miracle on the level of a prince falling in love with a peasant girl, yet he was keen to turn down the offer. And no matter how he looked at it, that would guarantee a stable foundation for the village for future generations. If he valued the village above all else, then Lawrence felt that he should simply become a bishop for the greater good, even if it inconvenienced him in a way. That meant what was keeping Rahden from doing so was not grounded in logic. When it came to matters of logic, of trade, then Lawrence had plenty of opinions. But he was no match for Holo when it came to sentimental matters, ones that dealt with human subtlety. "I was thinking about that great tree of a man for the entire time." Rahden was not a bear, not a stone, but a tree. He was, indeed, a lot like a tree. "Why does such a stubborn tree like him not acknowledge the concerns of those around him?" That was where Holo's thoughts began. And that meant, at the very least, that Sulto's concern for Rahden was genuine. And though they had approached the matter from the very same starting point, Holo had looked at it from an entirely different angle. "I...was honestly irritated by this. He does not know how lucky he is." Lawrence gasped in realization not because he did not know how Holo felt... ...but because he felt similarly to when he crossed a line he shouldn't have. "Do you mean...?" He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, and Holo smiled as she closed her eyes. "Yes. Pasloe. I lived there for such a long time, no?" Her tone was sleepy, as though she was recounting an old tale. "Until I was chased away, that is." Lawrence inhaled deeply and held his breath. Though to him, Pasloe was where he and Holo met, to Holo, it was a village where she had lost something dear to her. "I cared deeply for those people, and yet they were the ones who chased me away. To me, I find it absurd that this big tree was moaning and groaning over all the love and luck he has." Though there was jest in her tone, he knew she was partially serious. Her tail, laid out behind him, bristled. "But his pain is real. He is hesitant, and it hurts him. He has put his life on the line to protect his people, and they in turn worry about him from the bottom of their hearts—so why? I wondered. It does not make sense. And that is why..." She sat up, lifting herself from Lawrence. "...I pictured myself in his stead. I pictured how the tree might feel." "Rahden?"

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

She rubbed the base of her ears against his cheek. Up until that point, Lawrence had nothing to say in return to her shyness, but his thoughts finally caught up. "...Oh, right. You were going to say something right as Laud came to us, weren't you?" Had she realized something about Rahden? Now that he thought about it, she had been looking glum ever since then. He gently shook her hand, waiting for an answer, and her small hands shook back. "All you do is think and think...and I realized that you are a fool." "Hmm?" He only hummed in response, and she dug her nails into his hand. "You are a fool, despite how intelligent you are. Intelligent enough to surprise me. The answer has been right in front of you this whole time." It sounded as though she was speaking in riddles. "Or perhaps I am the fool," she continued. "After all, with my nose and ears being so sharp, I never realized my weakness was in my eyes." The topic had come up in Nyohhira. The reason Holo had always been so bad with reading and writing was because her eyesight was poorer than she realized. When she took her first look through reading spectacles—polished glass that could magnify writing—she had been shocked. What did that mean, then, on a larger scale? Thoughts slowly churned through Lawrence's head, and he finally replied, "...I'm looking at it with too many preconceptions?" Thinking logically, Rahden's actions did not make much sense. Being selected to be bishop was a miracle on the level of a prince falling in love with a peasant girl, yet he was keen to turn down the offer. And no matter how he looked at it, that would guarantee a stable foundation for the village for future generations. If he valued the village above all else, then Lawrence felt that he should simply become a bishop for the greater good, even if it inconvenienced him in a way. That meant what was keeping Rahden from doing so was not grounded in logic. When it came to matters of logic, of trade, then Lawrence had plenty of opinions. But he was no match for Holo when it came to sentimental matters, ones that dealt with human subtlety. "I was thinking about that great tree of a man for the entire time." Rahden was not a bear, not a stone, but a tree. He was, indeed, a lot like a tree. "Why does such a stubborn tree like him not acknowledge the concerns of those around him?" That was where Holo's thoughts began. And that meant, at the very least, that Sulto's concern for Rahden was genuine. And though they had approached the matter from the very same starting point, Holo had looked at it from an entirely different angle. "I...was honestly irritated by this. He does not know how lucky he is." Lawrence gasped in realization not because he did not know how Holo felt... ...but because he felt similarly to when he crossed a line he shouldn't have. "Do you mean...?" He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, and Holo smiled as she closed her eyes. "Yes. Pasloe. I lived there for such a long time, no?" Her tone was sleepy, as though she was recounting an old tale. "Until I was chased away, that is." Lawrence inhaled deeply and held his breath. Though to him, Pasloe was where he and Holo met, to Holo, it was a village where she had lost something dear to her. "I cared deeply for those people, and yet they were the ones who chased me away. To me, I find it absurd that this big tree was moaning and groaning over all the love and luck he has." Though there was jest in her tone, he knew she was partially serious. Her tail, laid out behind him, bristled. "But his pain is real. He is hesitant, and it hurts him. He has put his life on the line to protect his people, and they in turn worry about him from the bottom of their hearts—so why? I wondered. It does not make sense. And that is why..." She sat up, lifting herself from Lawrence. "...I pictured myself in his stead. I pictured how the tree might feel." "Rahden?"

"This Rahden must think he is being chased out of his village, no?" "Hmm? ...What? Chased out?" Lawrence asked in turn, not quite understanding what she meant. "Perhaps...'chased out' is not the correct wording. But it is similar." The concern of Sulto and the others was genuine, and Holo's sharp ears would have been able to discern whether or not they were secretly planning on ousting Rahden. Lawrence looked at her quizzically, and she gave a tired smile. "Think about it. Remember the hatchery pond? The thing he gave his all to build? All of those fish died." "But...I'm pretty sure the villagers are genuinely thankful for everything he's done for them. They even found a living off the deer because they didn't want to burden him anymore, right?" "Aye. Precisely. And if I were in his shoes..." Holo directed her gaze out the window to the night sky, then looked back at Lawrence, forcefully planting her face on his chest in a headbutt. "...I would be lonely." "You...would?" Holo nodded, not bothering to show him her face. "Those in Pasloe, too, used human knowledge and power to devise ways to cultivate their wheat. Their wheat was bountiful without my help. I should not have minded if someone were to come up with a way to get bountiful harvests; they used to ask me to do that for them, after all. I should have been happy for them and their harvests." *** Lawrence could tell from her voice that she was on the verge of tears, and that, in turn, pained him. But he wanted to cry for a different reason. That was because once he saw what she wanted to say, he felt a clear frustration with his own carelessness. "'Tis the same with his pond. 'Twould not be surprising that one of his reasons lay in the dream of re-creating his home. But I believe his biggest reason for doing so was to fill the stomachs of the hungry." She sniffed and continued, her tone as though she were thinking back on a time when she served Pasloe as its protector as Holo the Wisewolf. "To bring smiles to his people. To give a new home to his new family. What he did to accomplish that should not have mattered. Logically, at least." Though her head was still bowed, Lawrence could tell that she was clearly smiling when she said logically. It was as though she was laughing at herself for being a fool for feeling hurt over what happened in Pasloe. She had been lost to the sands of time in her life in Pasloe; on top of that, she had been deemed a symbol of a bad custom leftover from days gone by, and that had hurt her so much that her massive wolf form almost vanished completely. She wanted to find her way home anyway, so she could have easily caused the village more trouble on her way out, but she had not been able to bring herself to do so. Because it was not logical. The bonds of obligation and duty were not so easily shed. "It felt as though someone else existed inside me. That tree must feel the same way. He is a large man, and he seems smart. He must surely understand what that white-haired mayor says and feels. Yet he does not listen to his heart... That must be it." It was not just Sulto, Baum, and the other villagers who both praised and worried about Rahden, but the bishop of Salonia and Elsa were much the same. The deer business began because the villagers had been worried that Rahden was working too much. Everyone was thinking of him. But what was it like from his perspective? You built a hatchery pond for the people of your village, but the fish died out, and now the villagers have found jobs they can accomplish on their own. You were the only one making any effort to revitalize the hatchery, and yet the villagers insist you spend a year far away from the village to become a bishop and not worry about them. And so it would not be strange at all if this is how it sounded to Rahden: Become a bishop. That is the only purpose you serve now. That idea must have come to hang heavy over him, much in the way how inescapable the curtain of night always was.

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

"This Rahden must think he is being chased out of his village, no?" "Hmm? ...What? Chased out?" Lawrence asked in turn, not quite understanding what she meant. "Perhaps...'chased out' is not the correct wording. But it is similar." The concern of Sulto and the others was genuine, and Holo's sharp ears would have been able to discern whether or not they were secretly planning on ousting Rahden. Lawrence looked at her quizzically, and she gave a tired smile. "Think about it. Remember the hatchery pond? The thing he gave his all to build? All of those fish died." "But...I'm pretty sure the villagers are genuinely thankful for everything he's done for them. They even found a living off the deer because they didn't want to burden him anymore, right?" "Aye. Precisely. And if I were in his shoes..." Holo directed her gaze out the window to the night sky, then looked back at Lawrence, forcefully planting her face on his chest in a headbutt. "...I would be lonely." "You...would?" Holo nodded, not bothering to show him her face. "Those in Pasloe, too, used human knowledge and power to devise ways to cultivate their wheat. Their wheat was bountiful without my help. I should not have minded if someone were to come up with a way to get bountiful harvests; they used to ask me to do that for them, after all. I should have been happy for them and their harvests." *** Lawrence could tell from her voice that she was on the verge of tears, and that, in turn, pained him. But he wanted to cry for a different reason. That was because once he saw what she wanted to say, he felt a clear frustration with his own carelessness. "'Tis the same with his pond. 'Twould not be surprising that one of his reasons lay in the dream of re-creating his home. But I believe his biggest reason for doing so was to fill the stomachs of the hungry." She sniffed and continued, her tone as though she were thinking back on a time when she served Pasloe as its protector as Holo the Wisewolf. "To bring smiles to his people. To give a new home to his new family. What he did to accomplish that should not have mattered. Logically, at least." Though her head was still bowed, Lawrence could tell that she was clearly smiling when she said logically. It was as though she was laughing at herself for being a fool for feeling hurt over what happened in Pasloe. She had been lost to the sands of time in her life in Pasloe; on top of that, she had been deemed a symbol of a bad custom leftover from days gone by, and that had hurt her so much that her massive wolf form almost vanished completely. She wanted to find her way home anyway, so she could have easily caused the village more trouble on her way out, but she had not been able to bring herself to do so. Because it was not logical. The bonds of obligation and duty were not so easily shed. "It felt as though someone else existed inside me. That tree must feel the same way. He is a large man, and he seems smart. He must surely understand what that white-haired mayor says and feels. Yet he does not listen to his heart... That must be it." It was not just Sulto, Baum, and the other villagers who both praised and worried about Rahden, but the bishop of Salonia and Elsa were much the same. The deer business began because the villagers had been worried that Rahden was working too much. Everyone was thinking of him. But what was it like from his perspective? You built a hatchery pond for the people of your village, but the fish died out, and now the villagers have found jobs they can accomplish on their own. You were the only one making any effort to revitalize the hatchery, and yet the villagers insist you spend a year far away from the village to become a bishop and not worry about them. And so it would not be strange at all if this is how it sounded to Rahden: Become a bishop. That is the only purpose you serve now. That idea must have come to hang heavy over him, much in the way how inescapable the curtain of night always was.

"What?" Lawrence was genuinely surprised to hear that. "What, had you not noticed?" Holo asked, lifting her head as she sniffed again. He shook his head, laying bare his foolery. "But didn't he break free when the other villagers tried to pin him down?" "He rooted himself with his left leg only. Perhaps that is why he cannot ride a horse well; it is much too dangerous for him to mount and dismount." She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her hands. Lawrence pictured Rahden as he watched Holo, not entirely intending to look at her so intently. Even now, Rahden was large and powerful; he could easily imagine how overflowing with strength he had been in his youth. Even Lawrence had felt such exhaustion carrying a drunk Holo on his back, which made him feel sad, and realize just how much he'd aged. And so, for one who had cultivated such hardiness in one's body throughout their entire lives, it must have been an even greater shock. As hurt knees kept him from working, he could do nothing but watch the fish in the hatchery die. Either it was his knees, or the restoration was not going as planned. Watching the villagers easily carry out hunting that he could not participate in would only make his state of mind much, much worse. Now that Lawrence thought about it, Rahden seemed so miserable when asked to sit in his chair. The reason he was so attached to the hatchery was not because of the sea from his hometown. That was because he was desperately trying to keep all the water he had cupped in his hands from spilling. He was trying to maintain his memory of a time when he served as the heart of the village, when he was the great tree that held up the sky above them. Yet now his knees, which had previously held up his convictions, were giving out on him. His body would only decline further. His purpose in the village would dwindle. Rahden was being swallowed by the rapids of time and was drowning. "'Tis frightening to lose one's place in the world." Holo knew the dread of being left alone in this wide, wide world. She knew how harsh it was not to be needed anymore. Lawrence looked at her—really looked at her. He thought she had been crying, but she was smiling. "I know I called you a fool for how much you go 'round and 'round with your logic." Holo sniffed again, a smile still on her face. "But I should have noticed right away back in the church, but I had been unable to. That is because..." She paused, a bashful tone overtaking her smile before continuing, "...you gave me a home. Your care and your love made me forget all the sad things the world had to offer. Because our place is overflowing with warm springs, and it is a comfortable place." Her carefree smile only caused Lawrence's heart to ache even more. He truly felt as though he had been doing so much for Holo. But all the good deeds in the world could not assuage her loneliness forever. He pulled her small frame into a tight embrace, the physical manifestation of a wish that time would stop in place for them. And what came out of his mouth next...were spiteful remarks. "And I feed you and give you alcohol, so you really don't have much to complain about." "You fool! I have been so honest w—" "And that's why..." Lawrence somehow managed to subdue the unease in his chest, Holo still in his arms as she began to yell at him. He slowly let her go and pinched her nose, an earnest, teasing smile on his face. "That's why if I accept all of your feelings as they are, I'm going to want to give you literally everything, every last coin I have. Then you won't have any money left to drink by the next year, right?" Holo's feelings were like a big barrel of wine. They needed small portions at a time; otherwise they would overindulge, get very drunk, and fall headfirst into the barrel. "Miss Elsa just taught you the importance of family finance, didn't she?" When he brought up her name, it was almost funny how deeply Holo's face twisted into a frown.

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

"What?" Lawrence was genuinely surprised to hear that. "What, had you not noticed?" Holo asked, lifting her head as she sniffed again. He shook his head, laying bare his foolery. "But didn't he break free when the other villagers tried to pin him down?" "He rooted himself with his left leg only. Perhaps that is why he cannot ride a horse well; it is much too dangerous for him to mount and dismount." She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her hands. Lawrence pictured Rahden as he watched Holo, not entirely intending to look at her so intently. Even now, Rahden was large and powerful; he could easily imagine how overflowing with strength he had been in his youth. Even Lawrence had felt such exhaustion carrying a drunk Holo on his back, which made him feel sad, and realize just how much he'd aged. And so, for one who had cultivated such hardiness in one's body throughout their entire lives, it must have been an even greater shock. As hurt knees kept him from working, he could do nothing but watch the fish in the hatchery die. Either it was his knees, or the restoration was not going as planned. Watching the villagers easily carry out hunting that he could not participate in would only make his state of mind much, much worse. Now that Lawrence thought about it, Rahden seemed so miserable when asked to sit in his chair. The reason he was so attached to the hatchery was not because of the sea from his hometown. That was because he was desperately trying to keep all the water he had cupped in his hands from spilling. He was trying to maintain his memory of a time when he served as the heart of the village, when he was the great tree that held up the sky above them. Yet now his knees, which had previously held up his convictions, were giving out on him. His body would only decline further. His purpose in the village would dwindle. Rahden was being swallowed by the rapids of time and was drowning. "'Tis frightening to lose one's place in the world." Holo knew the dread of being left alone in this wide, wide world. She knew how harsh it was not to be needed anymore. Lawrence looked at her—really looked at her. He thought she had been crying, but she was smiling. "I know I called you a fool for how much you go 'round and 'round with your logic." Holo sniffed again, a smile still on her face. "But I should have noticed right away back in the church, but I had been unable to. That is because..." She paused, a bashful tone overtaking her smile before continuing, "...you gave me a home. Your care and your love made me forget all the sad things the world had to offer. Because our place is overflowing with warm springs, and it is a comfortable place." Her carefree smile only caused Lawrence's heart to ache even more. He truly felt as though he had been doing so much for Holo. But all the good deeds in the world could not assuage her loneliness forever. He pulled her small frame into a tight embrace, the physical manifestation of a wish that time would stop in place for them. And what came out of his mouth next...were spiteful remarks. "And I feed you and give you alcohol, so you really don't have much to complain about." "You fool! I have been so honest w—" "And that's why..." Lawrence somehow managed to subdue the unease in his chest, Holo still in his arms as she began to yell at him. He slowly let her go and pinched her nose, an earnest, teasing smile on his face. "That's why if I accept all of your feelings as they are, I'm going to want to give you literally everything, every last coin I have. Then you won't have any money left to drink by the next year, right?" Holo's feelings were like a big barrel of wine. They needed small portions at a time; otherwise they would overindulge, get very drunk, and fall headfirst into the barrel. "Miss Elsa just taught you the importance of family finance, didn't she?" When he brought up her name, it was almost funny how deeply Holo's face twisted into a frown.

Holo finally pouted. "I have not spent a single coin." She was right—since they were the ones to have solved the town's financial problem, no matter what tavern they went to, they would be treated to some drink or another. That said, she was apparently aware that she had been drinking too much; she lifted her feet onto the bed, hugged her knees, and looked away in a huff. Lawrence smiled with a sigh and said, "And I'm lonely when you're out drunk." Holo's mouth fell open slightly in astonishment as she stared at Lawrence. Then, as her stiff expression loosened, the corner of her mouth turned upward, as though she was trying desperately to keep her delight to herself. "...You are a fool." "And?" "Look at you, this is why you—" "—will always be a cute boy?" He knew she was going to call him a fool, so he decided to finish her sentence for her. She was vexed, having been beaten to the punch, yet she still smiled in delight. "It isn't about logic," Lawrence said. He was speaking about himself, but also about Rahden. Sulto was the logical one here. But Rahden was the one whose emotions could not be dealt with purely through logic alone. "Aye. The problem lies in his anxieties. The tree is not a true tree." It was the same as Holo—though her true form was a massive wolf, one big enough to swallow a man whole, that did not mean her heart was as steely and animalistic. Leaving the two parties on separate pages would be like leaving Holo by herself in Pasloe. "Then what should we do?" Lawrence asked, almost to himself, and Holo reached up to gingerly brush his cheek. "You have seen what we should do at our bathhouse in Nyohhira." "We have? Ah, you mean...when titles change hands between nobles." She was talking about when two generations of nobles came to their bathhouse. He had always thought that those who clung to their power and refused to let go were always a handful. But understanding better now that they were simply afraid of losing their place in the world, he felt like he could treat them with plenty of kindness. "You typically start off by praising all their accomplishments in life, right? When it comes to the ritual in passing down headship." "Give your thanks, but be careful not to give too much. It makes sense." Though late into his career it was, he was learning something new. He had not thought too deeply about it when they were in Nyohhira. "Then what has Rahden accomplished?" It went without saying that he had built a pond in an empty mountainside, raised countless fish, and fed the hungry. But if they were to express their true thanks, then they would have to bring up how he brought the entire village together and did all he could to reestablish the hatchery. It would have been nice if there were infinite resources and labor, but Sulto and the other villagers had finally found stability from work in the deer industry. To abandon all that and return to the unstable hatchery business was too risky. They needed to express their thanks with something else. Something that could shine a light on all the time, money, and energy he had spent on them so far. "That tree would scavenge for gems in the sea from his hometown, no? Myuri likes those bards' tales that end in a similar fashion?" "Do you mean the ones that go like, And the true gem to the villagers was the fish, and they all lived happily ever after? Those ones?" "...Hmm, it sounds rather cheap when you put it that way." Lawrence hummed, then suddenly remembered that selected passages of the translated scripture were sitting on their desk. "Oh, right, didn't Rahden say he memorized a passage from the scripture and dug out a pond in the mountains because of it?"

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

Holo finally pouted. "I have not spent a single coin." She was right—since they were the ones to have solved the town's financial problem, no matter what tavern they went to, they would be treated to some drink or another. That said, she was apparently aware that she had been drinking too much; she lifted her feet onto the bed, hugged her knees, and looked away in a huff. Lawrence smiled with a sigh and said, "And I'm lonely when you're out drunk." Holo's mouth fell open slightly in astonishment as she stared at Lawrence. Then, as her stiff expression loosened, the corner of her mouth turned upward, as though she was trying desperately to keep her delight to herself. "...You are a fool." "And?" "Look at you, this is why you—" "—will always be a cute boy?" He knew she was going to call him a fool, so he decided to finish her sentence for her. She was vexed, having been beaten to the punch, yet she still smiled in delight. "It isn't about logic," Lawrence said. He was speaking about himself, but also about Rahden. Sulto was the logical one here. But Rahden was the one whose emotions could not be dealt with purely through logic alone. "Aye. The problem lies in his anxieties. The tree is not a true tree." It was the same as Holo—though her true form was a massive wolf, one big enough to swallow a man whole, that did not mean her heart was as steely and animalistic. Leaving the two parties on separate pages would be like leaving Holo by herself in Pasloe. "Then what should we do?" Lawrence asked, almost to himself, and Holo reached up to gingerly brush his cheek. "You have seen what we should do at our bathhouse in Nyohhira." "We have? Ah, you mean...when titles change hands between nobles." She was talking about when two generations of nobles came to their bathhouse. He had always thought that those who clung to their power and refused to let go were always a handful. But understanding better now that they were simply afraid of losing their place in the world, he felt like he could treat them with plenty of kindness. "You typically start off by praising all their accomplishments in life, right? When it comes to the ritual in passing down headship." "Give your thanks, but be careful not to give too much. It makes sense." Though late into his career it was, he was learning something new. He had not thought too deeply about it when they were in Nyohhira. "Then what has Rahden accomplished?" It went without saying that he had built a pond in an empty mountainside, raised countless fish, and fed the hungry. But if they were to express their true thanks, then they would have to bring up how he brought the entire village together and did all he could to reestablish the hatchery. It would have been nice if there were infinite resources and labor, but Sulto and the other villagers had finally found stability from work in the deer industry. To abandon all that and return to the unstable hatchery business was too risky. They needed to express their thanks with something else. Something that could shine a light on all the time, money, and energy he had spent on them so far. "That tree would scavenge for gems in the sea from his hometown, no? Myuri likes those bards' tales that end in a similar fashion?" "Do you mean the ones that go like, And the true gem to the villagers was the fish, and they all lived happily ever after? Those ones?" "...Hmm, it sounds rather cheap when you put it that way." Lawrence hummed, then suddenly remembered that selected passages of the translated scripture were sitting on their desk. "Oh, right, didn't Rahden say he memorized a passage from the scripture and dug out a pond in the mountains because of it?"

As he flipped through it, Lawrence found plenty of fables he knew, and the story about the fish was included, too. Similarly, he found other passages about food; they must be popular. With the passages written in the vernacular, Lawrence was surprised at how easy they were to understand. He almost felt a fool for trying so hard to learn how to read the church's script. As page after page went by, his heart was captured by a particular sentence that leaped out at him. "Ah, yes, this gem of the sea is—Mm? What is the matter?" Holo peered curiously at him. With Lawrence's gaze at the booklet in his hands, Holo squinted at the writing on the page, and her tail puffed up not long after. "Oh ho! I see!" "What do you think?" Lawrence asked her, and Holo was shockingly happy about it. "I was just thinking the same thing. 'Twas almost as though I had been waiting for you to find that sentence." "Huh? What do you mean?" There must have been a tacit understanding between them. Holo pursed her lips in an arrogant manner, then broke out into a grin, one of her fangs poking out from her lips as she said, "Coral. The tree of the sea, no?" "Yeah. What about it?" "And what is it that the villagers hunt now?" "That would be... Oh!" Deer. They were inhabitants of the forest, branch-like antlers growing from their heads. "And what you said when you sold that rancid powder." The sulfur powder they got from Nyohhira was something one could dissolve in hot water and experience a hot spring. That was what Lawrence told the villagers when he sold the powder to the townsfolk as they were elated by the upcoming festival. They could dig a hole in the ground and make their own hot spring. "The villagers have only survived thus far because of the tree. It matters not whose insight dictated they settle on deer hunting, because it was none other than the tree who filled their stomachs before." "Which means we could plant some of the deer antlers in the pond, right?" The pond he had built had, at one point, most certainly been filled with gems. With things that could actually be touched and obtained, unlike the coral, which eventually became unobtainable in the man's hometown. "And this would be the end, yes?" Holo asked, pointing to the scripture. Described within was a well-known scene of God bestowing faith into priests of the future. "There's no point if Rahden doesn't become a bishop. But I think this could work." Though Rahden and the rest of the villagers were not quite seeing eye to eye at the moment, that was not what either truly wanted. They should be walking shoulder to shoulder together into a brilliant future. They should be able to spend many joyous days into the future, just as Lawrence and Holo found Nyohhira together. "The villagers can show their appreciation for everything Rahden's done, and it should get across to him that they hope he takes on a new role." "And, most importantly," Holo grinned, no trace of tears in her eyes, "it will not be long before we can have delicious trout again." Lawrence laughed at her appetite. "That's also true," he replied. Though Lawrence and Holo had come to their own conclusion, it was nothing more than a guess. If things went forward without them confirming how Rahden actually felt, then things would warp even further. The first thing the following morning, they went to the church and spoke with Elsa. Since things were getting nowhere in the present situation, Elsa agreed to go along with their plan. And so, they decided to see how Rahden truly felt, but Holo stopped Lawrence right outside the man's room. "I believe I should go in alone." "What?" "This is a delicate matter for a boy. A sweet lady such as myself will make it much easier for him to open up," she said, almost astonished that she had to explain this to him. Yet Lawrence remained unconvinced; Elsa reached out from behind him to pat him on the shoulder. "Leave this to her," she said. *** If Elsa said so, then he had no choice but to obey.

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

As he flipped through it, Lawrence found plenty of fables he knew, and the story about the fish was included, too. Similarly, he found other passages about food; they must be popular. With the passages written in the vernacular, Lawrence was surprised at how easy they were to understand. He almost felt a fool for trying so hard to learn how to read the church's script. As page after page went by, his heart was captured by a particular sentence that leaped out at him. "Ah, yes, this gem of the sea is—Mm? What is the matter?" Holo peered curiously at him. With Lawrence's gaze at the booklet in his hands, Holo squinted at the writing on the page, and her tail puffed up not long after. "Oh ho! I see!" "What do you think?" Lawrence asked her, and Holo was shockingly happy about it. "I was just thinking the same thing. 'Twas almost as though I had been waiting for you to find that sentence." "Huh? What do you mean?" There must have been a tacit understanding between them. Holo pursed her lips in an arrogant manner, then broke out into a grin, one of her fangs poking out from her lips as she said, "Coral. The tree of the sea, no?" "Yeah. What about it?" "And what is it that the villagers hunt now?" "That would be... Oh!" Deer. They were inhabitants of the forest, branch-like antlers growing from their heads. "And what you said when you sold that rancid powder." The sulfur powder they got from Nyohhira was something one could dissolve in hot water and experience a hot spring. That was what Lawrence told the villagers when he sold the powder to the townsfolk as they were elated by the upcoming festival. They could dig a hole in the ground and make their own hot spring. "The villagers have only survived thus far because of the tree. It matters not whose insight dictated they settle on deer hunting, because it was none other than the tree who filled their stomachs before." "Which means we could plant some of the deer antlers in the pond, right?" The pond he had built had, at one point, most certainly been filled with gems. With things that could actually be touched and obtained, unlike the coral, which eventually became unobtainable in the man's hometown. "And this would be the end, yes?" Holo asked, pointing to the scripture. Described within was a well-known scene of God bestowing faith into priests of the future. "There's no point if Rahden doesn't become a bishop. But I think this could work." Though Rahden and the rest of the villagers were not quite seeing eye to eye at the moment, that was not what either truly wanted. They should be walking shoulder to shoulder together into a brilliant future. They should be able to spend many joyous days into the future, just as Lawrence and Holo found Nyohhira together. "The villagers can show their appreciation for everything Rahden's done, and it should get across to him that they hope he takes on a new role." "And, most importantly," Holo grinned, no trace of tears in her eyes, "it will not be long before we can have delicious trout again." Lawrence laughed at her appetite. "That's also true," he replied. Though Lawrence and Holo had come to their own conclusion, it was nothing more than a guess. If things went forward without them confirming how Rahden actually felt, then things would warp even further. The first thing the following morning, they went to the church and spoke with Elsa. Since things were getting nowhere in the present situation, Elsa agreed to go along with their plan. And so, they decided to see how Rahden truly felt, but Holo stopped Lawrence right outside the man's room. "I believe I should go in alone." "What?" "This is a delicate matter for a boy. A sweet lady such as myself will make it much easier for him to open up," she said, almost astonished that she had to explain this to him. Yet Lawrence remained unconvinced; Elsa reached out from behind him to pat him on the shoulder. "Leave this to her," she said. *** If Elsa said so, then he had no choice but to obey.

"I hope she'll be okay... I hope she doesn't make him angry," Lawrence expressed his unease, and Elsa drew up her shoulders. "Miss Holo is quite adept when it comes to matters such as these," she said. "But I don't understand why she acts so debauched all the time." They did not have to wait very long. Holo emerged not long after, a smug grin on her face. "Next, the mayor." Though it likely went well, Lawrence wondered how Rahden was doing. He tried to peek inside, but Holo reached up and pinched his cheek. "Look at how inconsiderate you are." She was telling him to leave the man be. Lawrence rubbed his cheek as he reminded himself that Holo was, indeed, the wisewolf—her recent degeneracy almost made him forget. When they proposed their idea to Sulto, Lawrence, Elsa, and the Salonia bishop were present. When Sulto heard the idea, his eyes widened in surprise, and he forgot to breathe; he almost went completely white. The first reason being in response to his own ignorance for not realizing that Rahden had been getting weaker. The second reason being that he had not even considered that his urging Rahden to take a break would be seen as him trying to oust him in the eyes of the other. It was not because Sulto was particularly dense, but simply because he respected Rahden with his entire body and soul. The other villagers were similar; they were devastated that their feelings of gratitude had been taken the wrong way this entire time. When Lawrence explained to them what sort of event they could hold to show their gratitude to Rahden, they all looked like desert-dwellers who had seen the rain for the first time in ten years. Having finally learned how Rahden felt, the matter of becoming a bishop fell by the wayside, and they prioritized showing the man just how grateful they were for him. The idea of doing this in the village pond came up, but considering how people would come and go from it, they decided putting deer antlers inside it was not very good for the possibility of the hatchery's revival, and Holo insisted that it be done in a livelier, more exciting manner, so they decided to hold it in Salonia. Just like Laud, there were many in town who remembered the hunger that was kept at bay thanks to Rahden. When Lawrence brought up the idea to Laud, the merchant readily volunteered to find laborers to dig holes. Lawrence then snuck in his merchant's craftiness and his opinions as a bathhouse owner. "You want us to make an impromptu pond into a hot spring?" Laud, of course, immediately recognized that Lawrence was trying to sell them sulfur, and he made sure to convey that in his gaze. "Rahden's knees are going bad, you see. Why do you think hot-spring cures are so popular with the elderly?" When Lawrence asked, Laud blinked. "Because it helps, right? I know the rumors—it's like a panacea." "In reality, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I do believe you will see solid results." Merchants were a curious lot. Laud leaned forward, interested. "A body floats in the water, doesn't it?" Lawrence went on. "In hot springs, you can even move around like you're still young." Laud nodded, interested. "And," Lawrence continued, "I do want Lord Rahden to experience this, but—" Laud cleared his throat. "If we are to dig a hole, make it into a hot spring, and hold this event during the festival, then we'll need to establish groundwork in all relevant fields. Since you recommend I purchase a lot of your sulfur, then how do you feel about this for commission?" He produced an abacus from his belt and quickly set the beads into a particular place. With a smile, Lawrence reached over and moved some around. "Hmm... Very well, then. I suppose I'll order some drinks that will go with our impromptu baths." Lawrence and Laud shook on it. When Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who had been watching the exchange, she only gave him an exasperated shrug.

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

"I hope she'll be okay... I hope she doesn't make him angry," Lawrence expressed his unease, and Elsa drew up her shoulders. "Miss Holo is quite adept when it comes to matters such as these," she said. "But I don't understand why she acts so debauched all the time." They did not have to wait very long. Holo emerged not long after, a smug grin on her face. "Next, the mayor." Though it likely went well, Lawrence wondered how Rahden was doing. He tried to peek inside, but Holo reached up and pinched his cheek. "Look at how inconsiderate you are." She was telling him to leave the man be. Lawrence rubbed his cheek as he reminded himself that Holo was, indeed, the wisewolf—her recent degeneracy almost made him forget. When they proposed their idea to Sulto, Lawrence, Elsa, and the Salonia bishop were present. When Sulto heard the idea, his eyes widened in surprise, and he forgot to breathe; he almost went completely white. The first reason being in response to his own ignorance for not realizing that Rahden had been getting weaker. The second reason being that he had not even considered that his urging Rahden to take a break would be seen as him trying to oust him in the eyes of the other. It was not because Sulto was particularly dense, but simply because he respected Rahden with his entire body and soul. The other villagers were similar; they were devastated that their feelings of gratitude had been taken the wrong way this entire time. When Lawrence explained to them what sort of event they could hold to show their gratitude to Rahden, they all looked like desert-dwellers who had seen the rain for the first time in ten years. Having finally learned how Rahden felt, the matter of becoming a bishop fell by the wayside, and they prioritized showing the man just how grateful they were for him. The idea of doing this in the village pond came up, but considering how people would come and go from it, they decided putting deer antlers inside it was not very good for the possibility of the hatchery's revival, and Holo insisted that it be done in a livelier, more exciting manner, so they decided to hold it in Salonia. Just like Laud, there were many in town who remembered the hunger that was kept at bay thanks to Rahden. When Lawrence brought up the idea to Laud, the merchant readily volunteered to find laborers to dig holes. Lawrence then snuck in his merchant's craftiness and his opinions as a bathhouse owner. "You want us to make an impromptu pond into a hot spring?" Laud, of course, immediately recognized that Lawrence was trying to sell them sulfur, and he made sure to convey that in his gaze. "Rahden's knees are going bad, you see. Why do you think hot-spring cures are so popular with the elderly?" When Lawrence asked, Laud blinked. "Because it helps, right? I know the rumors—it's like a panacea." "In reality, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I do believe you will see solid results." Merchants were a curious lot. Laud leaned forward, interested. "A body floats in the water, doesn't it?" Lawrence went on. "In hot springs, you can even move around like you're still young." Laud nodded, interested. "And," Lawrence continued, "I do want Lord Rahden to experience this, but—" Laud cleared his throat. "If we are to dig a hole, make it into a hot spring, and hold this event during the festival, then we'll need to establish groundwork in all relevant fields. Since you recommend I purchase a lot of your sulfur, then how do you feel about this for commission?" He produced an abacus from his belt and quickly set the beads into a particular place. With a smile, Lawrence reached over and moved some around. "Hmm... Very well, then. I suppose I'll order some drinks that will go with our impromptu baths." Lawrence and Laud shook on it. When Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who had been watching the exchange, she only gave him an exasperated shrug.

And since Lawrence was a bathhouse owner, he busied himself with work, directing workers as they lay bricks in the hole they had dug by the river. Holo sat not too far away on a blanket, sipping her drinks as she watched and occasionally writing things down in her diary. Rahden showed up on the second day, and there was a scene as the villagers tried to stop him from helping. He must have been the sort to always keep himself busy in one way or another for peace of mind. Lawrence gave him the job of hammering down the bottom of the holes to firm up the ground. That way, his knees were protected, and Rahden indeed did a wonderful job. The final day of the market came at last, and people began turning their attention to the festival. Salonia's bishop took charge of the affair, and thus began a little festival to celebrate all those who worked hard to bring food besides the loathsome herring to the tables of all those not just in Salonia, but in the surrounding communities as well. They poured boiled river water into the holes, and they filled them with Lawrence's sulfur. First, the village children performed a little play that told Rahden's story, of his voyage from Rahdelli to where the village was now, in front of the pond. Baum was in charge up until the point Rahden came to Salonia. The story then shifted to the present Rahden. Rahden's face was bright red as he sat silently—he was likely embarrassed—and Sulto came to kneel before him. "Lord Rahden, this is for you." What he handed to him was a hook seemingly combined with the crest of the Church. "Please draw up a gem from this lake with your faith." Rahden looked as though he was about to start yelling at any moment, but he looked like this because he was tensing his face in order to keep from crying. He took the hook made from the Church crest in hand and stood up. His movements were powerful; it was hard to imagine that his knees were not in the best shape. But before he took a step, he turned to Sulto and said, "My knees are no good. May I borrow your shoulder?" Sulto nodded, eyes wide, and the villagers rushed forward, offering to be his support. Then, with the entire village surrounding him, Rahden tossed the hook into the water. He had done this once upon a time, every day, from sunup to sundown at the sea in his hometown, and not once in three years had he found any coral. But there were plenty of deer antlers submerged in the water. This was proof of people's livelihood, the very same Rahden had come to preserve at the end of his long journey. "Behold! A divine miracle!" Salonia's bishop spoke in a booming voice, befitting his station, and the antlers were brought up to the side of the pond. There was a deafening cheer and applause, and the church bells rang, too. Overcome with emotion, Rahden turned to Sulto to express his thanks. But it was not quite time for that yet. "Lord Rahden." The one who appeared was Elsa—the spitting image of a servant of God, whose stiff expression did not falter even in the midst of a celebration. "Here." She politely handed him the selection of passages from the scripture, translated by Col, open to a specific page. "This is..." Baum appeared before the perplexed tree of a man. There was something odd resting on his shoulders. "Lord Rahden! Take this, too!" He practically shoved into Rahden's arms a net. It was a fishing net, one he had used at the hatchery. With the scripture booklet in one hand, and the fishing net in the other, Rahden looked confused. Then, Salonia's bishop appeared with feigned ignorance and said, "Rahden, devout follower of God. He speaks to you in accordance to scripture." Rahden inhaled, waiting for the next passage. "Set aside your fishing net, which you use to take in fish. Now you must become a fisherman who will take in people... How does that sound?" That phrase was what God said to a legendary saint who spread God's teachings.

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

And since Lawrence was a bathhouse owner, he busied himself with work, directing workers as they lay bricks in the hole they had dug by the river. Holo sat not too far away on a blanket, sipping her drinks as she watched and occasionally writing things down in her diary. Rahden showed up on the second day, and there was a scene as the villagers tried to stop him from helping. He must have been the sort to always keep himself busy in one way or another for peace of mind. Lawrence gave him the job of hammering down the bottom of the holes to firm up the ground. That way, his knees were protected, and Rahden indeed did a wonderful job. The final day of the market came at last, and people began turning their attention to the festival. Salonia's bishop took charge of the affair, and thus began a little festival to celebrate all those who worked hard to bring food besides the loathsome herring to the tables of all those not just in Salonia, but in the surrounding communities as well. They poured boiled river water into the holes, and they filled them with Lawrence's sulfur. First, the village children performed a little play that told Rahden's story, of his voyage from Rahdelli to where the village was now, in front of the pond. Baum was in charge up until the point Rahden came to Salonia. The story then shifted to the present Rahden. Rahden's face was bright red as he sat silently—he was likely embarrassed—and Sulto came to kneel before him. "Lord Rahden, this is for you." What he handed to him was a hook seemingly combined with the crest of the Church. "Please draw up a gem from this lake with your faith." Rahden looked as though he was about to start yelling at any moment, but he looked like this because he was tensing his face in order to keep from crying. He took the hook made from the Church crest in hand and stood up. His movements were powerful; it was hard to imagine that his knees were not in the best shape. But before he took a step, he turned to Sulto and said, "My knees are no good. May I borrow your shoulder?" Sulto nodded, eyes wide, and the villagers rushed forward, offering to be his support. Then, with the entire village surrounding him, Rahden tossed the hook into the water. He had done this once upon a time, every day, from sunup to sundown at the sea in his hometown, and not once in three years had he found any coral. But there were plenty of deer antlers submerged in the water. This was proof of people's livelihood, the very same Rahden had come to preserve at the end of his long journey. "Behold! A divine miracle!" Salonia's bishop spoke in a booming voice, befitting his station, and the antlers were brought up to the side of the pond. There was a deafening cheer and applause, and the church bells rang, too. Overcome with emotion, Rahden turned to Sulto to express his thanks. But it was not quite time for that yet. "Lord Rahden." The one who appeared was Elsa—the spitting image of a servant of God, whose stiff expression did not falter even in the midst of a celebration. "Here." She politely handed him the selection of passages from the scripture, translated by Col, open to a specific page. "This is..." Baum appeared before the perplexed tree of a man. There was something odd resting on his shoulders. "Lord Rahden! Take this, too!" He practically shoved into Rahden's arms a net. It was a fishing net, one he had used at the hatchery. With the scripture booklet in one hand, and the fishing net in the other, Rahden looked confused. Then, Salonia's bishop appeared with feigned ignorance and said, "Rahden, devout follower of God. He speaks to you in accordance to scripture." Rahden inhaled, waiting for the next passage. "Set aside your fishing net, which you use to take in fish. Now you must become a fisherman who will take in people... How does that sound?" That phrase was what God said to a legendary saint who spread God's teachings.

When the bishop said that, Rahden smiled with a cough, hunched over, and pressed the scripture and fishing net to his chest. "I will do...as you command." Sulto and the other villagers, who had been watching with bated breath, erupted into a cheer. They all lifted the massive man into the air. Elsa, who knew what was happening, took the scripture booklet from him. Rahden covered his eyes as he smiled, and the villagers tossed him into the air. "Now, into the famous waters of the hot spring village, Nyohhira!" Rahden was tossed into the water with a big splash. Now no one could tell if another was crying. The entertainers then began to play their instruments, and food and drink were brought out. Lawrence felt his eyes watering, a reaction ill-suited to his age, as he watched the villagers laugh with delight—some indulging in a full-body soak while others tentatively dipped their toes in—when someone tapped him on the arm. "Dear, there is not enough food or drink." Holo, who already had lamb skewers in her mouth, extended her right hand to him. Lawrence's shoulders dropped and took her hand. She stood prim and proper like a princess, and he stood beside her, gripping her hand tightly. This was her place—a most precious spot for her to rest amid the torrent of time. And from her favorite spot, she looked up to Lawrence and said, "Why don't you become a fisherman so that you may net plenty of coins? For me?" Lawrence opened his mouth to speak, but he decided not to. He smiled, and with a sigh he replied, "Of course. As you wish." Holo grinned, baring her canines. The festival mood had come early to Salonia. Perhaps it was written in the annals that within the crowd was a former traveling merchant who was simply no match for his young wife. *** Interlude: This is a tale of when Col and Myuri still lived in the bathhouse. Though winter stays were most popular in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, summer saw its fair share of business as well. Its mountainous location made it cool all year round. Having an ale or wine chilled in the cold rooms filled with snow that had accumulated over the winter, after taking a dip in the hot baths, was a temptation difficult to resist for the sinful alcoholics. That said, there were fewer people visiting in summer than in the winter, and the musicians and dancers had their own businesses to attend to in their homelands, so they were not present. This made summer a rather mild, but relatively lively season to visit Nyohhira. The guests staying at the Spice and Wolf bathhouse, too, had all gone fishing together, so that made for a quiet morning at the establishment. "Haaa..." Holo gave a big yawn; after seeing the guests off, she lay her favorite blanket down in front of the hearth, draped a thin throw over her shoulders, and curled up like a sleepy hound. Her wolf tail, which was typically constricted and hidden when others were around, thumped against the floor in great delight, and she snored quietly. A soft heat wafted from the gently smoldering embers, a perfect complement to Nyohhira's cool summers. And of course, sitting beside Holo was a cup of some alcoholic beverage for her to sip when she awoke. Holo was so devoted to her daily routine of debauchery, and that made bathhouse owner Lawrence smile slightly. He gazed out the open window, thinking that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for all the little tasks he had to take care of. He should take a page out of Holo's book and learn to enjoy these peaceful moments. With that thought in mind, he came to sit beside Holo, running his hand through her beautiful flaxen hair and stroking her wolf ears. Her eyes popped open in slight irritation, but she soon shifted to place her head on his lap. And her tail began to sway happily once again. If only moments like these would last forever. Right after that thought crossed Lawrence's mind, the inn door was flung open with a slam, accompanied by a girl's loud and energetic voice.

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

When the bishop said that, Rahden smiled with a cough, hunched over, and pressed the scripture and fishing net to his chest. "I will do...as you command." Sulto and the other villagers, who had been watching with bated breath, erupted into a cheer. They all lifted the massive man into the air. Elsa, who knew what was happening, took the scripture booklet from him. Rahden covered his eyes as he smiled, and the villagers tossed him into the air. "Now, into the famous waters of the hot spring village, Nyohhira!" Rahden was tossed into the water with a big splash. Now no one could tell if another was crying. The entertainers then began to play their instruments, and food and drink were brought out. Lawrence felt his eyes watering, a reaction ill-suited to his age, as he watched the villagers laugh with delight—some indulging in a full-body soak while others tentatively dipped their toes in—when someone tapped him on the arm. "Dear, there is not enough food or drink." Holo, who already had lamb skewers in her mouth, extended her right hand to him. Lawrence's shoulders dropped and took her hand. She stood prim and proper like a princess, and he stood beside her, gripping her hand tightly. This was her place—a most precious spot for her to rest amid the torrent of time. And from her favorite spot, she looked up to Lawrence and said, "Why don't you become a fisherman so that you may net plenty of coins? For me?" Lawrence opened his mouth to speak, but he decided not to. He smiled, and with a sigh he replied, "Of course. As you wish." Holo grinned, baring her canines. The festival mood had come early to Salonia. Perhaps it was written in the annals that within the crowd was a former traveling merchant who was simply no match for his young wife. *** Interlude: This is a tale of when Col and Myuri still lived in the bathhouse. Though winter stays were most popular in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, summer saw its fair share of business as well. Its mountainous location made it cool all year round. Having an ale or wine chilled in the cold rooms filled with snow that had accumulated over the winter, after taking a dip in the hot baths, was a temptation difficult to resist for the sinful alcoholics. That said, there were fewer people visiting in summer than in the winter, and the musicians and dancers had their own businesses to attend to in their homelands, so they were not present. This made summer a rather mild, but relatively lively season to visit Nyohhira. The guests staying at the Spice and Wolf bathhouse, too, had all gone fishing together, so that made for a quiet morning at the establishment. "Haaa..." Holo gave a big yawn; after seeing the guests off, she lay her favorite blanket down in front of the hearth, draped a thin throw over her shoulders, and curled up like a sleepy hound. Her wolf tail, which was typically constricted and hidden when others were around, thumped against the floor in great delight, and she snored quietly. A soft heat wafted from the gently smoldering embers, a perfect complement to Nyohhira's cool summers. And of course, sitting beside Holo was a cup of some alcoholic beverage for her to sip when she awoke. Holo was so devoted to her daily routine of debauchery, and that made bathhouse owner Lawrence smile slightly. He gazed out the open window, thinking that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for all the little tasks he had to take care of. He should take a page out of Holo's book and learn to enjoy these peaceful moments. With that thought in mind, he came to sit beside Holo, running his hand through her beautiful flaxen hair and stroking her wolf ears. Her eyes popped open in slight irritation, but she soon shifted to place her head on his lap. And her tail began to sway happily once again. If only moments like these would last forever. Right after that thought crossed Lawrence's mind, the inn door was flung open with a slam, accompanied by a girl's loud and energetic voice.

Loud footsteps then began to shake the floor, and the girl's voice grew frantic. "Brother! Where are you?! Broootheeer!" The voice belonged to their daughter, Myuri. It was not long ago that they celebrated her coming of age with all their close friends, yet she was as rambunctious as always. "What is that little fool on about now...?" Though she and her daughter were near-mirror images of each other, the centuries-old Holo did not sound too pleased about the ordeal. "Well, she sounds eager to tell us something. You don't think she's plotting some prank again, is she?" "She called for little Col, though." The boy Col, who Lawrence and Holo met while they were traveling together, was now a valuable individual who supported the bathhouse's operations, and one whom Myuri looked up to as her older brother. They were family. "I guess it'd be weird for her to ask for Col if she were plotting a prank." But the way she was stomping about gave Lawrence a bad feeling and he furrowed his brow; Holo, still laying down, reached for her glass of booze that sat next to her. Her ears then stood on end all of a sudden, and she gave a disgruntled sigh. The reasons for which did not take long to manifest. "Mother! Father! Where are you?!" It was unusual for Myuri to call for her parents, considering how much they scolded her, which earned a heavy sigh from Holo. This could not be a good thing. Just before lunch, Lawrence armed himself with a bag filled with sausage, a pot, and a large hemp sack strapped to his person. Standing beside him was Col, who carried a sack full of bread and, strangely enough, a copy of the scripture under his arm. "Safe travels. Bring back something special to share." Hanna, the woman in charge of the kitchen, saw Lawrence and Col off with the same enthusiasm as she did the guests who went fishing earlier this morning. The one who gave the most enthusiastic response and a wave of the hand was Myuri as she dashed ahead. Holo followed behind, a vexed look on her face, though she did seem to be enjoying herself, all things considered. The boys, carrying all the luggage, were behind them. "Hey, sorry, Col, for making you do this on your day off." "Oh, no, I should be apologizing to you, Mister Lawrence." Though they apologized to each other, the one who was truly at fault was Myuri. "There's a demon in the mountains?" Myuri, her eyes gleaming, her silver wolf ears and tail fidgeting in excitement, had come to her parents to ask just that. Apparently, some of the village children who had ventured into an untouched part of the mountain had come back alarmed and flush-faced. "The mountain is Mother's territory, right? If there's a demon here, we have to get rid of it!" She loved tales of adventure; she had taken a branch in hand and was swinging it around like a sword. Col and Lawrence exchanged glances—this was when they would typically scold her for behaving immaturely, but in a surprising twist, it was Holo who spoke up this time. "It rained not long ago, no? There should be plenty of mushrooms sprouting in the mountains." The one who held the most sway in the bathhouse was not its owner, but Holo, who had a very short leash on her husband. And so, they all ended up going mushroom picking together. "Brother! Father! Hurry up!" Myuri dashed ahead along the almost imperceptible mountain path. The trek was not a problem for Holo, either, and she proceeded forward with light steps. They were wolf parent and child, of course, but not only were Lawrence and Col merely human, they were also saddled with baggage. They were so breathlessly concentrated on keeping up that they soon lost their way. "We'd have to live out the rest of our lives in the woods if we make either of them angry..." "Ha-ha-ha..." Col laughed dryly. "But," Lawrence continued, "what did she mean by demon?"

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

Loud footsteps then began to shake the floor, and the girl's voice grew frantic. "Brother! Where are you?! Broootheeer!" The voice belonged to their daughter, Myuri. It was not long ago that they celebrated her coming of age with all their close friends, yet she was as rambunctious as always. "What is that little fool on about now...?" Though she and her daughter were near-mirror images of each other, the centuries-old Holo did not sound too pleased about the ordeal. "Well, she sounds eager to tell us something. You don't think she's plotting some prank again, is she?" "She called for little Col, though." The boy Col, who Lawrence and Holo met while they were traveling together, was now a valuable individual who supported the bathhouse's operations, and one whom Myuri looked up to as her older brother. They were family. "I guess it'd be weird for her to ask for Col if she were plotting a prank." But the way she was stomping about gave Lawrence a bad feeling and he furrowed his brow; Holo, still laying down, reached for her glass of booze that sat next to her. Her ears then stood on end all of a sudden, and she gave a disgruntled sigh. The reasons for which did not take long to manifest. "Mother! Father! Where are you?!" It was unusual for Myuri to call for her parents, considering how much they scolded her, which earned a heavy sigh from Holo. This could not be a good thing. Just before lunch, Lawrence armed himself with a bag filled with sausage, a pot, and a large hemp sack strapped to his person. Standing beside him was Col, who carried a sack full of bread and, strangely enough, a copy of the scripture under his arm. "Safe travels. Bring back something special to share." Hanna, the woman in charge of the kitchen, saw Lawrence and Col off with the same enthusiasm as she did the guests who went fishing earlier this morning. The one who gave the most enthusiastic response and a wave of the hand was Myuri as she dashed ahead. Holo followed behind, a vexed look on her face, though she did seem to be enjoying herself, all things considered. The boys, carrying all the luggage, were behind them. "Hey, sorry, Col, for making you do this on your day off." "Oh, no, I should be apologizing to you, Mister Lawrence." Though they apologized to each other, the one who was truly at fault was Myuri. "There's a demon in the mountains?" Myuri, her eyes gleaming, her silver wolf ears and tail fidgeting in excitement, had come to her parents to ask just that. Apparently, some of the village children who had ventured into an untouched part of the mountain had come back alarmed and flush-faced. "The mountain is Mother's territory, right? If there's a demon here, we have to get rid of it!" She loved tales of adventure; she had taken a branch in hand and was swinging it around like a sword. Col and Lawrence exchanged glances—this was when they would typically scold her for behaving immaturely, but in a surprising twist, it was Holo who spoke up this time. "It rained not long ago, no? There should be plenty of mushrooms sprouting in the mountains." The one who held the most sway in the bathhouse was not its owner, but Holo, who had a very short leash on her husband. And so, they all ended up going mushroom picking together. "Brother! Father! Hurry up!" Myuri dashed ahead along the almost imperceptible mountain path. The trek was not a problem for Holo, either, and she proceeded forward with light steps. They were wolf parent and child, of course, but not only were Lawrence and Col merely human, they were also saddled with baggage. They were so breathlessly concentrated on keeping up that they soon lost their way. "We'd have to live out the rest of our lives in the woods if we make either of them angry..." "Ha-ha-ha..." Col laughed dryly. "But," Lawrence continued, "what did she mean by demon?"

It seemed she'd thought he would be perfect for exorcising demons. "I'm not sure... Anyone could mistake a deer or a rabbit for one if they ventured into the mountains in the middle of the night in a test of courage." "Hmm... Oh, there's a marker. The village kids must have left this here." The paths the adults used to take into the mountains were relatively safe, but the adventurous spirit of the unruly children lay beyond unmarked paths. "We don't even come around here during hunting season," Col remarked. "I hope it's not too far from here..." Lawrence readjusted the packs on his back, following after the carefree wolf tails as they slipped through the trees. After trekking for a little longer, the contrasting furs finally stopped moving. "Phew... Is this it?" "Yeah, I think so." Even though Myuri wasn't carrying anything, she had not broken a sweat at all. As Lawrence pulled out a waterskin full of booze—for Holo, who he knew was going to start begging him for a drink any moment now—he asked, "What did you mean by demon? A bear, or something?" "What...? By demon, I mean demon! No one would confuse a demon with a bear, obviously." Indeed, the village children would not get their animals wrong. In that case, it might be a recluse who dressed as a demon. Occasionally, in remote mountains such as this, there lived people who could not find a place living alongside others. "Is there anyone around?" Lawrence asked Holo as she took a swig of wine from the waterskin, and her ears stood on end. "That little fool would pick up on them if there were." After wiping a drop of wine that clung to the corner of her mouth on Lawrence's clothes, she stretched. "Mmm. What a nice spot. 'Tis not far from the bathhouse. There must be more nice spots like this." People came to the mountain to either hunt animals or forage for food, so these types of places were rare. "Then what did the children see?" Holo did not respond to Lawrence's question. She shoved her wineskin back at Lawrence and moved to follow her daughter. Myuri led the way, pretending this was an adventure; Lawrence and Col did as Holo directed and were busy picking any mushrooms and blackberries she located. The reason they brought a pot up was because the queen of the bathhouse had insisted they make mushroom stew for lunch. Lawrence knew that if he told her the one who wanted the stew should carry the pot herself, he would have found himself abandoned in the mountains. As he finished that thought, he noticed Myuri standing still. She seemed to have come across a particularly large tree. The whole thing was covered in moss, and there was a hole near its roots roomy enough for one large bear to comfortably live in. It was a big, ancient tree. "It's magnificent," he remarked. Ignoring the way her daughter stared up at the large tree, Holo said, "Shall we eat here?" The shadows of the forest trees told them that the sun was well past its zenith. They needed to get started, otherwise it would be sunset by the time they arrived home. Lawrence and Col put down their things, when Myuri suddenly whirled around. "What?! But we haven't found the demon yet!" "The village children told you this, didn't they? You sure they weren't just teasing you?" Lawrence asked, and Myuri puffed out her cheeks. "Okay, okay," he sighed. "Once we're done eating, your old man'll help you find this demon." "Aww..." She wanted to resume her adventure right away, and she pouted, sulking. Even though she was just old enough for them to start thinking about marrying her off, she still acted like a child; this both relieved and vexed Lawrence at the same time. Though he was delighted to watch his daughter grow up, he had recently been beset by fits of loneliness at the prospect of letting her go. He took her hand and said to her, "Let's eat first." Myuri was just about to do as she was told, reluctantly, when her head whipped around in another direction. ***

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

It seemed she'd thought he would be perfect for exorcising demons. "I'm not sure... Anyone could mistake a deer or a rabbit for one if they ventured into the mountains in the middle of the night in a test of courage." "Hmm... Oh, there's a marker. The village kids must have left this here." The paths the adults used to take into the mountains were relatively safe, but the adventurous spirit of the unruly children lay beyond unmarked paths. "We don't even come around here during hunting season," Col remarked. "I hope it's not too far from here..." Lawrence readjusted the packs on his back, following after the carefree wolf tails as they slipped through the trees. After trekking for a little longer, the contrasting furs finally stopped moving. "Phew... Is this it?" "Yeah, I think so." Even though Myuri wasn't carrying anything, she had not broken a sweat at all. As Lawrence pulled out a waterskin full of booze—for Holo, who he knew was going to start begging him for a drink any moment now—he asked, "What did you mean by demon? A bear, or something?" "What...? By demon, I mean demon! No one would confuse a demon with a bear, obviously." Indeed, the village children would not get their animals wrong. In that case, it might be a recluse who dressed as a demon. Occasionally, in remote mountains such as this, there lived people who could not find a place living alongside others. "Is there anyone around?" Lawrence asked Holo as she took a swig of wine from the waterskin, and her ears stood on end. "That little fool would pick up on them if there were." After wiping a drop of wine that clung to the corner of her mouth on Lawrence's clothes, she stretched. "Mmm. What a nice spot. 'Tis not far from the bathhouse. There must be more nice spots like this." People came to the mountain to either hunt animals or forage for food, so these types of places were rare. "Then what did the children see?" Holo did not respond to Lawrence's question. She shoved her wineskin back at Lawrence and moved to follow her daughter. Myuri led the way, pretending this was an adventure; Lawrence and Col did as Holo directed and were busy picking any mushrooms and blackberries she located. The reason they brought a pot up was because the queen of the bathhouse had insisted they make mushroom stew for lunch. Lawrence knew that if he told her the one who wanted the stew should carry the pot herself, he would have found himself abandoned in the mountains. As he finished that thought, he noticed Myuri standing still. She seemed to have come across a particularly large tree. The whole thing was covered in moss, and there was a hole near its roots roomy enough for one large bear to comfortably live in. It was a big, ancient tree. "It's magnificent," he remarked. Ignoring the way her daughter stared up at the large tree, Holo said, "Shall we eat here?" The shadows of the forest trees told them that the sun was well past its zenith. They needed to get started, otherwise it would be sunset by the time they arrived home. Lawrence and Col put down their things, when Myuri suddenly whirled around. "What?! But we haven't found the demon yet!" "The village children told you this, didn't they? You sure they weren't just teasing you?" Lawrence asked, and Myuri puffed out her cheeks. "Okay, okay," he sighed. "Once we're done eating, your old man'll help you find this demon." "Aww..." She wanted to resume her adventure right away, and she pouted, sulking. Even though she was just old enough for them to start thinking about marrying her off, she still acted like a child; this both relieved and vexed Lawrence at the same time. Though he was delighted to watch his daughter grow up, he had recently been beset by fits of loneliness at the prospect of letting her go. He took her hand and said to her, "Let's eat first." Myuri was just about to do as she was told, reluctantly, when her head whipped around in another direction. ***

She was a young wolf who had found prey. The way she looked when this happened was breathtakingly awe-inspiring and beautiful. Myuri, full of a youthful light that Holo simply did not possess, suddenly dashed off and rounded the large tree. "Myuri!" Panicked, Lawrence rushed after her, rounding the tree's roots, and found his daughter standing there. And there he saw that the silver fur on her tail—a color she got from him—was standing on end in a way he had never seen before. *** "What?" Myuri stood stock-still, and Col's footsteps followed as he rushed over to see what was happening. In that moment, there came a piercing scream, one that made it seem as though the giant tree had burst. "Eeeeeeee!" Myuri screamed so loud that it seemed like all the hair on her tail might fall off, whirled around on her heel, and then ran. Whatever she had seen was enough to give her a good scare. But this was Lawrence's most beloved daughter. Though she'd grown standoffish after coming of age, Lawrence knew he should still comfort her in her fear; he spread his arms wide to accept her, but she ran straight past him. "Brotheeer!" "Wh-what's going on?!" "Brother, Brother! It's the demon! The demon's here!" Lawrence could hear Myuri crying in Col's arms behind him. Col was holding her tightly, trying to soothe her out of her fear. Though as beautiful a bond between brother and sister it was, Lawrence wasn't sure what to do with his spread arms. He supposed he wasn't the one she went to for help anymore. As he stood there, disappointed, he heard the approaching sound of crunching leaves. It was Holo, peering up at him with a mean smile. "You fool." She grinned, grabbed Lawrence's awkwardly outstretched arms, and pulled him closer. The shrewd wisewolf walked off, pulling Lawrence by the arm as she did so. She took him to where Myuri had been standing and Lawrence found himself freezing in place. A demon was trying to crawl out from the ground. "Oh, whoa—" It also gave him a good fright, and he almost landed on his behind. It looked as though the pale hand of a corpse was crawling out of the ground; its nails were long and sinister, and its eerie fingers were pointed. "Wh-what is—?" He did not honestly think that a demon was coming out from the mountain. As he stood with his breath held, Holo let go of him, crouched down besides the hand, and reached out to touch the demon's fingers. And after a firm poke, its finger snapped. "You fool. 'Tis a mushroom." "What?!" Disregarding Lawrence's shock, Holo burst out in laughter, her shoulders shaking as she did so. "Heh-heh-heh... Were you petrified by a mushroom?" she cackled, waving her hand as she stood. "But once, long ago, I thought someone had been buried alive when I spotted one in the woods and tried to dig them out." "Y-you did?" "It looked just like the hand of a corpse, you know. I have a feeling 'tis called by a similar name." One of the fingers had broken off when Holo poked it, but that did not make it seem any less like the pale hand of a demon. "But I suppose 'tis rather rare for a corpse's hand to look this clean." It sounded as though she was trying to cheer him up when a thought suddenly occurred to Lawrence. "You knew it was a mushroom all along?" "Perhaps I did, and perhaps not." She shrugged, turning around to grab Lawrence's hand and drag him away. "Come now, 'tis time to eat. No one has come up this way yet, so the largest mushrooms are all ours for the harvesting. We must also gather some for Hanna once we are finished eating. I am quite looking forward to having some pickled, salted, and dried." Lawrence found himself both exasperated and smiling in response to Holo's upbeat musings. Or perhaps he was pleasantly surprised to know that there were all sorts of mysteries left in the world; he had not come to know everything about the world, after all. "But..."

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

She was a young wolf who had found prey. The way she looked when this happened was breathtakingly awe-inspiring and beautiful. Myuri, full of a youthful light that Holo simply did not possess, suddenly dashed off and rounded the large tree. "Myuri!" Panicked, Lawrence rushed after her, rounding the tree's roots, and found his daughter standing there. And there he saw that the silver fur on her tail—a color she got from him—was standing on end in a way he had never seen before. *** "What?" Myuri stood stock-still, and Col's footsteps followed as he rushed over to see what was happening. In that moment, there came a piercing scream, one that made it seem as though the giant tree had burst. "Eeeeeeee!" Myuri screamed so loud that it seemed like all the hair on her tail might fall off, whirled around on her heel, and then ran. Whatever she had seen was enough to give her a good scare. But this was Lawrence's most beloved daughter. Though she'd grown standoffish after coming of age, Lawrence knew he should still comfort her in her fear; he spread his arms wide to accept her, but she ran straight past him. "Brotheeer!" "Wh-what's going on?!" "Brother, Brother! It's the demon! The demon's here!" Lawrence could hear Myuri crying in Col's arms behind him. Col was holding her tightly, trying to soothe her out of her fear. Though as beautiful a bond between brother and sister it was, Lawrence wasn't sure what to do with his spread arms. He supposed he wasn't the one she went to for help anymore. As he stood there, disappointed, he heard the approaching sound of crunching leaves. It was Holo, peering up at him with a mean smile. "You fool." She grinned, grabbed Lawrence's awkwardly outstretched arms, and pulled him closer. The shrewd wisewolf walked off, pulling Lawrence by the arm as she did so. She took him to where Myuri had been standing and Lawrence found himself freezing in place. A demon was trying to crawl out from the ground. "Oh, whoa—" It also gave him a good fright, and he almost landed on his behind. It looked as though the pale hand of a corpse was crawling out of the ground; its nails were long and sinister, and its eerie fingers were pointed. "Wh-what is—?" He did not honestly think that a demon was coming out from the mountain. As he stood with his breath held, Holo let go of him, crouched down besides the hand, and reached out to touch the demon's fingers. And after a firm poke, its finger snapped. "You fool. 'Tis a mushroom." "What?!" Disregarding Lawrence's shock, Holo burst out in laughter, her shoulders shaking as she did so. "Heh-heh-heh... Were you petrified by a mushroom?" she cackled, waving her hand as she stood. "But once, long ago, I thought someone had been buried alive when I spotted one in the woods and tried to dig them out." "Y-you did?" "It looked just like the hand of a corpse, you know. I have a feeling 'tis called by a similar name." One of the fingers had broken off when Holo poked it, but that did not make it seem any less like the pale hand of a demon. "But I suppose 'tis rather rare for a corpse's hand to look this clean." It sounded as though she was trying to cheer him up when a thought suddenly occurred to Lawrence. "You knew it was a mushroom all along?" "Perhaps I did, and perhaps not." She shrugged, turning around to grab Lawrence's hand and drag him away. "Come now, 'tis time to eat. No one has come up this way yet, so the largest mushrooms are all ours for the harvesting. We must also gather some for Hanna once we are finished eating. I am quite looking forward to having some pickled, salted, and dried." Lawrence found himself both exasperated and smiling in response to Holo's upbeat musings. Or perhaps he was pleasantly surprised to know that there were all sorts of mysteries left in the world; he had not come to know everything about the world, after all. "But..."

As he stood there, an uneasy impatience nagging at him, Holo tugged on his sleeve. "Is something the matter?" If he openly expressed his jealousy over Myuri, Holo would surely taunt him for being a fool again. He had dignity to maintain, both as a father and a husband. "Nothing, actually." "Mm." She smiled at him, her all-knowing wisewolf smile, but she did not poke him any further. They then lit the fire, boiled plenty of mushrooms in their pot, then found plenty more to take home. It was summer in Nyohhira. It was a good season, where the cool breeze offered relief from the strong rays of the sun. *** One day, a saint sent by God built a hermitage on a stretch of land that was once home to a scattered farming village. Starved of God's love, many came to visit the hermitage, which became a place for locals to trade, which in turn attracted merchants. Before any realized it, a village had sprung up around the hermitage, and in time, it grew into a town. This was the basic premise of Salonia's creation myth, but a traveling merchant acquaintance told her that the likeliest story was that a charismatic individual who was not quite who they claimed to be came to live in the area, jumped on the bandwagon to develop the area, and made it look like a town, at least superficially. When priestess Elsa first heard that, she thought, How typical, as she scanned Salonia's busy streets with honey-colored eyes. Elsa originally lived in a village very far from Salonia, but she left her family behind to visit various churches around the world. These churches were no longer keeping up with the ways of the world and were struggling to adapt to the times, which made people with sharp executive abilities like her a necessity. She had eventually found herself here, happily moving from place to place as the Church demanded; she was, of course, a very pious woman. But hearing the truth behind Salonia's creation myth was chilling because it served as a reminder that there were very few things in this world that were genuine. And so, she was not surprised when she saw that Salonia's church had been left in the care of a bishop who was vaguely untrustworthy. And when money trouble once again reared its ugly head, all she could do was give a little sigh. "Someone seems irritated, no?" Salonia was currently gripped by excitement for the festival that would be the high point of their grand market, yet Elsa sat under the eaves of an out-of-the-way tavern nestled in a quiet side street; she looked up when she heard the familiar voice speak to her. "Fancy seeing you here." The young girl with flaxen hair did not bother to reply to Elsa's statement, nor did she bother to ask permission to sit with Elsa before taking a seat opposite her and calling over the tavernkeeper in a practiced manner. The mismatch of her sage-like demeanor and her youthful appearance stemmed from the fact that she was currently inhabiting a temporary form. She was, in fact, a centuries-old wolf spirit, and whenever Elsa looked at her, it always struck her how much the way she thought about wolves had changed ever since they met. She didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but she was certain that this wolf avatar would be furious with her if she shared these thoughts with her. "'Tis quite a shock to find you in such a desolate, sad place," Holo said, accepting the wine and the meat-and-vegetable stew the tavernkeeper brought her. "Because this stew is delicious. And it is quiet here." "Ah, yes. You are no pompous official of the Church. You are a village girl." Elsa felt rather embarrassed still being called a "girl" after having three children of her own, but perhaps their meeting decades ago felt like a recent development to a spirit who had lived for centuries. She brought her ale up to her lips as the thought crossed her mind. "And you are well off enough to be drinking at lunch."

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

As he stood there, an uneasy impatience nagging at him, Holo tugged on his sleeve. "Is something the matter?" If he openly expressed his jealousy over Myuri, Holo would surely taunt him for being a fool again. He had dignity to maintain, both as a father and a husband. "Nothing, actually." "Mm." She smiled at him, her all-knowing wisewolf smile, but she did not poke him any further. They then lit the fire, boiled plenty of mushrooms in their pot, then found plenty more to take home. It was summer in Nyohhira. It was a good season, where the cool breeze offered relief from the strong rays of the sun. *** One day, a saint sent by God built a hermitage on a stretch of land that was once home to a scattered farming village. Starved of God's love, many came to visit the hermitage, which became a place for locals to trade, which in turn attracted merchants. Before any realized it, a village had sprung up around the hermitage, and in time, it grew into a town. This was the basic premise of Salonia's creation myth, but a traveling merchant acquaintance told her that the likeliest story was that a charismatic individual who was not quite who they claimed to be came to live in the area, jumped on the bandwagon to develop the area, and made it look like a town, at least superficially. When priestess Elsa first heard that, she thought, How typical, as she scanned Salonia's busy streets with honey-colored eyes. Elsa originally lived in a village very far from Salonia, but she left her family behind to visit various churches around the world. These churches were no longer keeping up with the ways of the world and were struggling to adapt to the times, which made people with sharp executive abilities like her a necessity. She had eventually found herself here, happily moving from place to place as the Church demanded; she was, of course, a very pious woman. But hearing the truth behind Salonia's creation myth was chilling because it served as a reminder that there were very few things in this world that were genuine. And so, she was not surprised when she saw that Salonia's church had been left in the care of a bishop who was vaguely untrustworthy. And when money trouble once again reared its ugly head, all she could do was give a little sigh. "Someone seems irritated, no?" Salonia was currently gripped by excitement for the festival that would be the high point of their grand market, yet Elsa sat under the eaves of an out-of-the-way tavern nestled in a quiet side street; she looked up when she heard the familiar voice speak to her. "Fancy seeing you here." The young girl with flaxen hair did not bother to reply to Elsa's statement, nor did she bother to ask permission to sit with Elsa before taking a seat opposite her and calling over the tavernkeeper in a practiced manner. The mismatch of her sage-like demeanor and her youthful appearance stemmed from the fact that she was currently inhabiting a temporary form. She was, in fact, a centuries-old wolf spirit, and whenever Elsa looked at her, it always struck her how much the way she thought about wolves had changed ever since they met. She didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but she was certain that this wolf avatar would be furious with her if she shared these thoughts with her. "'Tis quite a shock to find you in such a desolate, sad place," Holo said, accepting the wine and the meat-and-vegetable stew the tavernkeeper brought her. "Because this stew is delicious. And it is quiet here." "Ah, yes. You are no pompous official of the Church. You are a village girl." Elsa felt rather embarrassed still being called a "girl" after having three children of her own, but perhaps their meeting decades ago felt like a recent development to a spirit who had lived for centuries. She brought her ale up to her lips as the thought crossed her mind. "And you are well off enough to be drinking at lunch."

This wolf spirit, who once ruled over a village's wheat harvest, through some sort of divine grace came to marry an airy merchant. Having had a small hand in bringing them together, Elsa was happy to see that they always got along so well, but they were unfortunately so close that it was almost unpleasant sometimes. Or perhaps they were so close that they ended up fighting again—and just as that possibility occurred to Elsa, Holo let her shoulders fall the way a much older woman might have, and responded as she sipped her wine. "He's quite popular here. He's always gone somewhere once the sun rises." Her wolf ears, hidden beneath her headkerchief, twitched in displeasure. This wolf was surprisingly shy and a loner to boot; she must have decided she would much rather sit with someone she found annoying because of all the lectures instead of wandering the town alone. "He has indeed solved a few big problems thus far, hasn't he?" First there was the enormous, complicated matter of debt that had weighed upon the people of Salonia. Merchants who had come to the market for trade had been unable to repay their borrowed money, yet he had been able to erase almost all of that debt without spending a single coin—it was hardly distinguishable from magic at that point. That was more than enough to go down in the town's history, yet he had even resolved a problem involving the man who had established a fish pond that had once saved Salonia from starvation. It was under Lawrence's direction that they dug a hole in the town plaza to make a little pond reminiscent of the sea that served as the stage for a little play. They poured hot water into the freshly dug pond and filled it with a hot spring mix brought from Nyohhira, turning it into a place where the adults could soak their feet and the children could play to their hearts' content; it added a touch of color to the market's excitement. Of course, Holo had always stood by Lawrence's side as he solved these problems. The people knew her as the great merchant Kraft Lawrence's young wife, who kept her husband on a short leash, projected a powerful presence, and could hold her liquor like no other; Elsa was certain that Holo was plenty popular in her own right. "I would think you have had plenty of invitations to go drinking yourself, no?" It was not long ago that Holo had been tasked with choosing the drinks that would be served at the festival that marked the end of the seasonal festival, which ended with her dead-drunk in the middle of the day. She would certainly have no trouble finding others to drink with now. And considering how her love of alcohol was second to none, Elsa thought she would have little reason to decline an invitation, yet the woman sitting across from her turned away, an unmistakable weariness in her expression. "'Twas only fun in the beginning." "Too much attention, I take it?" As self-important as she seemed, Holo preferred to be alone. Yet she hated being put on a pedestal. The pagan gods were all similarly difficult to understand, but perhaps that was what made them who they were. Elsa brought her cup of lukewarm ale to her lips to find it was mostly empty. She had finished her lunch; perhaps it was time to return to the church. As that thought crossed her mind, she noticed how Holo was glumly sipping at her wine, having only bitten into her chicken and made no progress on her stew at all. When she saw how anxiously the wolf sat hunched over on her spot, Elsa knew she could not leave her be. She sighed. She was astonished at how little had changed with this wisewolf since they first met, yet that also brought her considerable relief. "More wine, please!" Elsa ordered, raising up her empty mug toward the inside of the building, and Holo's eyes widened when she did so. "I know if you simply had nothing to do, you would be back at your room at the inn sleeping. You want to speak with me, don't you?"

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

This wolf spirit, who once ruled over a village's wheat harvest, through some sort of divine grace came to marry an airy merchant. Having had a small hand in bringing them together, Elsa was happy to see that they always got along so well, but they were unfortunately so close that it was almost unpleasant sometimes. Or perhaps they were so close that they ended up fighting again—and just as that possibility occurred to Elsa, Holo let her shoulders fall the way a much older woman might have, and responded as she sipped her wine. "He's quite popular here. He's always gone somewhere once the sun rises." Her wolf ears, hidden beneath her headkerchief, twitched in displeasure. This wolf was surprisingly shy and a loner to boot; she must have decided she would much rather sit with someone she found annoying because of all the lectures instead of wandering the town alone. "He has indeed solved a few big problems thus far, hasn't he?" First there was the enormous, complicated matter of debt that had weighed upon the people of Salonia. Merchants who had come to the market for trade had been unable to repay their borrowed money, yet he had been able to erase almost all of that debt without spending a single coin—it was hardly distinguishable from magic at that point. That was more than enough to go down in the town's history, yet he had even resolved a problem involving the man who had established a fish pond that had once saved Salonia from starvation. It was under Lawrence's direction that they dug a hole in the town plaza to make a little pond reminiscent of the sea that served as the stage for a little play. They poured hot water into the freshly dug pond and filled it with a hot spring mix brought from Nyohhira, turning it into a place where the adults could soak their feet and the children could play to their hearts' content; it added a touch of color to the market's excitement. Of course, Holo had always stood by Lawrence's side as he solved these problems. The people knew her as the great merchant Kraft Lawrence's young wife, who kept her husband on a short leash, projected a powerful presence, and could hold her liquor like no other; Elsa was certain that Holo was plenty popular in her own right. "I would think you have had plenty of invitations to go drinking yourself, no?" It was not long ago that Holo had been tasked with choosing the drinks that would be served at the festival that marked the end of the seasonal festival, which ended with her dead-drunk in the middle of the day. She would certainly have no trouble finding others to drink with now. And considering how her love of alcohol was second to none, Elsa thought she would have little reason to decline an invitation, yet the woman sitting across from her turned away, an unmistakable weariness in her expression. "'Twas only fun in the beginning." "Too much attention, I take it?" As self-important as she seemed, Holo preferred to be alone. Yet she hated being put on a pedestal. The pagan gods were all similarly difficult to understand, but perhaps that was what made them who they were. Elsa brought her cup of lukewarm ale to her lips to find it was mostly empty. She had finished her lunch; perhaps it was time to return to the church. As that thought crossed her mind, she noticed how Holo was glumly sipping at her wine, having only bitten into her chicken and made no progress on her stew at all. When she saw how anxiously the wolf sat hunched over on her spot, Elsa knew she could not leave her be. She sighed. She was astonished at how little had changed with this wisewolf since they first met, yet that also brought her considerable relief. "More wine, please!" Elsa ordered, raising up her empty mug toward the inside of the building, and Holo's eyes widened when she did so. "I know if you simply had nothing to do, you would be back at your room at the inn sleeping. You want to speak with me, don't you?"

Holo peered up at Elsa, as though she had been waiting for her to say something like that. "...Will you not laugh at me?" Though the role was temporary, Elsa was still a priestess. "I cannot call myself a servant of God if I laugh at the plight of others." Holo still looked away briefly, downed the rest of her wine in a single gulp, and ordered herself another, not wanting to fall behind. Many villagers would have knelt before her in ages past, honored with words of prophecy or whatever else they would like to hear; but now, as she sat hunched over her cup of wine, Holo looked like a village elder who had grown so old she seemed like a child again. "That fool does not understand a single thing about me." Elsa absently thought about how this was essentially her catchphrase, yet she urged Holo to continue out of slight interest. "What do you mean?" "Do you know that he has been summoned to take part in some complicated discussions?" "Oh?" Lawrence was presently the most famous individual in Salonia, and many likely thought that any problem in his care would be solved immediately. She had heard that he was being made to intervene in anything and everything from business dealings to marital disputes; she wondered which one it could be this time. "I have heard it is related to your job." "Ah-ha." Elsa understood immediately. "Is this about the town tariffs?" "I am not quite sure. But I hear tell of merchants just like him butting heads with one another." "I've heard the same." Holo's brow furrowed, perhaps dissatisfied with Elsa's casual response. But Elsa, too, gave a sigh, and Holo stared blankly at her. "That very same problem is why I am not looking forward to returning to the church. It's quite a stupid situation." That was why she had gone out of her way to have lunch here; without warning, Elsa heard the rhythmic rustling of fur against fabric. "Oh ho?" Holo had seemed so lifeless not moments earlier, but her energy came back the moment she saw how troubled Elsa looked. Her fluffy tail was wagging with delight beneath her clothes. Elsa could hardly believe the woman, but she did not hate how open and frank she was. "Discussions about the tariffs for all the goods that flow into town are going on at the assembly hall right now. I suppose it would be easier for you to understand if I told you this meeting would determine whether that wine of yours would be a cheap or expensive drink." Holo looked down at the mug in her hands, then gulped down the wine along with the information. "There are wine merchants who wish to import the wine for cheap, and there are the ale merchants who wish to subject wine to higher tariffs since that is their competition." "Mm." "Though who exactly manages these clashes of interest changes from town to town. Here, it is the church's responsibility." Elsa supposed that part of the reason for this was because a saint had a hand in the town's founding myth, but in truth, the church was heavily involved in the process because they earned great profits from those tariffs. "Ah, yes, the one in charge of the church here is a fishy sort. He is quite fun to drink with, but I suppose you're not too fond of him." "He's not a bad person, but unfortunately, he's always been a bit of a smooth talker..." The entity that originally called on Elsa to help was the church in the Vallan Bishopric. There she had reunited with Lawrence and Holo, gotten their help, and managed to sell off a lot of the church's assets for a high price. The bishop in Salonia had caught wind of this and managed to shove all of Salonia's problems onto Elsa. The work itself was not a problem for her, but she was not exactly happy with the situation. This feeling was exacerbated by the enormous profits the Salonia church claimed for itself despite ostensibly being an establishment meant to preach and practice asceticism and temperance.

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

Holo peered up at Elsa, as though she had been waiting for her to say something like that. "...Will you not laugh at me?" Though the role was temporary, Elsa was still a priestess. "I cannot call myself a servant of God if I laugh at the plight of others." Holo still looked away briefly, downed the rest of her wine in a single gulp, and ordered herself another, not wanting to fall behind. Many villagers would have knelt before her in ages past, honored with words of prophecy or whatever else they would like to hear; but now, as she sat hunched over her cup of wine, Holo looked like a village elder who had grown so old she seemed like a child again. "That fool does not understand a single thing about me." Elsa absently thought about how this was essentially her catchphrase, yet she urged Holo to continue out of slight interest. "What do you mean?" "Do you know that he has been summoned to take part in some complicated discussions?" "Oh?" Lawrence was presently the most famous individual in Salonia, and many likely thought that any problem in his care would be solved immediately. She had heard that he was being made to intervene in anything and everything from business dealings to marital disputes; she wondered which one it could be this time. "I have heard it is related to your job." "Ah-ha." Elsa understood immediately. "Is this about the town tariffs?" "I am not quite sure. But I hear tell of merchants just like him butting heads with one another." "I've heard the same." Holo's brow furrowed, perhaps dissatisfied with Elsa's casual response. But Elsa, too, gave a sigh, and Holo stared blankly at her. "That very same problem is why I am not looking forward to returning to the church. It's quite a stupid situation." That was why she had gone out of her way to have lunch here; without warning, Elsa heard the rhythmic rustling of fur against fabric. "Oh ho?" Holo had seemed so lifeless not moments earlier, but her energy came back the moment she saw how troubled Elsa looked. Her fluffy tail was wagging with delight beneath her clothes. Elsa could hardly believe the woman, but she did not hate how open and frank she was. "Discussions about the tariffs for all the goods that flow into town are going on at the assembly hall right now. I suppose it would be easier for you to understand if I told you this meeting would determine whether that wine of yours would be a cheap or expensive drink." Holo looked down at the mug in her hands, then gulped down the wine along with the information. "There are wine merchants who wish to import the wine for cheap, and there are the ale merchants who wish to subject wine to higher tariffs since that is their competition." "Mm." "Though who exactly manages these clashes of interest changes from town to town. Here, it is the church's responsibility." Elsa supposed that part of the reason for this was because a saint had a hand in the town's founding myth, but in truth, the church was heavily involved in the process because they earned great profits from those tariffs. "Ah, yes, the one in charge of the church here is a fishy sort. He is quite fun to drink with, but I suppose you're not too fond of him." "He's not a bad person, but unfortunately, he's always been a bit of a smooth talker..." The entity that originally called on Elsa to help was the church in the Vallan Bishopric. There she had reunited with Lawrence and Holo, gotten their help, and managed to sell off a lot of the church's assets for a high price. The bishop in Salonia had caught wind of this and managed to shove all of Salonia's problems onto Elsa. The work itself was not a problem for her, but she was not exactly happy with the situation. This feeling was exacerbated by the enormous profits the Salonia church claimed for itself despite ostensibly being an establishment meant to preach and practice asceticism and temperance.

"Ahem. Anyway, all interests regarding money will be laid bare at this meeting, and everyone will be desperate to speak their piece. And I believe that Mister Lawrence has been saddled with that responsibility, and his opinion carries great weight..." Perhaps the reason Holo looked so upset was because she was sad that he was not around to entertain her. Elsa thought that if that were truly the case, then she would simply say so, but she knew well that the pair tended not to be very honest with their feelings with each other and needlessly suffered because of it at times. They were two peas in a pod, yes, but she thought it would do them good if they could at least put themselves in each other's shoes. "I understand he has an important role to play in this town, yes. And he has done more than enough to atone for the sin of leaving me by my lonesome," Holo said proudly, and Elsa decided to give nothing more than a vague hum in response. The wisewolf continued, saying, "But the problem is that he dives headfirst into these problems in the first place." "Is that so? It is true that this is causing the townsfolk great distress, and it must be resolved at some point. As an outsider, Mister Lawrence is perfectly suited to settle the town's disagreements. I believe he is fulfilling his role rather well, and you must be proud of his accomplishments, are you not?" "Yes, 'tis true...," Holo muttered. Elsa sighed and said, "I believe Mister Lawrence is doing all this to show you just how capable he actually is." Ever since reuniting at the church in the Vallan Bishopric, just from looking Elsa could tell that Holo was practically all that Lawrence ever thought about, and she could easily see from everything he did that he was in high spirits about his first journey in ten years. And though she thought that this selfish maiden quite liked that part about him, the wolf herself gave a heavy sigh. "...This is the third time in a row now. I feel a burp coming on." Holo reminded Elsa of an old neighborhood stray who grew languid after receiving too much attention from the children. Elsa could tell that Holo was disappointed, but she felt as though the answer to this problem was plain as day. "Why not tell him this? You are not a newlywed wife," she told her outright, and Holo simply hunched over and sipped her wine. "'Twould be easy if I could do such a thing. In a way...I am the one who encouraged the fool in the first place..." Though in her true form she was a wolf big enough to decimate entire armies, she would tuck her tail between her legs in fear of a single ex-merchant, and Elsa found that very curious. As that thought crossed Elsa's mind, interest bubbled up inside her—what sort of trap had this wolf gotten herself ensnared in this time? "How so?" Though she sat up straighter, Holo tensed her shoulders and neck, gazing into empty space, and spoke again with the umpteenth sigh, "You had a hand in bringing him and I together." Elsa's eyes widened despite herself; she was not so much confused about why Holo suddenly brought this up, but more in shock from Holo suddenly thanking her. "Do not make that face... 'Twas by your encouragement that we joined hands. You know this." When Elsa rode in the same carriage as Holo, the main reason Holo had seemed so uncomfortable was because she was aware of just how much of a debt she owed the church woman. "Either way, we are together now. In truth, I am happy. Painfully so." "I...suppose you are, yes. And to be honest, Mister Lawrence spoils you too much." The centuries-old wolf replied, with good grace, "He does so because he wants to." "Even so..." Though it had only been a bit more than a decade since they started a family together, they were naturally much closer now than they were when they first met. Elsa took a sip of her own wine, washing down the sweet sentimentality. "But one could say that me taking his hand was the same as pulling him away from the path he wished to pursue, no?"

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

"Ahem. Anyway, all interests regarding money will be laid bare at this meeting, and everyone will be desperate to speak their piece. And I believe that Mister Lawrence has been saddled with that responsibility, and his opinion carries great weight..." Perhaps the reason Holo looked so upset was because she was sad that he was not around to entertain her. Elsa thought that if that were truly the case, then she would simply say so, but she knew well that the pair tended not to be very honest with their feelings with each other and needlessly suffered because of it at times. They were two peas in a pod, yes, but she thought it would do them good if they could at least put themselves in each other's shoes. "I understand he has an important role to play in this town, yes. And he has done more than enough to atone for the sin of leaving me by my lonesome," Holo said proudly, and Elsa decided to give nothing more than a vague hum in response. The wisewolf continued, saying, "But the problem is that he dives headfirst into these problems in the first place." "Is that so? It is true that this is causing the townsfolk great distress, and it must be resolved at some point. As an outsider, Mister Lawrence is perfectly suited to settle the town's disagreements. I believe he is fulfilling his role rather well, and you must be proud of his accomplishments, are you not?" "Yes, 'tis true...," Holo muttered. Elsa sighed and said, "I believe Mister Lawrence is doing all this to show you just how capable he actually is." Ever since reuniting at the church in the Vallan Bishopric, just from looking Elsa could tell that Holo was practically all that Lawrence ever thought about, and she could easily see from everything he did that he was in high spirits about his first journey in ten years. And though she thought that this selfish maiden quite liked that part about him, the wolf herself gave a heavy sigh. "...This is the third time in a row now. I feel a burp coming on." Holo reminded Elsa of an old neighborhood stray who grew languid after receiving too much attention from the children. Elsa could tell that Holo was disappointed, but she felt as though the answer to this problem was plain as day. "Why not tell him this? You are not a newlywed wife," she told her outright, and Holo simply hunched over and sipped her wine. "'Twould be easy if I could do such a thing. In a way...I am the one who encouraged the fool in the first place..." Though in her true form she was a wolf big enough to decimate entire armies, she would tuck her tail between her legs in fear of a single ex-merchant, and Elsa found that very curious. As that thought crossed Elsa's mind, interest bubbled up inside her—what sort of trap had this wolf gotten herself ensnared in this time? "How so?" Though she sat up straighter, Holo tensed her shoulders and neck, gazing into empty space, and spoke again with the umpteenth sigh, "You had a hand in bringing him and I together." Elsa's eyes widened despite herself; she was not so much confused about why Holo suddenly brought this up, but more in shock from Holo suddenly thanking her. "Do not make that face... 'Twas by your encouragement that we joined hands. You know this." When Elsa rode in the same carriage as Holo, the main reason Holo had seemed so uncomfortable was because she was aware of just how much of a debt she owed the church woman. "Either way, we are together now. In truth, I am happy. Painfully so." "I...suppose you are, yes. And to be honest, Mister Lawrence spoils you too much." The centuries-old wolf replied, with good grace, "He does so because he wants to." "Even so..." Though it had only been a bit more than a decade since they started a family together, they were naturally much closer now than they were when they first met. Elsa took a sip of her own wine, washing down the sweet sentimentality. "But one could say that me taking his hand was the same as pulling him away from the path he wished to pursue, no?"

If anything, Elsa thought it would be more apt to say that it was not a wise idea to leave Lawrence to his own devices, considering how shaky the man could be sometimes, but it sounded as though Holo had her own thoughts on the matter. "Are you saying that you made a mistake?" "...He had the chance to follow a path that would have led him to becoming the world's greatest merchant, one who could rule the world. But I said to him that I'd had enough of such nonsense and steered him away from it." That was not a sphere of livelihood that overlapped much with Elsa's own, so she was only vaguely aware of such things, but she knew that Lawrence had saved one of the biggest, most influential companies in the northlands and had been invited to join them. Had he accepted, it was very likely his wit and Holo's wisdom together could have made him an unimaginably wealthy man in some city or another. That said, Elsa had a hard time picturing Lawrence as a big name, lording over dozens and dozens of people. She thought that the size of the bathhouse in Nyohhira was perfect for him, but perhaps that was not the case for Holo. As Elsa dropped her shoulders—Love is truly blind, she thought—Holo spoke up. "And...I found myself expressing this to him." *** Elsa's own thoughts about how foolish that was must have been plain on her face. With a pained expression, Holo growled, baring her fangs. Elsa sighed and cleared her throat at the same time, then looked straight at Holo and said, "Mister Lawrence prefers his life with you over everything else, and so he has internalized your wishes. I doubt he regrets his choice." "I know!" Nearby birds flew away, shocked by Holo's sharp yell. She repeated, annoyed, "I know," and dropped her head into her hands. "I had been too relaxed once we left for our first journey in years... And I had so much time to think in the cart, at nights in the inns... And most importantly..." She stared down at the table. "When I see him lit by the glow of unfamiliar hearths, I see just how much he has aged in the time we have spent together. I never notice that in the familiar confines of the bathhouse." Holo still looked like a young girl, much the same as she did when Elsa first met her, and she would likely remain the same when Elsa was old enough to need a cane. In her eyes, ten, twenty years was nothing more than a short temporal detour. But that was not the case for Lawrence. As they traveled around in the same fashion as they had when they first met, Holo couldn't help but notice the undeniable signs of age in his impulses, in the fires that illuminated his profile. Elsa knew that Holo walked around with pen and paper, writing down things that happened in her daily life. It was an act meant to commit certain moments to memory that would be otherwise washed away by the unrelenting torrent of time. Elsa could no longer laugh or find exasperation when it came to Holo; she reached out across the table and placed her hand over the wolf's own small hand. "I realize that he has given me something so great." Holo stared at the hand on hers before pulling it away with a self-deprecating smile. "We visited your company, the Debau Company? When we sold your mountain. How dizzyingly large it was. It was a bustling, dazzling place, so full of life. When I think about how I stole him away from such a life...I am overcome with fear." Elsa, too, was from a small village called Tereo, so she could easily imagine the sort of shock that Holo experienced. She had been shocked by her own drive to make a name for herself in the world, one she had never felt before she first laid eyes on a massive cathedral in a large city. Of course, that was now but a vestige of a dream that perhaps could have come true once; she knew that much of the appeal would be lost if she were to actually achieve it, and there was no guarantee that she would have the same wonderful things in life if she had decided to walk a different path.

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

If anything, Elsa thought it would be more apt to say that it was not a wise idea to leave Lawrence to his own devices, considering how shaky the man could be sometimes, but it sounded as though Holo had her own thoughts on the matter. "Are you saying that you made a mistake?" "...He had the chance to follow a path that would have led him to becoming the world's greatest merchant, one who could rule the world. But I said to him that I'd had enough of such nonsense and steered him away from it." That was not a sphere of livelihood that overlapped much with Elsa's own, so she was only vaguely aware of such things, but she knew that Lawrence had saved one of the biggest, most influential companies in the northlands and had been invited to join them. Had he accepted, it was very likely his wit and Holo's wisdom together could have made him an unimaginably wealthy man in some city or another. That said, Elsa had a hard time picturing Lawrence as a big name, lording over dozens and dozens of people. She thought that the size of the bathhouse in Nyohhira was perfect for him, but perhaps that was not the case for Holo. As Elsa dropped her shoulders—Love is truly blind, she thought—Holo spoke up. "And...I found myself expressing this to him." *** Elsa's own thoughts about how foolish that was must have been plain on her face. With a pained expression, Holo growled, baring her fangs. Elsa sighed and cleared her throat at the same time, then looked straight at Holo and said, "Mister Lawrence prefers his life with you over everything else, and so he has internalized your wishes. I doubt he regrets his choice." "I know!" Nearby birds flew away, shocked by Holo's sharp yell. She repeated, annoyed, "I know," and dropped her head into her hands. "I had been too relaxed once we left for our first journey in years... And I had so much time to think in the cart, at nights in the inns... And most importantly..." She stared down at the table. "When I see him lit by the glow of unfamiliar hearths, I see just how much he has aged in the time we have spent together. I never notice that in the familiar confines of the bathhouse." Holo still looked like a young girl, much the same as she did when Elsa first met her, and she would likely remain the same when Elsa was old enough to need a cane. In her eyes, ten, twenty years was nothing more than a short temporal detour. But that was not the case for Lawrence. As they traveled around in the same fashion as they had when they first met, Holo couldn't help but notice the undeniable signs of age in his impulses, in the fires that illuminated his profile. Elsa knew that Holo walked around with pen and paper, writing down things that happened in her daily life. It was an act meant to commit certain moments to memory that would be otherwise washed away by the unrelenting torrent of time. Elsa could no longer laugh or find exasperation when it came to Holo; she reached out across the table and placed her hand over the wolf's own small hand. "I realize that he has given me something so great." Holo stared at the hand on hers before pulling it away with a self-deprecating smile. "We visited your company, the Debau Company? When we sold your mountain. How dizzyingly large it was. It was a bustling, dazzling place, so full of life. When I think about how I stole him away from such a life...I am overcome with fear." Elsa, too, was from a small village called Tereo, so she could easily imagine the sort of shock that Holo experienced. She had been shocked by her own drive to make a name for herself in the world, one she had never felt before she first laid eyes on a massive cathedral in a large city. Of course, that was now but a vestige of a dream that perhaps could have come true once; she knew that much of the appeal would be lost if she were to actually achieve it, and there was no guarantee that she would have the same wonderful things in life if she had decided to walk a different path.

Holo would live for a very, very long time, so perhaps at some point she would have accepted these facts with little more than a sense of defeat, but when it came to her most beloved companion, she simply could not keep a level head. That said, Elsa doubted Lawrence ever regretted for a moment the choices that led him to his current life, and she knew that saying anything she was not wholly confident in would be a disservice to him. He was so loved, and so she felt it was his responsibility to believe wholly and with conviction that his partner was happy, too. As a member of the clergy, Elsa would often serve as mediator for when married couples had disputes. She had seen similar situations play out thousands of times before. A lecture almost bubbled out from her throat—You will live tens of times longer than any human, so why do you find yourself caught up by the most basic of entrapments?—but Holo seemed perfectly aware of her own foolishness. Not only that, but there were particulars that only applied to her. Elsa, who acted as intermediary for this odd couple, forcefully dragged Holo's hand back to hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze before letting it go. "I see what's going on." The town believed Holo dragged Lawrence around on a short leash, and at a glance it did seem as though Lawrence was completely at the mercy of Holo's whims, but it was actually Holo who could scarcely bear to be away from Lawrence. Then again, Lawrence was not the fairy-tale prince he seemed to be at all. "I suppose it's like thoughtlessly adding sugar to mead, which is already perfectly sweet enough." When Elsa said that, Holo looked genuinely disappointed. "Precisely. And now, he is approaching me with a large jar of sugar and a big grin on his face. And I thought my slip of the tongue had died with the complicated issue of debts. I so foolishly told him that he could have easily become a great merchant with his magic, considering how easily he had made all that debt disappear." Childish though she was, it was more than enough to dispel Holo's fears, and her joy certainly would have been great. There was a caveat to this, though, Elsa thought. She did not immediately associate Lawrence with being a sheep because of his softheartedness, but because he did not know his limits; because he was at times inconsiderate and thickheaded. "After seeing how well it went, he now wants to settle this tariff matter cleanly and show you how capable he is, is that correct?" Elsa asked. Holo gave a long, deep sigh. "...Yes." Elsa could see how a man might want to continually show off for his beloved wife. As a servant of God, she thought it was a good thing that they were so close, that it was a good wife's job to be impressed by and compliment her husband, but that was simply a matter of logic. She, too, had built a family after finding herself with a man who had a bottomless well of kindness, but was also a bit thick-headed as well. She thought back on her days in Tereo, and easily pictured her husband, Evan, doing the same thing to her over and over again. She might certainly be delighted the first time, and perhaps she might force a smile the second time, but her patience would likely run out by the third. "'Twould be nice if that were all, however." "There's something else?" "That church of yours came up. He has apparently been lured into some scheme by them." When Holo put it that way, Elsa knew right away who was doing the smooth talking. "The bishop, you mean?" "Aye. That bishop has promised him a dubious reward in exchange for his help. And..." Holo brought her wine to her lips, gave an indulgent sip, and looked at Elsa with a dubious expression. "That fool has told me it would not be a bad idea to be nobility." Men would always be children. Elsa pictured Lawrence innocently dreaming and smiling, and it reminded her of Evan when she scolded him for making a ruckus with the children.

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

Holo would live for a very, very long time, so perhaps at some point she would have accepted these facts with little more than a sense of defeat, but when it came to her most beloved companion, she simply could not keep a level head. That said, Elsa doubted Lawrence ever regretted for a moment the choices that led him to his current life, and she knew that saying anything she was not wholly confident in would be a disservice to him. He was so loved, and so she felt it was his responsibility to believe wholly and with conviction that his partner was happy, too. As a member of the clergy, Elsa would often serve as mediator for when married couples had disputes. She had seen similar situations play out thousands of times before. A lecture almost bubbled out from her throat—You will live tens of times longer than any human, so why do you find yourself caught up by the most basic of entrapments?—but Holo seemed perfectly aware of her own foolishness. Not only that, but there were particulars that only applied to her. Elsa, who acted as intermediary for this odd couple, forcefully dragged Holo's hand back to hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze before letting it go. "I see what's going on." The town believed Holo dragged Lawrence around on a short leash, and at a glance it did seem as though Lawrence was completely at the mercy of Holo's whims, but it was actually Holo who could scarcely bear to be away from Lawrence. Then again, Lawrence was not the fairy-tale prince he seemed to be at all. "I suppose it's like thoughtlessly adding sugar to mead, which is already perfectly sweet enough." When Elsa said that, Holo looked genuinely disappointed. "Precisely. And now, he is approaching me with a large jar of sugar and a big grin on his face. And I thought my slip of the tongue had died with the complicated issue of debts. I so foolishly told him that he could have easily become a great merchant with his magic, considering how easily he had made all that debt disappear." Childish though she was, it was more than enough to dispel Holo's fears, and her joy certainly would have been great. There was a caveat to this, though, Elsa thought. She did not immediately associate Lawrence with being a sheep because of his softheartedness, but because he did not know his limits; because he was at times inconsiderate and thickheaded. "After seeing how well it went, he now wants to settle this tariff matter cleanly and show you how capable he is, is that correct?" Elsa asked. Holo gave a long, deep sigh. "...Yes." Elsa could see how a man might want to continually show off for his beloved wife. As a servant of God, she thought it was a good thing that they were so close, that it was a good wife's job to be impressed by and compliment her husband, but that was simply a matter of logic. She, too, had built a family after finding herself with a man who had a bottomless well of kindness, but was also a bit thick-headed as well. She thought back on her days in Tereo, and easily pictured her husband, Evan, doing the same thing to her over and over again. She might certainly be delighted the first time, and perhaps she might force a smile the second time, but her patience would likely run out by the third. "'Twould be nice if that were all, however." "There's something else?" "That church of yours came up. He has apparently been lured into some scheme by them." When Holo put it that way, Elsa knew right away who was doing the smooth talking. "The bishop, you mean?" "Aye. That bishop has promised him a dubious reward in exchange for his help. And..." Holo brought her wine to her lips, gave an indulgent sip, and looked at Elsa with a dubious expression. "That fool has told me it would not be a bad idea to be nobility." Men would always be children. Elsa pictured Lawrence innocently dreaming and smiling, and it reminded her of Evan when she scolded him for making a ruckus with the children.

"Ah..." Elsa sometimes heard similar complaints back in the village. The village women would often sigh, thinking they were done raising their kids, only for the largest person in the house to begin to act like a child himself. No matter how old they got, men still acted with wide-eyed optimism, just like children. Even if that was what brought the couple together in the first place, she understood why the women would be frustrated and want them to act their age. "And is it not strange for a sheep to walk straight for a cliff edge with a smug look on its face?" It was not as though Holo could have opened up about any of this to her town drinking buddies, and she clearly did not have any ill will toward Lawrence himself, so she had been bottling up everything. After a great deal of thought, she must have decided to find this alleyway tavern and pay Elsa a visit under the guise of coincidentally running into each other. Though their personalities and lifestyles were completely different, this was why Elsa could not bring herself to hate Holo, and since they both had similar husbands and households, she could not abandon the wisewolf. It seemed that frivolous bishop had been getting involved, too, so she could not overlook this matter as a fellow member of the clergy either. It would be unacceptable to allow the Church's reputation to fall any more than it already had. "More drinks, please!" Elsa called as she ordered two more cups of wine. What Holo told Elsa was not quite to the point, but she got the general gist when she applied her own knowledge to the situation. First, many merchants were in town for the grand market at the moment, which made for a perfect opportunity to talk about plenty of longstanding issues, when the question of tariffs came up. Wine merchants and ale merchants have always been at odds with one another, and in turn, ale merchants have always been competitors with the bakeries since they vie for the same resource. And the bakeries have traditionally never gotten along with the butchers—listening to one party's objection meant earning another party's ire. In general, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" was logic that was easily upheld here, so parties whose interests did not conflict often teamed up to make sure their grievances were heard, but the local lord, dressed in red, would often unilaterally make decisions when it came to these matters, so they would either leave things up to divine providence and draw straws, or allow influential members of each party to cast anonymous votes. The Salonia church bishop often took charge here, but the church itself had its own interests in many affairs concerning the town, so the participants would not so readily listen to what they had to say, especially if they were the ones getting the short end of the stick in the resulting deal. And then, out of the blue, Lawrence appears in town, a person who has great influence but little to do with any parties involved, so everyone began to promise him rewards in an attempt to flatter and gain his favor. The woodworkers, especially, who had been suffocated by high tariffs, had been particularly aggressive in persuading Lawrence to secure them some tax relief, but the Church profited mightily from those same tariffs, which meant that the bishop was trying to get Lawrence on his side by making absurd promises. What he suggested was purchasing privileges for some of the land surrounding Salonia—essentially making Lawrence nobility. "He worked quite fast."

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

"Ah..." Elsa sometimes heard similar complaints back in the village. The village women would often sigh, thinking they were done raising their kids, only for the largest person in the house to begin to act like a child himself. No matter how old they got, men still acted with wide-eyed optimism, just like children. Even if that was what brought the couple together in the first place, she understood why the women would be frustrated and want them to act their age. "And is it not strange for a sheep to walk straight for a cliff edge with a smug look on its face?" It was not as though Holo could have opened up about any of this to her town drinking buddies, and she clearly did not have any ill will toward Lawrence himself, so she had been bottling up everything. After a great deal of thought, she must have decided to find this alleyway tavern and pay Elsa a visit under the guise of coincidentally running into each other. Though their personalities and lifestyles were completely different, this was why Elsa could not bring herself to hate Holo, and since they both had similar husbands and households, she could not abandon the wisewolf. It seemed that frivolous bishop had been getting involved, too, so she could not overlook this matter as a fellow member of the clergy either. It would be unacceptable to allow the Church's reputation to fall any more than it already had. "More drinks, please!" Elsa called as she ordered two more cups of wine. What Holo told Elsa was not quite to the point, but she got the general gist when she applied her own knowledge to the situation. First, many merchants were in town for the grand market at the moment, which made for a perfect opportunity to talk about plenty of longstanding issues, when the question of tariffs came up. Wine merchants and ale merchants have always been at odds with one another, and in turn, ale merchants have always been competitors with the bakeries since they vie for the same resource. And the bakeries have traditionally never gotten along with the butchers—listening to one party's objection meant earning another party's ire. In general, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" was logic that was easily upheld here, so parties whose interests did not conflict often teamed up to make sure their grievances were heard, but the local lord, dressed in red, would often unilaterally make decisions when it came to these matters, so they would either leave things up to divine providence and draw straws, or allow influential members of each party to cast anonymous votes. The Salonia church bishop often took charge here, but the church itself had its own interests in many affairs concerning the town, so the participants would not so readily listen to what they had to say, especially if they were the ones getting the short end of the stick in the resulting deal. And then, out of the blue, Lawrence appears in town, a person who has great influence but little to do with any parties involved, so everyone began to promise him rewards in an attempt to flatter and gain his favor. The woodworkers, especially, who had been suffocated by high tariffs, had been particularly aggressive in persuading Lawrence to secure them some tax relief, but the Church profited mightily from those same tariffs, which meant that the bishop was trying to get Lawrence on his side by making absurd promises. What he suggested was purchasing privileges for some of the land surrounding Salonia—essentially making Lawrence nobility. "He worked quite fast."

When these revelers spotted Elsa, they quickly fixed their posture and lowered their voices. After giving them a vague, nonchalant smile, she listened to what Holo had to report. "Were you drinking the entire time afterward?" By the time Elsa found Holo again, there sat on the table a cup of wine she very much doubted was Holo's first and a plate of ribs that had been licked clean. "You fool. This is a promise to become some landowning lord, you know. I had my suspicions that the fool might be tricked again, but there is a chance he is not." "There is a chance, yes." "Rabbits do sleep in the middle of the road from time to time." Perhaps it was because Holo had already lived for such a long time, or she was originally like this, but she tended to have a pessimistic, depressing outlook on things. Lawrence was her sun and it was his existence that brightened her days. "And so, he has decided to look into it himself, because he cannot ignore the chance that it might be a good deal." But Elsa wondered if the seemingly lackadaisical but surprisingly shrewd bishop would bring something like that up in such an offhand manner. It was much more likely that Lawrence was being tricked, like Holo first suspected. Or perhaps Holo did not want to dampen Lawrence's mood when he was delighted at the prospect of being a noble, and was trying to convince herself that it was, indeed, a very good deal. All Elsa could do was guess when it came to discord in that department, but regardless, the point of compromise she had come up with sat beside her. "She knows a lot about this area. I went for a quick run to fetch her after we parted ways." "Umm... I can't say I know a lot about how the human world works, though..." The girl sitting next to Holo, shrinking into herself, was still bigger than Holo despite how much she hunched over—and her name was Tanya. She was a squirrel avatar who had lived in the cursed mountain, the one of legend in the Vallan Bishopric that Elsa had originally needed help with. Tanya certainly seemed like she would know the area's history in the magnitude of centuries, so perhaps this was indeed the correct choice. But in any case, Elsa thought they could have picked a better place to meet than this. It was starting to dawn on her that the men around them were not looking at their table because a woman in holy robes—Elsa—was spending time at a place of drink and revelry. They were looking at Tanya, who had fluffy, curly hair and voluminous curves that neither Elsa nor Holo possessed. Any man who approached with the intention of speaking to her would quickly spot Holo, who was a minor celebrity in town, and Elsa, who wore the cloth of the Church, then quickly retreat with a vague smile. Holo did not seem to mind at all, and Tanya had not even noticed she was being looked at to begin with, so Elsa decided not to let it bother her. "Miss Tanya, do you know of House Voragine?" Elsa had asked some of the Vallan Bishopric priests who were staying in town about what the bishop was planning in detail, then returned to the church to peruse the town annals. What the bishop had promised Lawrence was land and ownership privileges that once belonged to the Voragine family. It would be a sale of the title, not a cession of it, of course, but it was still extremely difficult to buy something like privileges even with all the money in the world, so the prospect alone of being able to purchase one was almost absurd. "Oh, yes, I do. They were quite well-known, once. It wasn't long ago, I think." Tanya was sipping cider and nibbling on wheat bread. A dissatisfied look crossed her face; she put it down and produced a small sack filled with acorn bread she had made herself, and continued speaking, her face lighting up in delight. "Not long ago? When exactly?" Acorn bread was made to simply stave off hunger, so when Holo watched Tanya eat it with such delight, a sour look crossed her face as she remembered how tart and bitter it tasted.

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

When these revelers spotted Elsa, they quickly fixed their posture and lowered their voices. After giving them a vague, nonchalant smile, she listened to what Holo had to report. "Were you drinking the entire time afterward?" By the time Elsa found Holo again, there sat on the table a cup of wine she very much doubted was Holo's first and a plate of ribs that had been licked clean. "You fool. This is a promise to become some landowning lord, you know. I had my suspicions that the fool might be tricked again, but there is a chance he is not." "There is a chance, yes." "Rabbits do sleep in the middle of the road from time to time." Perhaps it was because Holo had already lived for such a long time, or she was originally like this, but she tended to have a pessimistic, depressing outlook on things. Lawrence was her sun and it was his existence that brightened her days. "And so, he has decided to look into it himself, because he cannot ignore the chance that it might be a good deal." But Elsa wondered if the seemingly lackadaisical but surprisingly shrewd bishop would bring something like that up in such an offhand manner. It was much more likely that Lawrence was being tricked, like Holo first suspected. Or perhaps Holo did not want to dampen Lawrence's mood when he was delighted at the prospect of being a noble, and was trying to convince herself that it was, indeed, a very good deal. All Elsa could do was guess when it came to discord in that department, but regardless, the point of compromise she had come up with sat beside her. "She knows a lot about this area. I went for a quick run to fetch her after we parted ways." "Umm... I can't say I know a lot about how the human world works, though..." The girl sitting next to Holo, shrinking into herself, was still bigger than Holo despite how much she hunched over—and her name was Tanya. She was a squirrel avatar who had lived in the cursed mountain, the one of legend in the Vallan Bishopric that Elsa had originally needed help with. Tanya certainly seemed like she would know the area's history in the magnitude of centuries, so perhaps this was indeed the correct choice. But in any case, Elsa thought they could have picked a better place to meet than this. It was starting to dawn on her that the men around them were not looking at their table because a woman in holy robes—Elsa—was spending time at a place of drink and revelry. They were looking at Tanya, who had fluffy, curly hair and voluminous curves that neither Elsa nor Holo possessed. Any man who approached with the intention of speaking to her would quickly spot Holo, who was a minor celebrity in town, and Elsa, who wore the cloth of the Church, then quickly retreat with a vague smile. Holo did not seem to mind at all, and Tanya had not even noticed she was being looked at to begin with, so Elsa decided not to let it bother her. "Miss Tanya, do you know of House Voragine?" Elsa had asked some of the Vallan Bishopric priests who were staying in town about what the bishop was planning in detail, then returned to the church to peruse the town annals. What the bishop had promised Lawrence was land and ownership privileges that once belonged to the Voragine family. It would be a sale of the title, not a cession of it, of course, but it was still extremely difficult to buy something like privileges even with all the money in the world, so the prospect alone of being able to purchase one was almost absurd. "Oh, yes, I do. They were quite well-known, once. It wasn't long ago, I think." Tanya was sipping cider and nibbling on wheat bread. A dissatisfied look crossed her face; she put it down and produced a small sack filled with acorn bread she had made herself, and continued speaking, her face lighting up in delight. "Not long ago? When exactly?" Acorn bread was made to simply stave off hunger, so when Holo watched Tanya eat it with such delight, a sour look crossed her face as she remembered how tart and bitter it tasted.

"If this was before the alchemists came, then it must have been over fifty years ago, but not quite an entire century, yes?" Non-humans like her and Holo considered such timespans to be short; Elsa mused at how Holo easily considered herself a young girl. "I think it was a hero who took down a great serpent that slithered through the earth." Holo's wolf ears twitched under her headkerchief. That was when Elsa realized, of course, why they were looking at her like that. She was not particularly perturbed, however, and asked Tanya, "There is record of that legend in the Church annals. Did it really happen?" "Umm... I'm not sure? I don't really like open spaces, so I rarely ever came this way. I heard about it from the people who came to dig up metal in the mountain." "I see." Elsa nodded. Now it was Holo's turn to speak, and she seemed somewhat jealous. "That was not the one who protected your village?" Tanya blinked, looking back and forth between Holo and Elsa. Unable to respond to Holo right away, Elsa first took a sip of her wine, sour and lacking alcohol from being overheated. "I don't know." There was a world of meaning behind her answer. For one thing, she was unsure if this great serpent was the same one that was worshipped as guardian spirit in her hometown of Tereo. For another, she was unsure if the snake had indeed protected her village. "Ah, you are a person of the Church through and through." There were thorns in Holo's statement, and Tanya shrunk herself down, having sensed the discord in the atmosphere, but Elsa let it roll off her. "There is no telling where it went, if it actually existed, and what it was doing in the village if it did. Personally, seeing you has partially convinced me." "What? What did I do?" The way grease from the grilled meat stained the corners of Holo's mouth reminded Elsa of the rest of her family and how they acted at mealtimes. "That perhaps it decided to take a little winter's nap that turned out to be on the long side." Before meeting Holo, Elsa had attributed a dignified quality to all the supernatural entities that made up the pagan myths across the world. But once she came across Holo and was afforded a peek into their world, she came to understand that despite a difference in senses, they were essentially the same as regular humans. She produced a small handkerchief from her pocket, leaned across the table, wiped the corner of an annoyed Holo's mouth for her before continuing to share her thoughts. "I'm sure it would be much too lonely to sleep in a place that was too quiet." Holo was growing more and more angry with what those words indicated, but Elsa only chuckled and turned to look at Tanya. "I suppose you wouldn't know, either, Miss Tanya. There is a myth of a great serpent in the village where I was born." "Um... Oh!" "But don't worry about it. I have never seen it. All that is left is a great cave where it was said to live." Tanya still lowered her head apologetically, so Elsa continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "Getting back on topic, due to the Voragine family's success in slaying the great serpent that once terrorized this plain, they were gifted a portion of the land and were appointed as nobility. The church here said that God loaned his power to the hero in the battle with the serpent." Holo scoffed. "Not once have I ever seen this God for myself."

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

"If this was before the alchemists came, then it must have been over fifty years ago, but not quite an entire century, yes?" Non-humans like her and Holo considered such timespans to be short; Elsa mused at how Holo easily considered herself a young girl. "I think it was a hero who took down a great serpent that slithered through the earth." Holo's wolf ears twitched under her headkerchief. That was when Elsa realized, of course, why they were looking at her like that. She was not particularly perturbed, however, and asked Tanya, "There is record of that legend in the Church annals. Did it really happen?" "Umm... I'm not sure? I don't really like open spaces, so I rarely ever came this way. I heard about it from the people who came to dig up metal in the mountain." "I see." Elsa nodded. Now it was Holo's turn to speak, and she seemed somewhat jealous. "That was not the one who protected your village?" Tanya blinked, looking back and forth between Holo and Elsa. Unable to respond to Holo right away, Elsa first took a sip of her wine, sour and lacking alcohol from being overheated. "I don't know." There was a world of meaning behind her answer. For one thing, she was unsure if this great serpent was the same one that was worshipped as guardian spirit in her hometown of Tereo. For another, she was unsure if the snake had indeed protected her village. "Ah, you are a person of the Church through and through." There were thorns in Holo's statement, and Tanya shrunk herself down, having sensed the discord in the atmosphere, but Elsa let it roll off her. "There is no telling where it went, if it actually existed, and what it was doing in the village if it did. Personally, seeing you has partially convinced me." "What? What did I do?" The way grease from the grilled meat stained the corners of Holo's mouth reminded Elsa of the rest of her family and how they acted at mealtimes. "That perhaps it decided to take a little winter's nap that turned out to be on the long side." Before meeting Holo, Elsa had attributed a dignified quality to all the supernatural entities that made up the pagan myths across the world. But once she came across Holo and was afforded a peek into their world, she came to understand that despite a difference in senses, they were essentially the same as regular humans. She produced a small handkerchief from her pocket, leaned across the table, wiped the corner of an annoyed Holo's mouth for her before continuing to share her thoughts. "I'm sure it would be much too lonely to sleep in a place that was too quiet." Holo was growing more and more angry with what those words indicated, but Elsa only chuckled and turned to look at Tanya. "I suppose you wouldn't know, either, Miss Tanya. There is a myth of a great serpent in the village where I was born." "Um... Oh!" "But don't worry about it. I have never seen it. All that is left is a great cave where it was said to live." Tanya still lowered her head apologetically, so Elsa continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "Getting back on topic, due to the Voragine family's success in slaying the great serpent that once terrorized this plain, they were gifted a portion of the land and were appointed as nobility. The church here said that God loaned his power to the hero in the battle with the serpent." Holo scoffed. "Not once have I ever seen this God for myself."

"Mm?" Holo furrowed her shapely brows and glanced at Tanya beside her. It was likely that she only looked at her to see if she knew anything, but when Tanya pulled out her second piece of acorn bread, she pulled up her shoulders as though she had done something wrong. "And it seems the Voragine family died out after one or two generations. The land, privileges, and proceeds from the tariffs were then donated to the Church. Mister Lawrence..." Elsa paused before continuing to say, "...has been promised the family's privileges, interests, the complete set of titles, and the right to live in their fortress as a reward." "Hmm..." A hard look crossed Holo's face as she hummed in thought. "The reward is much too generous." The look on her face told Elsa that she was convinced her kindhearted husband was about to fall for another scheme. "This does not seem to be a simple transfer, so I cannot say much in that regard. It would cost quite a large sum. Being able to outright buy something like this would be nothing short of a miracle—not even the greatest merchant with the biggest coffers would be able to pull this off normally. So in that sense? Yes, it is very generous. If he manages to mediate this quarrel over tariffs, after all, then what the bishop is saying is that he'd be able to become a landowning noble." "And he is quite elated." Holo gave a deep sigh, pursing her lips. But Elsa realized that what she was seeing was not anger. Holo was not annoyed that he was being taken in by promises too good to be true. It was almost as though she was upset that she would have to dampen her companion's excitement as he found joy in a bright future. Lawrence doted on Holo, yes, but his wife was no slouch either. Elsa had a vague picture of what Holo was like when she ruled over the wheat harvest in her little village. It must have been an idyllic time, much like the warm scene of a child begging their mother for something before bed. As Holo hummed in thought, Tanya, who had been munching on her acorn bread, suddenly looked up in some sort of realization. "Oh, about the serpent..." "Did you remember something?" "Yes, yes I did. I remember seeing people complaining that they wanted to sell all the metal they dug up, but they couldn't do very good trade with faraway lands because of the serpent. I remember that because I thought, Serves you right." There was a hint of anger in Tanya's voice, as though recalling the time when humans laid waste to the mountain. She aggressively bit into her acorn bread. "Aye, 'twould be a problem with a big snake taking up camp in the area. I would be frightened if it were venomous." "I have dreams about getting swallowed whole by snakes even when I see a little one." Elsa was not entirely convinced by their conversation. "...Do you all attack people?" When she had been collecting stories on the pagan gods, the only time she had heard of them attacking humans was when they ravaged their sanctuaries, though there were some exceptions. Regardless, the image of a great serpent roaming the plains randomly attacking people did not line up with the impression she had of Holo and the other non-humans she had met. "I do no such thing." Holo gave a huffy response. Tanya placed a finger to her chin and said, "Maybe it was stretched out over the field, sunbathing?" When she mentioned it, both Elsa and Holo pictured the same thing. When a snake big enough to swallow a cow whole stretched out to occupy an entire plain, its existence alone would be enough to disrupt trade in one manner or another, even if it was not doing anything particularly bad. "When we ventured from your mountain to this city, we had quite a good view of the land, but how big would it have to be to occupy this plain?" Holo asked. "In the stories of the pagan gods that I collected, I found a tale of snake long enough where the weather at its head was different from the weather at its tail," Elsa said.

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

"Mm?" Holo furrowed her shapely brows and glanced at Tanya beside her. It was likely that she only looked at her to see if she knew anything, but when Tanya pulled out her second piece of acorn bread, she pulled up her shoulders as though she had done something wrong. "And it seems the Voragine family died out after one or two generations. The land, privileges, and proceeds from the tariffs were then donated to the Church. Mister Lawrence..." Elsa paused before continuing to say, "...has been promised the family's privileges, interests, the complete set of titles, and the right to live in their fortress as a reward." "Hmm..." A hard look crossed Holo's face as she hummed in thought. "The reward is much too generous." The look on her face told Elsa that she was convinced her kindhearted husband was about to fall for another scheme. "This does not seem to be a simple transfer, so I cannot say much in that regard. It would cost quite a large sum. Being able to outright buy something like this would be nothing short of a miracle—not even the greatest merchant with the biggest coffers would be able to pull this off normally. So in that sense? Yes, it is very generous. If he manages to mediate this quarrel over tariffs, after all, then what the bishop is saying is that he'd be able to become a landowning noble." "And he is quite elated." Holo gave a deep sigh, pursing her lips. But Elsa realized that what she was seeing was not anger. Holo was not annoyed that he was being taken in by promises too good to be true. It was almost as though she was upset that she would have to dampen her companion's excitement as he found joy in a bright future. Lawrence doted on Holo, yes, but his wife was no slouch either. Elsa had a vague picture of what Holo was like when she ruled over the wheat harvest in her little village. It must have been an idyllic time, much like the warm scene of a child begging their mother for something before bed. As Holo hummed in thought, Tanya, who had been munching on her acorn bread, suddenly looked up in some sort of realization. "Oh, about the serpent..." "Did you remember something?" "Yes, yes I did. I remember seeing people complaining that they wanted to sell all the metal they dug up, but they couldn't do very good trade with faraway lands because of the serpent. I remember that because I thought, Serves you right." There was a hint of anger in Tanya's voice, as though recalling the time when humans laid waste to the mountain. She aggressively bit into her acorn bread. "Aye, 'twould be a problem with a big snake taking up camp in the area. I would be frightened if it were venomous." "I have dreams about getting swallowed whole by snakes even when I see a little one." Elsa was not entirely convinced by their conversation. "...Do you all attack people?" When she had been collecting stories on the pagan gods, the only time she had heard of them attacking humans was when they ravaged their sanctuaries, though there were some exceptions. Regardless, the image of a great serpent roaming the plains randomly attacking people did not line up with the impression she had of Holo and the other non-humans she had met. "I do no such thing." Holo gave a huffy response. Tanya placed a finger to her chin and said, "Maybe it was stretched out over the field, sunbathing?" When she mentioned it, both Elsa and Holo pictured the same thing. When a snake big enough to swallow a cow whole stretched out to occupy an entire plain, its existence alone would be enough to disrupt trade in one manner or another, even if it was not doing anything particularly bad. "When we ventured from your mountain to this city, we had quite a good view of the land, but how big would it have to be to occupy this plain?" Holo asked. "In the stories of the pagan gods that I collected, I found a tale of snake long enough where the weather at its head was different from the weather at its tail," Elsa said.

Holo was right, but Elsa noticed how upset Tanya seemed—she was the one who brought up the snake because she thought it might prove useful—so she quickly changed the topic. "E-either way, an abnormally large serpent slithering about would make it just as difficult to carry out simple trade. It makes perfect sense that the Hero Voragine vanquishing the serpent made it possible for trade to resume. It also makes sense that the right to collect tariffs was also collateral in the situation." After throwing Elsa a cautious glance, Tanya gave her a relieved smile. "Well, I don't quite understand, but it sounds as though some benefits gained from old efforts are being dangled before that fool's eyes. Yet...lordship, was it? Could the fool even afford something so outrageous? 'Tis not as though we are selling the bathhouse in Nyohhira..." "What?! Are you going to live here, Lady Holo?" Tanya's eyes widened in surprise, joy coloring her eyes. "I would be so happy if you lived nearby!" "You fool, that would nev—Actually, I do not know. I do not know. Do not make that face at me." The mountain Tanya had so peacefully lived on had been ravaged when it was developed for mining, and when the veins ran dry, she started replanting trees, little by little. It was then that she became friends with alchemists who happened to drop by, but they, too, left without any word as to where they ended up, and she had been waiting happily for their return all the while. Naturally, she had attached herself to Holo, and Holo, too, worried about her. Though Tanya looked older than Holo, Holo soothed her as though she were a much larger, younger sister. The sight was silly enough to earn them a smile from Elsa; as she did so, she spotted a small group of people beyond the non-human pair. They were well-dressed merchants, having just emerged from the assembly hall, which played host to a very important meeting here in Salonia. They exchanged handshakes, stretched and pounded their backs after escaping such a long meeting. Elsa spotted a familiar figure among the crowd, and Holo sniffed before turning around. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, I suppose we have no choice but to hear the fool's side of the story." The sun was beginning to set, and lanterns were being lit throughout the plaza. Though the crowd made it hard to see anything well, three women sitting outside a tavern stood out like a sore thumb. Lawrence noticed them before Holo could call out to him; a look of surprise crossed his face before he approached them with a smile and a wave. "Now this is an interesting party." Lawrence was clearly bewildered to see Tanya, but he quickly donned his mask of calm, like any seasoned merchant would. "You haven't had too much to drink, have you, Holo?" "What a fool you are." Holo seemed displeased to see her husband, but she also looked like she was blushing. Lawrence, of course, only reacted with a slight grimace before removing his wallet from his hip and placing it straight on the table in front of them. "I can leave this with you, because Miss Elsa's here." Though this was his offer to pay for their drinks, Elsa was astonished by how smooth-tongued he was. "Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt your delightful evening chat," he said, attempting to leave. It was his sheep's instinct that was telling him to go. It was Holo the wolf who stopped him. "We are drinking because we are talking about you." *** Lawrence tried to flash a smile with his merchant's mask, but he could not quite pull it off because he sensed something was off with Holo. "Well, um..." "Sit," Holo commanded, and Tanya, who had been sitting beside her, hurriedly got up from her seat and rounded the table, cautiously settling back down beside Elsa. What wafted by her was a sweet, deep forest scent, unlike perfume, and Elsa finally understood why she had attracted so much male attention. "Should I pray?"

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

Holo was right, but Elsa noticed how upset Tanya seemed—she was the one who brought up the snake because she thought it might prove useful—so she quickly changed the topic. "E-either way, an abnormally large serpent slithering about would make it just as difficult to carry out simple trade. It makes perfect sense that the Hero Voragine vanquishing the serpent made it possible for trade to resume. It also makes sense that the right to collect tariffs was also collateral in the situation." After throwing Elsa a cautious glance, Tanya gave her a relieved smile. "Well, I don't quite understand, but it sounds as though some benefits gained from old efforts are being dangled before that fool's eyes. Yet...lordship, was it? Could the fool even afford something so outrageous? 'Tis not as though we are selling the bathhouse in Nyohhira..." "What?! Are you going to live here, Lady Holo?" Tanya's eyes widened in surprise, joy coloring her eyes. "I would be so happy if you lived nearby!" "You fool, that would nev—Actually, I do not know. I do not know. Do not make that face at me." The mountain Tanya had so peacefully lived on had been ravaged when it was developed for mining, and when the veins ran dry, she started replanting trees, little by little. It was then that she became friends with alchemists who happened to drop by, but they, too, left without any word as to where they ended up, and she had been waiting happily for their return all the while. Naturally, she had attached herself to Holo, and Holo, too, worried about her. Though Tanya looked older than Holo, Holo soothed her as though she were a much larger, younger sister. The sight was silly enough to earn them a smile from Elsa; as she did so, she spotted a small group of people beyond the non-human pair. They were well-dressed merchants, having just emerged from the assembly hall, which played host to a very important meeting here in Salonia. They exchanged handshakes, stretched and pounded their backs after escaping such a long meeting. Elsa spotted a familiar figure among the crowd, and Holo sniffed before turning around. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, I suppose we have no choice but to hear the fool's side of the story." The sun was beginning to set, and lanterns were being lit throughout the plaza. Though the crowd made it hard to see anything well, three women sitting outside a tavern stood out like a sore thumb. Lawrence noticed them before Holo could call out to him; a look of surprise crossed his face before he approached them with a smile and a wave. "Now this is an interesting party." Lawrence was clearly bewildered to see Tanya, but he quickly donned his mask of calm, like any seasoned merchant would. "You haven't had too much to drink, have you, Holo?" "What a fool you are." Holo seemed displeased to see her husband, but she also looked like she was blushing. Lawrence, of course, only reacted with a slight grimace before removing his wallet from his hip and placing it straight on the table in front of them. "I can leave this with you, because Miss Elsa's here." Though this was his offer to pay for their drinks, Elsa was astonished by how smooth-tongued he was. "Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt your delightful evening chat," he said, attempting to leave. It was his sheep's instinct that was telling him to go. It was Holo the wolf who stopped him. "We are drinking because we are talking about you." *** Lawrence tried to flash a smile with his merchant's mask, but he could not quite pull it off because he sensed something was off with Holo. "Well, um..." "Sit," Holo commanded, and Tanya, who had been sitting beside her, hurriedly got up from her seat and rounded the table, cautiously settling back down beside Elsa. What wafted by her was a sweet, deep forest scent, unlike perfume, and Elsa finally understood why she had attracted so much male attention. "Should I pray?"

But Elsa could tell that Holo's sullen look was because she was considering how to broach the topic with Lawrence. Not wanting to wait any longer, Elsa gave a short sigh and said, "Holo came to me with concerns that Salonia's bishop was up to no good." Lawrence immediately understood that the first victim in this plot would be himself. "Is this about the title?" Lawrence asked, and Holo looked away in a dramatic huff. "Is she thinking that...restless footing is more easily stolen away?" This was doubtlessly an interaction that had repeated itself between the two since the day they met. An obvious troubled smile crossed Lawrence's face, like the merchant he was, and he sighed. "I have double—triple calculated the projected losses and gains, and I know that the bishop has his own motives." "Fool," Holo spoke at last, turning wholly to face him. "Land? A noble name? That cannot come cheap. Do you plan on selling the bathhouse?" She was a wolf avatar, once called the wisewolf—she had no interest in any renown the human world had to offer. While it might seem the case at first, this wolf whose love for meat and drinks over a banquet did not actually desire such things. The reason Elsa scolded Holo like a child for her slovenly lifestyle was because there was nothing overly pompous about Holo that was worth mentioning, and there was a comfortable air between them as they both shared opinions on a great many things. "Mister Lawrence, I do not think the bishop would propose an idea that would mainly benefit another. As frivolous and opportunistic as he seems, he is ruthless." Though she typically hesitated in speaking ill of those with higher ranks in the Church, it was how she genuinely felt. Lawrence seemed to shrink away from the way Holo and Elsa looked at him, like a merchant being questioned at a checkpoint. "Well, um... Do you mind if I give you an excuse?" Elsa looked at Holo, and Holo sunk her canines into her grilled meat with displeasure. "I am curious to hear what sort of flattery the bishop has been subjecting you to." Lawrence gave a strained smile in response to what Elsa said and replied, "I will not pay a single silver myself." "What?" Holo sputtered in disbelief. "He proposed that, in exchange for receiving the title, the tariff levying powers that come with it, and the rights to land in the Salonia region, I pay a fixed sum to the Church every year." *** Holo narrowed her eyes, looking at Lawrence in confusion, before turning to look at Elsa. "I see," Elsa said. "That means he is not particularly attached to the privileges the Church has, so long as the amount of money going into his pocket is the same every year." "Those titles are collecting dust somewhere in the church storehouse right now. It's not a loss for the bishop at all." That meant no one's wallet would hurt in the exchange, and the bishop would earn a powerful ally in Lawrence. It was an easy-to-understand deal, one that the bishop would very likely propose. But to Elsa, who had struggled with church ledgers throughout the land with all the turmoil that surrounded the church now, felt a discomfort, one she was not fully satisfied with. "If he were to propose this to me, I would then be motivated to keep tariffs high. I would have to pay him every year, you see. And even if the church decides to lower tariffs in the future, they will be still expect the same amount of money from me." The whole debt crisis in town had started when the bishop hastily threw an merchant into jail over a debt, but he was shrewd when it came to these things. He was a true scoundrel. Elsa sighed. "And so do you plan to take the bishop's side?" When Elsa asked, Holo, who was not interested in the details but desperately wanted to know the short answer, turned to look at Lawrence as she bit into her new plate of meat. It was almost as though she was threatening to do the same to him if she did not like his answer. "I'm a bit conflicted."

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

But Elsa could tell that Holo's sullen look was because she was considering how to broach the topic with Lawrence. Not wanting to wait any longer, Elsa gave a short sigh and said, "Holo came to me with concerns that Salonia's bishop was up to no good." Lawrence immediately understood that the first victim in this plot would be himself. "Is this about the title?" Lawrence asked, and Holo looked away in a dramatic huff. "Is she thinking that...restless footing is more easily stolen away?" This was doubtlessly an interaction that had repeated itself between the two since the day they met. An obvious troubled smile crossed Lawrence's face, like the merchant he was, and he sighed. "I have double—triple calculated the projected losses and gains, and I know that the bishop has his own motives." "Fool," Holo spoke at last, turning wholly to face him. "Land? A noble name? That cannot come cheap. Do you plan on selling the bathhouse?" She was a wolf avatar, once called the wisewolf—she had no interest in any renown the human world had to offer. While it might seem the case at first, this wolf whose love for meat and drinks over a banquet did not actually desire such things. The reason Elsa scolded Holo like a child for her slovenly lifestyle was because there was nothing overly pompous about Holo that was worth mentioning, and there was a comfortable air between them as they both shared opinions on a great many things. "Mister Lawrence, I do not think the bishop would propose an idea that would mainly benefit another. As frivolous and opportunistic as he seems, he is ruthless." Though she typically hesitated in speaking ill of those with higher ranks in the Church, it was how she genuinely felt. Lawrence seemed to shrink away from the way Holo and Elsa looked at him, like a merchant being questioned at a checkpoint. "Well, um... Do you mind if I give you an excuse?" Elsa looked at Holo, and Holo sunk her canines into her grilled meat with displeasure. "I am curious to hear what sort of flattery the bishop has been subjecting you to." Lawrence gave a strained smile in response to what Elsa said and replied, "I will not pay a single silver myself." "What?" Holo sputtered in disbelief. "He proposed that, in exchange for receiving the title, the tariff levying powers that come with it, and the rights to land in the Salonia region, I pay a fixed sum to the Church every year." *** Holo narrowed her eyes, looking at Lawrence in confusion, before turning to look at Elsa. "I see," Elsa said. "That means he is not particularly attached to the privileges the Church has, so long as the amount of money going into his pocket is the same every year." "Those titles are collecting dust somewhere in the church storehouse right now. It's not a loss for the bishop at all." That meant no one's wallet would hurt in the exchange, and the bishop would earn a powerful ally in Lawrence. It was an easy-to-understand deal, one that the bishop would very likely propose. But to Elsa, who had struggled with church ledgers throughout the land with all the turmoil that surrounded the church now, felt a discomfort, one she was not fully satisfied with. "If he were to propose this to me, I would then be motivated to keep tariffs high. I would have to pay him every year, you see. And even if the church decides to lower tariffs in the future, they will be still expect the same amount of money from me." The whole debt crisis in town had started when the bishop hastily threw an merchant into jail over a debt, but he was shrewd when it came to these things. He was a true scoundrel. Elsa sighed. "And so do you plan to take the bishop's side?" When Elsa asked, Holo, who was not interested in the details but desperately wanted to know the short answer, turned to look at Lawrence as she bit into her new plate of meat. It was almost as though she was threatening to do the same to him if she did not like his answer. "I'm a bit conflicted."

"Miss Tanya being here must mean...you three were looking into the origins of the tariffs, weren't you?" Tanya, who had been sitting by her lonesome, not quite a part of the conversation, immediately perked up. "A portion of the goods in this city have oddly high tariffs," Lawrence explained. "They say that stems from the Hero Voragine's work." "He's the one who defeated the great serpent." Tanya gave her friendly smile, since she understood this conversation. Lawrence smiled in response and continued, "That was a long time ago. And you know what they say—don't pour new wine into an old wineskin." "...Do you mean that people doubt these origins?" "No one likes taxes. Any strong allegation needs an equally strong excuse. Persuading people with a figure of myth who may or may not have actually existed can only go so far." The shrewd bishop may have sensed that a shadow was being cast over the authority of an old tale. He then set his mind into motion, trying to figure out a way to keep earning the same amount of money despite anticipating the lowered tariffs in the future. And just as he had forced church work upon Elsa, he was dressing up a dying candle and trying to pass it off to Lawrence, assuring the merchant that the candle was all his, so long as it kept illuminating the church. "With solid grounds for the tariffs, then I believe accepting the offer would not be a bad idea. But if it is indeed an entirely made-up story, then there is a very good chance that you would be losing out here, especially since the tariffs will indeed come down one day." If tariff income went down despite having made the promise to pay a fixed fee each year, then whoever owned those interests would suffer huge losses. The deal offered to Lawrence was not without its disadvantages. "'Tis as though we are meant to find this great serpent," Holo said to Lawrence with a disappointed look, her elbows planted firmly on the table either because she was drunk or vexed. Lawrence then smiled at Holo before turning to Elsa. "And God must have had a hand in this today, because there so happens to be a native from a village with a serpent myth right here." Lawrence had mostly seen through the bishop's scheme. And on top of that, he knew he had a lot of resources within his reach. Hidden beneath their courteous smiles was a battle of wits between Lawrence and the bishop. The winner would profit greatly, of course, but for Lawrence, it came with the extra prize of showing off to Holo. Elsa turned to meet Holo's gaze, and she shrugged. Holo threw back her wine cup to drown out her utterance, "You lot are unbelievable." *** If the myth about the great serpent turned out to be true and they could provide solid proof of such, then it would be a powerful reason for them to keep tariffs as they were. But conversely, if the myth turned out to be nothing but a tall tale, then it would be very difficult for the town to maintain the historically high tariffs. That was the gist of the situation, but Elsa still had something she wanted to ask Lawrence. The day after their conversation at the square, Salonia's grand market and the future festival were both entering their final stages. Their festival did not have venerable origins, unlike most other places, and instead was simply meant to celebrate the year's harvest, to have one last big party before the bleak winter, and to venerate a saint that had been retroactively created to fit the celebration, so it was essentially a big, ordinary feast. Since Holo was the one who helped select the alcohol that would be served at the final ceremony, the townsfolk had roped her into helping prepare for the festival bright and early in the morning. She went to practice a quick ceremonial exchange and have adjustments made to the costume she would wear on the day. The bishop, too, was in charge of running the festival, so he was absent from tariff meetings that day.

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

"Miss Tanya being here must mean...you three were looking into the origins of the tariffs, weren't you?" Tanya, who had been sitting by her lonesome, not quite a part of the conversation, immediately perked up. "A portion of the goods in this city have oddly high tariffs," Lawrence explained. "They say that stems from the Hero Voragine's work." "He's the one who defeated the great serpent." Tanya gave her friendly smile, since she understood this conversation. Lawrence smiled in response and continued, "That was a long time ago. And you know what they say—don't pour new wine into an old wineskin." "...Do you mean that people doubt these origins?" "No one likes taxes. Any strong allegation needs an equally strong excuse. Persuading people with a figure of myth who may or may not have actually existed can only go so far." The shrewd bishop may have sensed that a shadow was being cast over the authority of an old tale. He then set his mind into motion, trying to figure out a way to keep earning the same amount of money despite anticipating the lowered tariffs in the future. And just as he had forced church work upon Elsa, he was dressing up a dying candle and trying to pass it off to Lawrence, assuring the merchant that the candle was all his, so long as it kept illuminating the church. "With solid grounds for the tariffs, then I believe accepting the offer would not be a bad idea. But if it is indeed an entirely made-up story, then there is a very good chance that you would be losing out here, especially since the tariffs will indeed come down one day." If tariff income went down despite having made the promise to pay a fixed fee each year, then whoever owned those interests would suffer huge losses. The deal offered to Lawrence was not without its disadvantages. "'Tis as though we are meant to find this great serpent," Holo said to Lawrence with a disappointed look, her elbows planted firmly on the table either because she was drunk or vexed. Lawrence then smiled at Holo before turning to Elsa. "And God must have had a hand in this today, because there so happens to be a native from a village with a serpent myth right here." Lawrence had mostly seen through the bishop's scheme. And on top of that, he knew he had a lot of resources within his reach. Hidden beneath their courteous smiles was a battle of wits between Lawrence and the bishop. The winner would profit greatly, of course, but for Lawrence, it came with the extra prize of showing off to Holo. Elsa turned to meet Holo's gaze, and she shrugged. Holo threw back her wine cup to drown out her utterance, "You lot are unbelievable." *** If the myth about the great serpent turned out to be true and they could provide solid proof of such, then it would be a powerful reason for them to keep tariffs as they were. But conversely, if the myth turned out to be nothing but a tall tale, then it would be very difficult for the town to maintain the historically high tariffs. That was the gist of the situation, but Elsa still had something she wanted to ask Lawrence. The day after their conversation at the square, Salonia's grand market and the future festival were both entering their final stages. Their festival did not have venerable origins, unlike most other places, and instead was simply meant to celebrate the year's harvest, to have one last big party before the bleak winter, and to venerate a saint that had been retroactively created to fit the celebration, so it was essentially a big, ordinary feast. Since Holo was the one who helped select the alcohol that would be served at the final ceremony, the townsfolk had roped her into helping prepare for the festival bright and early in the morning. She went to practice a quick ceremonial exchange and have adjustments made to the costume she would wear on the day. The bishop, too, was in charge of running the festival, so he was absent from tariff meetings that day.

"What do you think of the tariffs?" she asked. "What do I think, hmm?" Lawrence gave her a very mercantile-like expression of feigned ignorance, then dropped his hammer on a walnut. They sat together in a corner of the church on the flagstone floor, splitting the walnuts Tanya had brought from her mountain as a souvenir. "As a matter of justice," she elaborated. "What do you mean?" The walnut shells, after being roasted to the point where they just barely cracked open, were easily split with the hammers. Lawrence picked out the inside of his walnut with delight, as though justice or truth itself had been hidden inside it. "Tariffs pay for road repairs, waterwheels, city governance, and the guards who keep order. But not every coin collected by those tariffs goes toward those things," she said. "Sometimes they also fill another's coffers. Like a botfly gorging itself on blood, right?" Elsa brought down her hammer, cracking a walnut. "This church does not need any more money. And cheaper lumber prices means that people can live in houses for less." "And winter is coming up soon. People will need to light their hearths." "And thus, justice." Lawrence was not a completely heartless merchant, but that did not mean he was completely altruistic, either. "I understand what you mean, Miss Elsa, but in the coming months without any farmwork, the villagers who dig up peat may want lumber prices to remain high." Just as it was the farmers' job to carry the lumber to the peat-diggers' villages, the lumber trade belonged to the affluent merchants. Once he brought up the line of thought that tariffs were on the people's side, then it was difficult to say which was which. "But did you not say that the tariffs here are too high?" Lawrence watched Tanya, who sat apart from them splitting walnuts with some of the other town girls, even as he did the same. The girls, seemingly bored of the task, were instead combing Tanya's fluffy hair, braiding it, and pulling it up as they pleased with giggles. "It is, yes. Unnaturally so." Elsa, who had lived in a small village and had worried a lot about the tax problem, considered taxes as something that made people suffer. Watching Lawrence work to preserve such high tariffs left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "Don't you think we should lower them, then?" Unlike Holo, Lawrence was not the type to break from Elsa's gaze if the situation did not suit him. He stared back at her, then gave a slight smile. "This town has its own history. This isn't something an outsider can so easily fiddle with." He must have sensed the anger wafting from her—How dare you look me in the eye and spout sophistry—because he finally looked away. "...Which is why I think we should learn their history." He glanced over at Tanya and the girls before gazing up at the church's high ceiling. The women who then entered from outside brought them freshly baked bread. A delicious aroma filled the air; the women left the bread there, took some of the walnuts, then left. They had been baking bread since before sunup all to prepare for the festival the following day. While acorn bread was not something Elsa would willingly eat, she suspected bread with walnuts was rather nice. "Do you believe that the great serpent actually exists?" Lawrence's wife was a wolf. When Elsa asked him that, instead of his merchant's smile, he offered her a real one. "I actually want to rely on you because I think you'd be eager to help me out." Tereo's guardian spirit had, in fact, been a snake. "I serve the Church's god." "Right." Elsa was, of course, disappointed when he brushed her off with an emotionless response. Though he seemed like nothing more than a boneheaded sheep when he was with Holo, he was much more like a slippery merchant when she dealt with him one-on-one like this. "Miss Holo seems anxious that you're in such high spirits."

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

"What do you think of the tariffs?" she asked. "What do I think, hmm?" Lawrence gave her a very mercantile-like expression of feigned ignorance, then dropped his hammer on a walnut. They sat together in a corner of the church on the flagstone floor, splitting the walnuts Tanya had brought from her mountain as a souvenir. "As a matter of justice," she elaborated. "What do you mean?" The walnut shells, after being roasted to the point where they just barely cracked open, were easily split with the hammers. Lawrence picked out the inside of his walnut with delight, as though justice or truth itself had been hidden inside it. "Tariffs pay for road repairs, waterwheels, city governance, and the guards who keep order. But not every coin collected by those tariffs goes toward those things," she said. "Sometimes they also fill another's coffers. Like a botfly gorging itself on blood, right?" Elsa brought down her hammer, cracking a walnut. "This church does not need any more money. And cheaper lumber prices means that people can live in houses for less." "And winter is coming up soon. People will need to light their hearths." "And thus, justice." Lawrence was not a completely heartless merchant, but that did not mean he was completely altruistic, either. "I understand what you mean, Miss Elsa, but in the coming months without any farmwork, the villagers who dig up peat may want lumber prices to remain high." Just as it was the farmers' job to carry the lumber to the peat-diggers' villages, the lumber trade belonged to the affluent merchants. Once he brought up the line of thought that tariffs were on the people's side, then it was difficult to say which was which. "But did you not say that the tariffs here are too high?" Lawrence watched Tanya, who sat apart from them splitting walnuts with some of the other town girls, even as he did the same. The girls, seemingly bored of the task, were instead combing Tanya's fluffy hair, braiding it, and pulling it up as they pleased with giggles. "It is, yes. Unnaturally so." Elsa, who had lived in a small village and had worried a lot about the tax problem, considered taxes as something that made people suffer. Watching Lawrence work to preserve such high tariffs left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "Don't you think we should lower them, then?" Unlike Holo, Lawrence was not the type to break from Elsa's gaze if the situation did not suit him. He stared back at her, then gave a slight smile. "This town has its own history. This isn't something an outsider can so easily fiddle with." He must have sensed the anger wafting from her—How dare you look me in the eye and spout sophistry—because he finally looked away. "...Which is why I think we should learn their history." He glanced over at Tanya and the girls before gazing up at the church's high ceiling. The women who then entered from outside brought them freshly baked bread. A delicious aroma filled the air; the women left the bread there, took some of the walnuts, then left. They had been baking bread since before sunup all to prepare for the festival the following day. While acorn bread was not something Elsa would willingly eat, she suspected bread with walnuts was rather nice. "Do you believe that the great serpent actually exists?" Lawrence's wife was a wolf. When Elsa asked him that, instead of his merchant's smile, he offered her a real one. "I actually want to rely on you because I think you'd be eager to help me out." Tereo's guardian spirit had, in fact, been a snake. "I serve the Church's god." "Right." Elsa was, of course, disappointed when he brushed her off with an emotionless response. Though he seemed like nothing more than a boneheaded sheep when he was with Holo, he was much more like a slippery merchant when she dealt with him one-on-one like this. "Miss Holo seems anxious that you're in such high spirits."

Elsa could not tell either way through his merchant's demeanor, but at the very least, he could not deny what she said. "I...can't deny that I'm in high spirits, no. This is a reward beyond my wildest dreams, you see." He did not sound as though he was lying, and that frankly shocked Elsa. "I did not know you wanted such things, too." She could hardly picture him taking up the mantle of landlord, but Lawrence himself gave a bashful smile. "I think you will find this silly, too, Miss Elsa." "...How so?" Lawrence cracked the walnut and picked out the insides. "The Voragine family privileges come with considerable influence over land. That is what I'm after, if anything." "...I don't understand." Elsa could tell that he was not deliberately trying to obfuscate what he was saying, and that it was simply difficult to explain, but she still could not imagine what he meant. As she sat thinking, Lawrence continued, as though trying to divert the topic. "Well, it's an overly optimistic calculation at this point, but you know what they say—the goddess of luck only has bangs." "You must take the opportunity that presents itself?" "Yes." Lawrence tossed the walnut shell into the waste sack and wiped his hands. As Elsa watched him, she could not help but ask, "But you said you are relying on me. Do you think I have special eyes that can see great serpents?" Lawrence flashed a self-deprecating smile in response. "Holo is very cranky. That's why I need your help to get things moving, Miss Elsa." "Hmm?" For a moment, Elsa did not know what Lawrence meant. Yet she noticed Lawrence's mischievous attitude, and finally understood what he was trying to tell her. "If I am to help you, then does that mean Miss Holo must come along as well?" "Wolves are very picky about territory, you see." She could not believe this man. He was desperate to show off to Holo, yet he was anxious that if he were to pursue the topic any further, she would get genuinely angry with him. Yet the only reason he could not bear to give up on his chase was not because he wanted to make a name for himself, but because he wanted to please his beloved wife. As a member of the clergy, part of whose job was to preach love, she found it difficult to admonish him. "You two have not changed one bit." They were never direct; always thinking of each other in a roundabout way. "I will take that as a compliment." The way Lawrence said that brought a smile to Elsa's face as she brought down her hammer on the walnut with even more force. Preparations for the festival must have ended in the morning as Holo came to the church a little after noon. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, likely because she had been treated to alcohol, but the reason her eyes seemed glassy was more likely that there had been trouble between her and Lawrence the night before. Lawrence, who had tempered his merchant's audacity, easily pretended not to notice something was wrong with his wife and asked Elsa if she would be willing to accompany them to look into the legend of the serpent. He made an exaggerated glance at Elsa and gave her a slight wink; Elsa emitted a sigh and agreed. Holo insisted she would go along as well, as though not wanting her own prey to be snatched away from her. Holo knew she was being roped into something. In Elsa's eyes, their interaction was a clash of wily expectations, a childish stubbornness that used absolute faith in each other as a shield, and there was nothing noble about it. And so, Elsa had been roped into their playful back-and-forth, yet she agreed to go along with it all because she felt responsible for being witness to their love. Tanya came along, too, and they all hopped on a cart to the old Voragine territory in the Salonia area. "It would make things much easier if they had the skull of the great serpent on display," Lawrence said, reins in hand.

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

Elsa could not tell either way through his merchant's demeanor, but at the very least, he could not deny what she said. "I...can't deny that I'm in high spirits, no. This is a reward beyond my wildest dreams, you see." He did not sound as though he was lying, and that frankly shocked Elsa. "I did not know you wanted such things, too." She could hardly picture him taking up the mantle of landlord, but Lawrence himself gave a bashful smile. "I think you will find this silly, too, Miss Elsa." "...How so?" Lawrence cracked the walnut and picked out the insides. "The Voragine family privileges come with considerable influence over land. That is what I'm after, if anything." "...I don't understand." Elsa could tell that he was not deliberately trying to obfuscate what he was saying, and that it was simply difficult to explain, but she still could not imagine what he meant. As she sat thinking, Lawrence continued, as though trying to divert the topic. "Well, it's an overly optimistic calculation at this point, but you know what they say—the goddess of luck only has bangs." "You must take the opportunity that presents itself?" "Yes." Lawrence tossed the walnut shell into the waste sack and wiped his hands. As Elsa watched him, she could not help but ask, "But you said you are relying on me. Do you think I have special eyes that can see great serpents?" Lawrence flashed a self-deprecating smile in response. "Holo is very cranky. That's why I need your help to get things moving, Miss Elsa." "Hmm?" For a moment, Elsa did not know what Lawrence meant. Yet she noticed Lawrence's mischievous attitude, and finally understood what he was trying to tell her. "If I am to help you, then does that mean Miss Holo must come along as well?" "Wolves are very picky about territory, you see." She could not believe this man. He was desperate to show off to Holo, yet he was anxious that if he were to pursue the topic any further, she would get genuinely angry with him. Yet the only reason he could not bear to give up on his chase was not because he wanted to make a name for himself, but because he wanted to please his beloved wife. As a member of the clergy, part of whose job was to preach love, she found it difficult to admonish him. "You two have not changed one bit." They were never direct; always thinking of each other in a roundabout way. "I will take that as a compliment." The way Lawrence said that brought a smile to Elsa's face as she brought down her hammer on the walnut with even more force. Preparations for the festival must have ended in the morning as Holo came to the church a little after noon. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, likely because she had been treated to alcohol, but the reason her eyes seemed glassy was more likely that there had been trouble between her and Lawrence the night before. Lawrence, who had tempered his merchant's audacity, easily pretended not to notice something was wrong with his wife and asked Elsa if she would be willing to accompany them to look into the legend of the serpent. He made an exaggerated glance at Elsa and gave her a slight wink; Elsa emitted a sigh and agreed. Holo insisted she would go along as well, as though not wanting her own prey to be snatched away from her. Holo knew she was being roped into something. In Elsa's eyes, their interaction was a clash of wily expectations, a childish stubbornness that used absolute faith in each other as a shield, and there was nothing noble about it. And so, Elsa had been roped into their playful back-and-forth, yet she agreed to go along with it all because she felt responsible for being witness to their love. Tanya came along, too, and they all hopped on a cart to the old Voragine territory in the Salonia area. "It would make things much easier if they had the skull of the great serpent on display," Lawrence said, reins in hand.

"I read over the annals again," Elsa interjected from her spot in the cart bed with Tanya, saying, "and the way it was written could be interpreted that it was chased away, not so much killed." It would be much more effective for the Church if they simply announced outright that they had killed it. Even if it had just been chased away. But one could also look at it with a cynical eye and say that the true reason was because if such a claim spread far and wide, then people would begin to clamor for proof. "Did it not escape to the mountain you live on?" Holo glanced back at Tanya. The squirrel avatar, who had been playing with the braids the village girls had woven into her hair, sat up straight in surprise. "N-no. I would have known if a large snake lived nearby." The mountain in the Vallan Bishopric at the time had been rendered completely bare due to the mining operations, so everyone doubtlessly had a very good view of the area. "Can such a beast be vanquished with human spears and swords anyway?" Holo mused. If it was indeed a giant snake, then its scales must have been as hard as steel. It was hard to imagine that anything could have cut or pierced them. Elsa pictured the script written in the annals, translated it into vernacular in her head, and said, "'The Hero Voragine brandished his blade and plunged it into the snake's neck. The snake raised its great head and gave a final cry. The plains of Salonia have known peace ever since...'" Once she was finished with her little story, Holo scoffed. "Perhaps it awoke from a nap because there was a tickle on its neck, and it simply yawned." Elsa could easily imagine the same. "If the snake had any ill will to begin with, Salonia would have been in grave danger. Nothing in the annals mentioned any damage to the city." "There were likely horses and sheep tastier than humans here, and it was unlikely it missed a town in an area with such good visibility." "There are many stories of pagan snake gods who adore alcohol in particular." The priest who raised Elsa had been in the habit of collecting stories on the pagan gods. Elsa had collected similar stories of her own when she left home to travel and mentioned it as she flipped through her memory. "Then does that mean 'tis not a made-up story?" Holo knew that the bishop had carefully calculated this entire situation, so she was hesitant to allow her husband to get too deeply involved with it, which of course meant she was likely hoping that the story of the serpent was but a tall tale. She turned a pointed gaze on Lawrence, but he only shrugged. "A regular old warrior became a landowning noble overnight, and even gained the right to levy tariffs in a town that was still developing. It shouldn't be all that shallow. I think taking down a serpent of that caliber would certainly earn a reward that great, and conversely, I can't think of anything else that would explain what happened here." Elsa nodded to herself in agreement. Lawrence was not simply elated by a prospect too good to be true; he was carefully evaluating what he had seen and heard, so that perhaps he could find the treasure if he chipped away at it. But that was precisely why Elsa thought it strange. Did Lawrence genuinely believe that the great serpent existed? Considering his partner was a legendary wolf spirit, it was not odd to think that he would be more likely to believe in the possibility than most. On the flip side, however, that meant he was trying to obtain privileges that came about all because this great serpent, one of the old pagan gods, had been killed. Elsa thought him a bit insensitive as someone who made a wolf spirit his wife, given that she was not all that different from the serpent. One could claim that wolves and snakes were not very similar, but there was something that did not sit right with her.

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

"I read over the annals again," Elsa interjected from her spot in the cart bed with Tanya, saying, "and the way it was written could be interpreted that it was chased away, not so much killed." It would be much more effective for the Church if they simply announced outright that they had killed it. Even if it had just been chased away. But one could also look at it with a cynical eye and say that the true reason was because if such a claim spread far and wide, then people would begin to clamor for proof. "Did it not escape to the mountain you live on?" Holo glanced back at Tanya. The squirrel avatar, who had been playing with the braids the village girls had woven into her hair, sat up straight in surprise. "N-no. I would have known if a large snake lived nearby." The mountain in the Vallan Bishopric at the time had been rendered completely bare due to the mining operations, so everyone doubtlessly had a very good view of the area. "Can such a beast be vanquished with human spears and swords anyway?" Holo mused. If it was indeed a giant snake, then its scales must have been as hard as steel. It was hard to imagine that anything could have cut or pierced them. Elsa pictured the script written in the annals, translated it into vernacular in her head, and said, "'The Hero Voragine brandished his blade and plunged it into the snake's neck. The snake raised its great head and gave a final cry. The plains of Salonia have known peace ever since...'" Once she was finished with her little story, Holo scoffed. "Perhaps it awoke from a nap because there was a tickle on its neck, and it simply yawned." Elsa could easily imagine the same. "If the snake had any ill will to begin with, Salonia would have been in grave danger. Nothing in the annals mentioned any damage to the city." "There were likely horses and sheep tastier than humans here, and it was unlikely it missed a town in an area with such good visibility." "There are many stories of pagan snake gods who adore alcohol in particular." The priest who raised Elsa had been in the habit of collecting stories on the pagan gods. Elsa had collected similar stories of her own when she left home to travel and mentioned it as she flipped through her memory. "Then does that mean 'tis not a made-up story?" Holo knew that the bishop had carefully calculated this entire situation, so she was hesitant to allow her husband to get too deeply involved with it, which of course meant she was likely hoping that the story of the serpent was but a tall tale. She turned a pointed gaze on Lawrence, but he only shrugged. "A regular old warrior became a landowning noble overnight, and even gained the right to levy tariffs in a town that was still developing. It shouldn't be all that shallow. I think taking down a serpent of that caliber would certainly earn a reward that great, and conversely, I can't think of anything else that would explain what happened here." Elsa nodded to herself in agreement. Lawrence was not simply elated by a prospect too good to be true; he was carefully evaluating what he had seen and heard, so that perhaps he could find the treasure if he chipped away at it. But that was precisely why Elsa thought it strange. Did Lawrence genuinely believe that the great serpent existed? Considering his partner was a legendary wolf spirit, it was not odd to think that he would be more likely to believe in the possibility than most. On the flip side, however, that meant he was trying to obtain privileges that came about all because this great serpent, one of the old pagan gods, had been killed. Elsa thought him a bit insensitive as someone who made a wolf spirit his wife, given that she was not all that different from the serpent. One could claim that wolves and snakes were not very similar, but there was something that did not sit right with her.

"What is this?" Holo asked, surprised. Perhaps she had never seen something like this before. "A pontoon bridge," Lawrence explained. "Have you never been on one before?" There were no proper bridges over the river to the east of Salonia. Instead there were several boats that spanned the water, wooden planks laid on top to connect one side to the other. "Are we to cross here? There are boats beneath it! Why do they not build a bridge?!" "I believe it's because the water levels change drastically across the seasons, such as when the snow melts," Elsa explained. "This is a far better idea than building a bridge." Building a bridge that can withstand any water level took a considerable amount of time and money. With the constant threat of it being swept away due to seasonal changes, it made much more sense to build a pontoon bridge, which could be easily set up and dismantled. Elsa's own village had an unbelievable number of arguments over rebuilding the smallest bridges, too. Those thoughts crossed Elsa's mind as she directed her gaze upstream, where she spotted a waterwheel attached to a boat in very much the same manner. Even if the water levels changed, the waterwheel on the ship could maintain the same distance from the water's surface, which made it more reliable. To a region that relied on threshed and milled wheat, a reliable waterwheel was a matter of life and death. "Humans come up with the strangest things..." Though despite this being a pontoon bridge, it had a lot of traffic, so it was much wider and preferrable to a wooden bridge over a small stream that seemed on the verge of collapse. Merchants and villagers were presently crossing the very same pontoon bridge with full carts and no fear whatsoever. But it was still over boats. The faint wobble of the water was likely a shock to the wolf within Holo. Tanya the squirrel, who could easily clamber across trees, was more excited about crossing the river, and after Lawrence paid the crossing fare and glanced back at them, she took the initiative to walk ahead. "We should go as well," Elsa said to Holo before adding, "I hope your steps are not unsteady from drinking." "Fool!" The wisewolf gingerly took a step forward, slowly walking down the middle of the pontoon bridge. The river was rather wide, and plenty of other ships were coming and going. But with the pontoon bridge blocking the way, that meant a canal had to be built beyond the sandbank where the bridge ended so that the ships could freely come and go. "This is a nice river port." "I've heard that this is where tariffs are collected for goods going downstream." Lawrence, who had crossed the bridge slightly later than the rest, finally caught up and told them what he'd learned. "And when there's a lot of snowmelt right before spring, they completely dismantle the bridge and send a lot of lumber downstream. It's apparently a safe place, so you don't get swept away by the lumber or the turbulent water." "And so, no bridges." It was not realistic for humans to carry heavy items like logs. The reason most large cities were by the river was because it was easier to bring in construction materials that way. And when bundles of massive logs, big enough for multiple people to ride on at once, came constantly rushing down the river in snowmelt, even the sturdiest of bridges would have a difficult time surviving. They discussed this as they crossed the sandbanks, passed through a little hut where an official was stationed, then approached a small wooden bridge built over the canal. The river wall was fitted with a wooden frame, and small boats packed with grains were moored there. The opposite bank was lined with buildings—storehouses, taverns, and what looked like inns for sailors. There were also several stalls plotted alongside the road that stretched out onto the plain, and delicious-smelling smoke wafted their way.

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

"What is this?" Holo asked, surprised. Perhaps she had never seen something like this before. "A pontoon bridge," Lawrence explained. "Have you never been on one before?" There were no proper bridges over the river to the east of Salonia. Instead there were several boats that spanned the water, wooden planks laid on top to connect one side to the other. "Are we to cross here? There are boats beneath it! Why do they not build a bridge?!" "I believe it's because the water levels change drastically across the seasons, such as when the snow melts," Elsa explained. "This is a far better idea than building a bridge." Building a bridge that can withstand any water level took a considerable amount of time and money. With the constant threat of it being swept away due to seasonal changes, it made much more sense to build a pontoon bridge, which could be easily set up and dismantled. Elsa's own village had an unbelievable number of arguments over rebuilding the smallest bridges, too. Those thoughts crossed Elsa's mind as she directed her gaze upstream, where she spotted a waterwheel attached to a boat in very much the same manner. Even if the water levels changed, the waterwheel on the ship could maintain the same distance from the water's surface, which made it more reliable. To a region that relied on threshed and milled wheat, a reliable waterwheel was a matter of life and death. "Humans come up with the strangest things..." Though despite this being a pontoon bridge, it had a lot of traffic, so it was much wider and preferrable to a wooden bridge over a small stream that seemed on the verge of collapse. Merchants and villagers were presently crossing the very same pontoon bridge with full carts and no fear whatsoever. But it was still over boats. The faint wobble of the water was likely a shock to the wolf within Holo. Tanya the squirrel, who could easily clamber across trees, was more excited about crossing the river, and after Lawrence paid the crossing fare and glanced back at them, she took the initiative to walk ahead. "We should go as well," Elsa said to Holo before adding, "I hope your steps are not unsteady from drinking." "Fool!" The wisewolf gingerly took a step forward, slowly walking down the middle of the pontoon bridge. The river was rather wide, and plenty of other ships were coming and going. But with the pontoon bridge blocking the way, that meant a canal had to be built beyond the sandbank where the bridge ended so that the ships could freely come and go. "This is a nice river port." "I've heard that this is where tariffs are collected for goods going downstream." Lawrence, who had crossed the bridge slightly later than the rest, finally caught up and told them what he'd learned. "And when there's a lot of snowmelt right before spring, they completely dismantle the bridge and send a lot of lumber downstream. It's apparently a safe place, so you don't get swept away by the lumber or the turbulent water." "And so, no bridges." It was not realistic for humans to carry heavy items like logs. The reason most large cities were by the river was because it was easier to bring in construction materials that way. And when bundles of massive logs, big enough for multiple people to ride on at once, came constantly rushing down the river in snowmelt, even the sturdiest of bridges would have a difficult time surviving. They discussed this as they crossed the sandbanks, passed through a little hut where an official was stationed, then approached a small wooden bridge built over the canal. The river wall was fitted with a wooden frame, and small boats packed with grains were moored there. The opposite bank was lined with buildings—storehouses, taverns, and what looked like inns for sailors. There were also several stalls plotted alongside the road that stretched out onto the plain, and delicious-smelling smoke wafted their way.

Lawrence gave a defeated smile, and his gaze met Elsa's, who offered a small smile in return. She helped Tanya up onto the cart bed as she struggled, and quickly followed suit. "There are no trees here. It's so sad," Tanya suddenly remarked as they left the lively river bank. "The fields are like sheared sheep at the end of the harvest." The area around Salonia served as the city's breadbasket, with fields extending in every direction as far as the eye could see. The shrubs that divided the fields and lessened the severity of the wind that blew over them were scattered throughout, but that only made the scenery seem all the emptier. Sacks of wheat that filled the ships on the river and the town's markets all came from these massive fields. "I do not dislike the sight," Holo said as she sat on the driver's perch, a sleepy look crossing her face. It was in the middle of the harvest for these fields; there were girls with long, braided hair who were hacking away at the wheat with large scythes. Holo gazed upon the villages, delighting in their harvest with a kind eye. As they proceeded forth along the gentle, unchanging road, Tanya started nodding off, and Elsa started to stifle her yawns. Lawrence reached out to Holo, who had fallen asleep against him, and said, "Look, we can see it now." His statement drew Elsa's gaze toward the front of the cart. And she could faintly make out a building sitting atop a small hill far ahead of them. "That's the old Voragine castle. I heard they use it to store grain and as an assembly hall now, though." "Yaaawn... Hff." Holo huffed—either because her nap had been interrupted, or because the topic itself displeased her—but Lawrence did not flinch. "It seems to be a lovely stone building." It even had a tower, which suggested that it may have even served as a fort in its heyday. "I highly doubt that entire hill will serve as the snake's grave." Things would go much quicker if the serpent was still sleeping there, and Elsa even considered asking it where Tereo's guardian might have gone if it were. "...You could take it down, couldn't you, Lady Holo?" Tanya sat huddled in her spot with great anxiety, but Holo gave a dauntless smile. "Even if we cannot win, we simply need to run whilst it feasts on this foolish sheep." Said foolish sheep guiding the horses drew his lips tight in a dry smile as he pressed them forward. The wheat in this area had yet to be reaped; great, mature ears of the crop danced in the wind. With a quiet, fond look, Holo gazed out over the waves of gold from atop her perch, and Elsa saw the kindness in Lawrence's eyes as he stole a look at her. She needed nothing else to understand. When she had asked him in the church as they split walnuts why he was so intent on pursuing this opportunity, Lawrence had faltered in his explanation. He had looked so bashful when he did. After a long series of twists and turns, the couple sitting on the driver's perch had made a home for themselves far to the north and opened a bathhouse. To Elsa, who had been born and raised in the plains, the place was so absurdly remote that she did not even think that "deep in the mountains" was an appropriate descriptor for the location. While Holo had originally lived in a similar mountainous region, she had one day headed south on a journey south and found herself in a village where she governed the wheat harvest for centuries—a place that had wheat fields for as far as the eye could see, completely unlike the looming mountains of Nyohhira. However, Elsa was convinced that Lawrence did not have the slightest intention of selling the bathhouse in Nyohhira, which Holo had been afraid of. That was because this man was not unlike a gentleman in waiting who made every effort to make sure his princess was in the best of moods at a booze-filled get-together. And now he was trying to feed her sweet, sweet dessert after serving her fill of salty food. "We're here," he said.

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

Lawrence gave a defeated smile, and his gaze met Elsa's, who offered a small smile in return. She helped Tanya up onto the cart bed as she struggled, and quickly followed suit. "There are no trees here. It's so sad," Tanya suddenly remarked as they left the lively river bank. "The fields are like sheared sheep at the end of the harvest." The area around Salonia served as the city's breadbasket, with fields extending in every direction as far as the eye could see. The shrubs that divided the fields and lessened the severity of the wind that blew over them were scattered throughout, but that only made the scenery seem all the emptier. Sacks of wheat that filled the ships on the river and the town's markets all came from these massive fields. "I do not dislike the sight," Holo said as she sat on the driver's perch, a sleepy look crossing her face. It was in the middle of the harvest for these fields; there were girls with long, braided hair who were hacking away at the wheat with large scythes. Holo gazed upon the villages, delighting in their harvest with a kind eye. As they proceeded forth along the gentle, unchanging road, Tanya started nodding off, and Elsa started to stifle her yawns. Lawrence reached out to Holo, who had fallen asleep against him, and said, "Look, we can see it now." His statement drew Elsa's gaze toward the front of the cart. And she could faintly make out a building sitting atop a small hill far ahead of them. "That's the old Voragine castle. I heard they use it to store grain and as an assembly hall now, though." "Yaaawn... Hff." Holo huffed—either because her nap had been interrupted, or because the topic itself displeased her—but Lawrence did not flinch. "It seems to be a lovely stone building." It even had a tower, which suggested that it may have even served as a fort in its heyday. "I highly doubt that entire hill will serve as the snake's grave." Things would go much quicker if the serpent was still sleeping there, and Elsa even considered asking it where Tereo's guardian might have gone if it were. "...You could take it down, couldn't you, Lady Holo?" Tanya sat huddled in her spot with great anxiety, but Holo gave a dauntless smile. "Even if we cannot win, we simply need to run whilst it feasts on this foolish sheep." Said foolish sheep guiding the horses drew his lips tight in a dry smile as he pressed them forward. The wheat in this area had yet to be reaped; great, mature ears of the crop danced in the wind. With a quiet, fond look, Holo gazed out over the waves of gold from atop her perch, and Elsa saw the kindness in Lawrence's eyes as he stole a look at her. She needed nothing else to understand. When she had asked him in the church as they split walnuts why he was so intent on pursuing this opportunity, Lawrence had faltered in his explanation. He had looked so bashful when he did. After a long series of twists and turns, the couple sitting on the driver's perch had made a home for themselves far to the north and opened a bathhouse. To Elsa, who had been born and raised in the plains, the place was so absurdly remote that she did not even think that "deep in the mountains" was an appropriate descriptor for the location. While Holo had originally lived in a similar mountainous region, she had one day headed south on a journey south and found herself in a village where she governed the wheat harvest for centuries—a place that had wheat fields for as far as the eye could see, completely unlike the looming mountains of Nyohhira. However, Elsa was convinced that Lawrence did not have the slightest intention of selling the bathhouse in Nyohhira, which Holo had been afraid of. That was because this man was not unlike a gentleman in waiting who made every effort to make sure his princess was in the best of moods at a booze-filled get-together. And now he was trying to feed her sweet, sweet dessert after serving her fill of salty food. "We're here," he said.

There was no way for Elsa to know. But Holo leaped lightly from the driver's perch, took in a lungful of the wheat's sweet scent, and her thick-haired tail rustled beneath her clothes. They could not see Salonia from atop the small hill. Perhaps it would be visible from atop the tower, but one would pay no mind to it in daily life. Living here, in a vantage point that gave clear view across one's entire realm, could certainly offer a taste of what it was like to rule. "Oh? Miss Elsa?" After knocking on the old Voragine gates, out came a familiar face—one of the assistant priests from Salonia's church. Though Elsa was technically a priest with no qualifiers in any manner, her position was still temporary, which meant that even the assistant priests in a church as big as Salonia's technically ranked above her in status. He had a mustache growing on his upper lip to give himself a more dignified, older appearance because he was hoping to climb the Church's ladder. This assistant priest, who would most certainly look very young without the notable facial hair, was surprised by their visit, yet welcomed them with open arms. "Ah-ha, so you're mediating the tariff dispute." The old Voragine castle looked like a giant stone box from far away, but after passing through the gates, they found a wide garden and the building itself set rather far back. There was an open wooden gazebo on the garden grounds, likely serving as a place for threshing wheat or storing it at the end of a harvest. There was a quiet air about it, and no signs that anyone used this estate as their regular home. As they cut across the garden, giving their reasons for visiting, the assistant priest gave an astonished laugh. "Well, that certainly sounds like something the bishop would come up with. Managing the fields and the hamlets is hard work. He must think he can push all of those responsibilities onto someone else." Though the facade was made of stone, the inside of the first floor of the main house was made of packed dirt and was filled with the familiar scent of dust. The main hall, where the lord would have situated himself, was now filled with a jumbled mix of bales of hay and farming tools; a thin dog, either belonging to the estate or simply a stray that had found its way inside, wandered about, gazed up at Holo with servile eyes. The assistant priest guided them to a long table by the hearth and poured them all wine, which had been warmed too much after being left by the fire and had lost all its alcoholic content. "Does wheat not turn much of a profit?" The bishop seemed to mainly want to preserve the income that came from levying tariffs, and whatever other profits the fief generated would go straight into Lawrence's pocket. That meant the bishop had placed all the troubles that came with managing the land as well as the danger that tariff income would fall in the coming years on the scales, and ultimately decided that simply keeping the tariff income alone was the most beneficial move for him. "I would say so. It's not a problem during years like this, when the harvest is good, but unfortunately, it comes in waves." "Still, it isn't as though you can adjust wasted everyday expenses." One of the responsibilities Elsa had been saddled with was to manage the Salonia church's ledgers. She had fought with numbers that could only be described as irresponsible, sloppy, incoherent—so when she interjected sharply, a grimace crossed the assistant priest's face. "Precisely. Our expenses are the same as every year, yet it is relatively often that our income drops drastically, and it causes much confusion. Like three years ago—there was a fungal outbreak." Elsa noticed that as Holo sipped her wine—which was decidedly not very good—her ears twitched under her kerchief, and she turned her gaze toward the assistant priest.

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

There was no way for Elsa to know. But Holo leaped lightly from the driver's perch, took in a lungful of the wheat's sweet scent, and her thick-haired tail rustled beneath her clothes. They could not see Salonia from atop the small hill. Perhaps it would be visible from atop the tower, but one would pay no mind to it in daily life. Living here, in a vantage point that gave clear view across one's entire realm, could certainly offer a taste of what it was like to rule. "Oh? Miss Elsa?" After knocking on the old Voragine gates, out came a familiar face—one of the assistant priests from Salonia's church. Though Elsa was technically a priest with no qualifiers in any manner, her position was still temporary, which meant that even the assistant priests in a church as big as Salonia's technically ranked above her in status. He had a mustache growing on his upper lip to give himself a more dignified, older appearance because he was hoping to climb the Church's ladder. This assistant priest, who would most certainly look very young without the notable facial hair, was surprised by their visit, yet welcomed them with open arms. "Ah-ha, so you're mediating the tariff dispute." The old Voragine castle looked like a giant stone box from far away, but after passing through the gates, they found a wide garden and the building itself set rather far back. There was an open wooden gazebo on the garden grounds, likely serving as a place for threshing wheat or storing it at the end of a harvest. There was a quiet air about it, and no signs that anyone used this estate as their regular home. As they cut across the garden, giving their reasons for visiting, the assistant priest gave an astonished laugh. "Well, that certainly sounds like something the bishop would come up with. Managing the fields and the hamlets is hard work. He must think he can push all of those responsibilities onto someone else." Though the facade was made of stone, the inside of the first floor of the main house was made of packed dirt and was filled with the familiar scent of dust. The main hall, where the lord would have situated himself, was now filled with a jumbled mix of bales of hay and farming tools; a thin dog, either belonging to the estate or simply a stray that had found its way inside, wandered about, gazed up at Holo with servile eyes. The assistant priest guided them to a long table by the hearth and poured them all wine, which had been warmed too much after being left by the fire and had lost all its alcoholic content. "Does wheat not turn much of a profit?" The bishop seemed to mainly want to preserve the income that came from levying tariffs, and whatever other profits the fief generated would go straight into Lawrence's pocket. That meant the bishop had placed all the troubles that came with managing the land as well as the danger that tariff income would fall in the coming years on the scales, and ultimately decided that simply keeping the tariff income alone was the most beneficial move for him. "I would say so. It's not a problem during years like this, when the harvest is good, but unfortunately, it comes in waves." "Still, it isn't as though you can adjust wasted everyday expenses." One of the responsibilities Elsa had been saddled with was to manage the Salonia church's ledgers. She had fought with numbers that could only be described as irresponsible, sloppy, incoherent—so when she interjected sharply, a grimace crossed the assistant priest's face. "Precisely. Our expenses are the same as every year, yet it is relatively often that our income drops drastically, and it causes much confusion. Like three years ago—there was a fungal outbreak." Elsa noticed that as Holo sipped her wine—which was decidedly not very good—her ears twitched under her kerchief, and she turned her gaze toward the assistant priest.

Once even a small portion of the field started showing signs of disease, the entire field had to be put to the torch, and even the slightest rumor meant the land's entire harvest would sell poorly. "That must have been horrible." "Indeed, it was a trying time. Just remembering how the people swarmed us, asking for God's help brings pain to my heart." It was the clergy's job to help alleviate the people's suffering, yet there was little doubt that the bishop had saddled his assistants with all of that responsibility, and he was hoping to avoid similar problems that might arise in the future by doing the same. "And if not, then we were overwhelmed every day by other complications, such as maintaining the waterwheels for the mills, or land division. I suppose giving up the wheat income is a cheap price to pay if it means off-loading all of that onto someone else." The assistant priest laughed dryly; it was very likely he had been sent here by the bishop for the exact same reasons. Even the most pastoral-looking farming villages were not so perfect on the inside. "But in that case, there is still one question among all the nice things the tariff rights have to offer," Lawrence spoke, and everyone turned to look at him. "How did House Voragine end up with these tariff rights?" The assistant priest sighed, his whiskers shuddering under his breath, and he shrugged. "The bishop summoned you because the lumber merchants were pressing him for answers on the same matter, didn't he?" The Hero Voragine was said to have fought with a great serpent right in this area many years ago, after it had brought chaos to the region. "Is the story of the great serpent being vanquished true?" Lawrence asked, feigning ignorance. The assistant priest frowned, then said stiffly, "You must know of God." Though he might not personally believe it to be real, if he mentioned that aloud, then the tariffs the church collected under the Voragine name would turn out to be a scam. He was not in a position to say precisely what he believed, so just as a clergyman from a big city would often do, he deftly avoided answering the question. "Is there anything here that could still serve as proof?" Elsa asked. The assistant priest immediately gave a shake of the head. It did not seem any great serpent skulls were left conveniently lying about. "Would you mind if we took a look around the castle and the surrounding area?" Lawrence asked. The assistant priest blinked, but could not think of any reason to say no. "Not at all. All documents regarding the territory rights and privileges have been moved to the Salonia church for safekeeping, but more complex records from the past should still be in the cellar. Ah, yes. Village mayors, other important individuals, and traveling merchants will be gathering here later. We will be talking about reaping and transporting the wheat, so it might be a nice opportunity to listen to what the locals have to say." If Lawrence were to own this land, then this assistant priest would have no need to come all this way and mind the wheat, and he would undoubtedly start a longstanding relationship with the Salonia church. The assistant priest had made a sound judgment—if he were to assist Lawrence now and have Lawrence in his debt, then it would surely be an asset for when he climbed up the Church ladder in the future. That was the first natural thought that came to Elsa's mind; when she realized that, she gave a quick shake of her head. Ever since leaving Tereo, she had taken on a much shrewder perspective of the clergy. It was not uncommon for someone who was once honest and docile while living within their remote village to become much more distrustful and suspicious after returning from the city. To make matters worse, that scared her; she rubbed her face with both hands and let out a tired sigh. As the conversation entered a natural lull, the assistant priest stood up.

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

Once even a small portion of the field started showing signs of disease, the entire field had to be put to the torch, and even the slightest rumor meant the land's entire harvest would sell poorly. "That must have been horrible." "Indeed, it was a trying time. Just remembering how the people swarmed us, asking for God's help brings pain to my heart." It was the clergy's job to help alleviate the people's suffering, yet there was little doubt that the bishop had saddled his assistants with all of that responsibility, and he was hoping to avoid similar problems that might arise in the future by doing the same. "And if not, then we were overwhelmed every day by other complications, such as maintaining the waterwheels for the mills, or land division. I suppose giving up the wheat income is a cheap price to pay if it means off-loading all of that onto someone else." The assistant priest laughed dryly; it was very likely he had been sent here by the bishop for the exact same reasons. Even the most pastoral-looking farming villages were not so perfect on the inside. "But in that case, there is still one question among all the nice things the tariff rights have to offer," Lawrence spoke, and everyone turned to look at him. "How did House Voragine end up with these tariff rights?" The assistant priest sighed, his whiskers shuddering under his breath, and he shrugged. "The bishop summoned you because the lumber merchants were pressing him for answers on the same matter, didn't he?" The Hero Voragine was said to have fought with a great serpent right in this area many years ago, after it had brought chaos to the region. "Is the story of the great serpent being vanquished true?" Lawrence asked, feigning ignorance. The assistant priest frowned, then said stiffly, "You must know of God." Though he might not personally believe it to be real, if he mentioned that aloud, then the tariffs the church collected under the Voragine name would turn out to be a scam. He was not in a position to say precisely what he believed, so just as a clergyman from a big city would often do, he deftly avoided answering the question. "Is there anything here that could still serve as proof?" Elsa asked. The assistant priest immediately gave a shake of the head. It did not seem any great serpent skulls were left conveniently lying about. "Would you mind if we took a look around the castle and the surrounding area?" Lawrence asked. The assistant priest blinked, but could not think of any reason to say no. "Not at all. All documents regarding the territory rights and privileges have been moved to the Salonia church for safekeeping, but more complex records from the past should still be in the cellar. Ah, yes. Village mayors, other important individuals, and traveling merchants will be gathering here later. We will be talking about reaping and transporting the wheat, so it might be a nice opportunity to listen to what the locals have to say." If Lawrence were to own this land, then this assistant priest would have no need to come all this way and mind the wheat, and he would undoubtedly start a longstanding relationship with the Salonia church. The assistant priest had made a sound judgment—if he were to assist Lawrence now and have Lawrence in his debt, then it would surely be an asset for when he climbed up the Church ladder in the future. That was the first natural thought that came to Elsa's mind; when she realized that, she gave a quick shake of her head. Ever since leaving Tereo, she had taken on a much shrewder perspective of the clergy. It was not uncommon for someone who was once honest and docile while living within their remote village to become much more distrustful and suspicious after returning from the city. To make matters worse, that scared her; she rubbed her face with both hands and let out a tired sigh. As the conversation entered a natural lull, the assistant priest stood up.

"Thank you." The assistant priest bowed and vanished into another room. "Well," Lawrence began, "I guess I'll go fight with the mold and the dust in the cellar." "Hmph," Holo snorted and looked away. She was not upset by the situation; she simply did not like dust. "She and I will look around to make sure the snake is not buried beneath us," Holo said while pointing meaningfully at Tanya. The squirrel stared blankly for a moment before nodding happily. "Then Miss Elsa, could you look around the building and keep an eye out for anything that might speak to its history?" It seemed obvious to Elsa that she would end up going into the cellar with Lawrence, but it was Lawrence himself who suggested this to her. Perhaps he did not want to subject her to the stench of mold and the layers of dust. Elsa was impressed by how considerate the merchant was when it came to these things. At the same time, that only brought her an endless list of questions—why such a considerate man looked a fool whenever he stood next to Holo, for example. "I hope to find something." She looked between the easygoing duo, and all she could do was let her shoulders fall. Holo took Tanya outside, and Lawrence rolled up his sleeves and ventured down the stairs. Elsa, not particularly enthused, began to take a look around the old fortress. History was typically recorded on parchment, but it was at times painted onto the walls of buildings. That was how it been done at the chapel in the Vallan Bishopric, and as indecipherable as it seemed, the truth had lay hidden in there somewhere. Or perhaps there was a hidden shrine somewhere that worshipped the great serpent—that would speed things along quite nicely. With those thoughts in mind, Elsa began to roam the building. All she found herself doing was confirming the existence of the vestiges of a familiar farming village life. There was no furniture since no one lived here; heaps of straw sat idly in the corners of unused rooms. Carved candelabras, placed sporadically across the walls, had sat unused for a very long time; they were blanketed thick with dust. The sights did not change very much as she moved up to the second and third floors. The only thing of note was the occasional large pot, much too big for family use; it had likely been used for festivals or other gatherings. When she pried open the wooden shutters on a window, all she found was the view of the stone wall that encircled the garden. It did not offer a very good view. Perhaps this place had once been subject to the fires of war if it served as a battlefield in the fight against the pagans. Elsa pictured the massive serpent slithering about, acting as though the battle between humans was none of its concern, and she chuckled. "Hero Voragine, did you truly vanquish the serpent?" Trade had stagnated because of the serpent. The building was firmly enclosed on all sides by stones and sharp angles, but if the serpent matched Holo's true size, then it could easily have destroyed the building by rubbing itself against the structure when it molted. According to Church records, the hero had brandished his sword and plunged it into the serpent's neck. Even if Hero Voragine was powerful enough to vanquish one of the pagan gods, Elsa knew, as someone who was familiar with a wolf known as the wisewolf, with a squirrel who tirelessly planted trees on a naked mountain, that there was more he could have done before stabbing it. After all, it wasn't as though they were beings who couldn't be reasoned with. She drew the window shut, and as she made her way down the stairs, an idea suddenly came to her. "Perhaps...they were the same as this wolf couple." When the possibility dawned on her, she found herself rather surprised. If the snake spirit and Hero Voragine reached an intimate understanding, then creating miracles was an easy ask. "I believe Mister Lawrence anticipated this."

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

"Thank you." The assistant priest bowed and vanished into another room. "Well," Lawrence began, "I guess I'll go fight with the mold and the dust in the cellar." "Hmph," Holo snorted and looked away. She was not upset by the situation; she simply did not like dust. "She and I will look around to make sure the snake is not buried beneath us," Holo said while pointing meaningfully at Tanya. The squirrel stared blankly for a moment before nodding happily. "Then Miss Elsa, could you look around the building and keep an eye out for anything that might speak to its history?" It seemed obvious to Elsa that she would end up going into the cellar with Lawrence, but it was Lawrence himself who suggested this to her. Perhaps he did not want to subject her to the stench of mold and the layers of dust. Elsa was impressed by how considerate the merchant was when it came to these things. At the same time, that only brought her an endless list of questions—why such a considerate man looked a fool whenever he stood next to Holo, for example. "I hope to find something." She looked between the easygoing duo, and all she could do was let her shoulders fall. Holo took Tanya outside, and Lawrence rolled up his sleeves and ventured down the stairs. Elsa, not particularly enthused, began to take a look around the old fortress. History was typically recorded on parchment, but it was at times painted onto the walls of buildings. That was how it been done at the chapel in the Vallan Bishopric, and as indecipherable as it seemed, the truth had lay hidden in there somewhere. Or perhaps there was a hidden shrine somewhere that worshipped the great serpent—that would speed things along quite nicely. With those thoughts in mind, Elsa began to roam the building. All she found herself doing was confirming the existence of the vestiges of a familiar farming village life. There was no furniture since no one lived here; heaps of straw sat idly in the corners of unused rooms. Carved candelabras, placed sporadically across the walls, had sat unused for a very long time; they were blanketed thick with dust. The sights did not change very much as she moved up to the second and third floors. The only thing of note was the occasional large pot, much too big for family use; it had likely been used for festivals or other gatherings. When she pried open the wooden shutters on a window, all she found was the view of the stone wall that encircled the garden. It did not offer a very good view. Perhaps this place had once been subject to the fires of war if it served as a battlefield in the fight against the pagans. Elsa pictured the massive serpent slithering about, acting as though the battle between humans was none of its concern, and she chuckled. "Hero Voragine, did you truly vanquish the serpent?" Trade had stagnated because of the serpent. The building was firmly enclosed on all sides by stones and sharp angles, but if the serpent matched Holo's true size, then it could easily have destroyed the building by rubbing itself against the structure when it molted. According to Church records, the hero had brandished his sword and plunged it into the serpent's neck. Even if Hero Voragine was powerful enough to vanquish one of the pagan gods, Elsa knew, as someone who was familiar with a wolf known as the wisewolf, with a squirrel who tirelessly planted trees on a naked mountain, that there was more he could have done before stabbing it. After all, it wasn't as though they were beings who couldn't be reasoned with. She drew the window shut, and as she made her way down the stairs, an idea suddenly came to her. "Perhaps...they were the same as this wolf couple." When the possibility dawned on her, she found herself rather surprised. If the snake spirit and Hero Voragine reached an intimate understanding, then creating miracles was an easy ask. "I believe Mister Lawrence anticipated this."

Coming up with the sort of situation that would lead to the highest probability of such a thing happening was not difficult. The great serpent and the Hero Voragine were either lovers or friends, and thus the myth of this land was born. "...I believe it's entirely possible we've heard a similar story in town before." The man only seemed a fool when he was with his beloved wife—in any other setting, he was quite sharp. And if the story of the Hero Voragine vanquishing the serpent was indeed a made-up one, then it made perfect sense why Lawrence would look into obtaining land privileges with a straight face. In fact, if he could show Holo that there were others like them, then it would be good news for the gloomy wolf. "But..." As Elsa exited into the garden she crossed her arms, walking beneath the sky as it took on the bright colors of sunset. "Mister Lawrence and the others confirming this fact and talking down the lumber merchants are two separate matters entirely. I wonder how he plans on approaching the regular townsfolk." The problem was that their realization of the truth would not be enough. They would have to tell the lumber merchants of the serpent myth, and then convince them that the tariffs were just. And if something easy to comprehend, like a skull, was a simple matter to obtain, then the bishop would have already placated the merchants on his own. That meant Lawrence would have to find some other decisive piece of evidence, but it was almost impossible to imagine what that could be, and the man himself showed no sign of knowing what it was, either. What could Lawrence be chasing? Or perhaps he had only convinced himself that he already had it? "He does not have Miss Holo helping him, so it's unlikely he's using any special methods." Elsa was the type of person who loved it when the logic involved was straightforward, when the lines of reasoning were perfectly straight, so she always found herself bothered when things were not perfectly and easily explainable. As she walked around, she kept her eyes fixed on her feet while her head swam in thought; and eventually, she found herself outside the fortress. Back in Tereo, whenever she looked up after doing that, she always found her husband with their children in tow, looking at her with a tired smile. But in the Salonia plains, far from her village, all she found was a lone girl, sitting by herself in the autumn grasses. Elsa approached Holo, recalling what it was like to hold a child's warm hand in her own. "How are the wheat fields here?" Holo did not even glance in Elsa's direction, though she stood right next to her, but her wolf ears, now out in the open due to the lack of people, flicked in response. "I believe Mister Lawrence wanted you to see this view." Stretching out endlessly before them was a sea of gold. Elsa, who had been born on the plains, loved places like this far more than the cramped mountains of Nyohhira. "Why not show him your appreciation?" she asked, and only refrained from adding, in an innocent manner, because she knew it might only sound contrary. "Fool," Holo said curtly, but there was no force in her words. Even the way her tail thumped against the grass was limp. As Elsa stood beside her in silence, Holo eventually gave a big sigh. "I am delighted he is trying to leave me things to remember him by," she said, resting her chin on her propped knee. She looked like a sulking child as she gazed out across the wheat fields. "But there are too many." For a moment, Elsa thought about how privileged she was to have such a problem, but she recalled what the assistant priest said. "Because it would be too much to handle them all, is that right?" "Indeed. What a fool he is." She dropped her knees and folded her legs under her. "Perhaps he thinks I can create a good crop of wheat with a single flick of my tail." "Can you not?" Elsa asked. Holo finally turned to look up at her with a glare. "Of course I can."

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

Coming up with the sort of situation that would lead to the highest probability of such a thing happening was not difficult. The great serpent and the Hero Voragine were either lovers or friends, and thus the myth of this land was born. "...I believe it's entirely possible we've heard a similar story in town before." The man only seemed a fool when he was with his beloved wife—in any other setting, he was quite sharp. And if the story of the Hero Voragine vanquishing the serpent was indeed a made-up one, then it made perfect sense why Lawrence would look into obtaining land privileges with a straight face. In fact, if he could show Holo that there were others like them, then it would be good news for the gloomy wolf. "But..." As Elsa exited into the garden she crossed her arms, walking beneath the sky as it took on the bright colors of sunset. "Mister Lawrence and the others confirming this fact and talking down the lumber merchants are two separate matters entirely. I wonder how he plans on approaching the regular townsfolk." The problem was that their realization of the truth would not be enough. They would have to tell the lumber merchants of the serpent myth, and then convince them that the tariffs were just. And if something easy to comprehend, like a skull, was a simple matter to obtain, then the bishop would have already placated the merchants on his own. That meant Lawrence would have to find some other decisive piece of evidence, but it was almost impossible to imagine what that could be, and the man himself showed no sign of knowing what it was, either. What could Lawrence be chasing? Or perhaps he had only convinced himself that he already had it? "He does not have Miss Holo helping him, so it's unlikely he's using any special methods." Elsa was the type of person who loved it when the logic involved was straightforward, when the lines of reasoning were perfectly straight, so she always found herself bothered when things were not perfectly and easily explainable. As she walked around, she kept her eyes fixed on her feet while her head swam in thought; and eventually, she found herself outside the fortress. Back in Tereo, whenever she looked up after doing that, she always found her husband with their children in tow, looking at her with a tired smile. But in the Salonia plains, far from her village, all she found was a lone girl, sitting by herself in the autumn grasses. Elsa approached Holo, recalling what it was like to hold a child's warm hand in her own. "How are the wheat fields here?" Holo did not even glance in Elsa's direction, though she stood right next to her, but her wolf ears, now out in the open due to the lack of people, flicked in response. "I believe Mister Lawrence wanted you to see this view." Stretching out endlessly before them was a sea of gold. Elsa, who had been born on the plains, loved places like this far more than the cramped mountains of Nyohhira. "Why not show him your appreciation?" she asked, and only refrained from adding, in an innocent manner, because she knew it might only sound contrary. "Fool," Holo said curtly, but there was no force in her words. Even the way her tail thumped against the grass was limp. As Elsa stood beside her in silence, Holo eventually gave a big sigh. "I am delighted he is trying to leave me things to remember him by," she said, resting her chin on her propped knee. She looked like a sulking child as she gazed out across the wheat fields. "But there are too many." For a moment, Elsa thought about how privileged she was to have such a problem, but she recalled what the assistant priest said. "Because it would be too much to handle them all, is that right?" "Indeed. What a fool he is." She dropped her knees and folded her legs under her. "Perhaps he thinks I can create a good crop of wheat with a single flick of my tail." "Can you not?" Elsa asked. Holo finally turned to look up at her with a glare. "Of course I can."

In the decades to come, this young girl would see to the harvest, and then return home to her fortress to find herself alone. A good harvest would not bring her companion back. While that was what Elsa was thinking, the words that actually came out of Holo's mouth were much more realistic than that. "The care for wheat does not stop at its harvest. Like how humans grow tired from running, the ground, too, grows tired from growing. The fertile earth runs from the soil after a heavy rain, and canals often break. Those things are out of my control. Droughts, especially. And I am absolutely powerless once the wheat has been harvested. I cannot handle everything—I cannot ensure that the wheat will be sold at a proper price. I cannot promise that I will not be taken advantage of by blackhearted merchants. Human society is complicated, and quite a bother altogether." The wisewolf understood that growing the wheat and managing a field were two entirely separate matters. "We cannot leave our bathhouse empty. I am loathe to admit that I am much like my unworthy daughter—complicated matters, such as running a bathhouse, are beyond me." People were calling their only daughter, Myuri, a saint, but it seemed that she was different from what the rumors said of her. What sort of girl was the daughter of Lawrence and Holo like? When Elsa tried to picture her, she caught herself smiling. Surely, she was a dazzling, carefree girl. And so, Elsa decided to speak her mind. "It's a wonderful thing to be worried about..." She could feel Holo's dubious gaze on her, but she looked out to the fields with a smile before finally turning to face her. "...Am I wrong?" Holo's hair, so close in color to the wheat that Elsa would surely lose sight of her if she waded through the fields, swayed in the wind as she pouted. "No," she sighed deeply. "'Tis like alcohol and a hangover." "All things in moderation." "Precisely!" she cried, throwing herself onto the ground. "'Tis painful to be loved too much." She showed no bashfulness nor any affectation—Elsa believed that she truly was loved too much. And that was what made her smile just by being close to them. "Would things not proceed more favorably if you left them in Miss Tanya's hands? No..." Elsa suggested, but quickly corrected herself. "She is much too kind. I doubt it would go over well." "Aye. She is most suited to deal with trees in the mountains. Look how nervous she is when she is in an open space." Holo sat up and jerked her chin in a direction; there was Tanya, taking small, uncertain steps, not unlike a lost child. When she realized Holo and Elsa were watching her, her face lit up and she waved to them with both hands. "I suppose that means the serpent is not here," Elsa said as she waved in return. "No. I doubt it is no different from the distant past." Tanya the squirrel rushed over to them and started shaking her head before either of the other two could ask. Holo praised her as she lent a hand to help the wolf stand. "What on earth could that fool be plotting?" They all knew that it would be very difficult for Lawrence to find any superhuman clues without Holo's eager help. And even if she did lend him a hand, it was unlikely the merchants could be convinced without hard evidence. And since Holo herself knew that well, she had come to the same question as Elsa—though the chances of the snake existing were slim, if it had indeed lived, then how were they going to prove such a thing? "We may learn something if we ask the locals." "Mm..." Holo placed her kerchief back over her head and hid her tail under her clothes. "The fool's fervor aside, 'tis a disgrace for the wisewolf not to see through his intentions." To Elsa, this sounded less like a competition and more like a grievance that she was unable to see the same sights as he did, even though she was right next to him.

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

In the decades to come, this young girl would see to the harvest, and then return home to her fortress to find herself alone. A good harvest would not bring her companion back. While that was what Elsa was thinking, the words that actually came out of Holo's mouth were much more realistic than that. "The care for wheat does not stop at its harvest. Like how humans grow tired from running, the ground, too, grows tired from growing. The fertile earth runs from the soil after a heavy rain, and canals often break. Those things are out of my control. Droughts, especially. And I am absolutely powerless once the wheat has been harvested. I cannot handle everything—I cannot ensure that the wheat will be sold at a proper price. I cannot promise that I will not be taken advantage of by blackhearted merchants. Human society is complicated, and quite a bother altogether." The wisewolf understood that growing the wheat and managing a field were two entirely separate matters. "We cannot leave our bathhouse empty. I am loathe to admit that I am much like my unworthy daughter—complicated matters, such as running a bathhouse, are beyond me." People were calling their only daughter, Myuri, a saint, but it seemed that she was different from what the rumors said of her. What sort of girl was the daughter of Lawrence and Holo like? When Elsa tried to picture her, she caught herself smiling. Surely, she was a dazzling, carefree girl. And so, Elsa decided to speak her mind. "It's a wonderful thing to be worried about..." She could feel Holo's dubious gaze on her, but she looked out to the fields with a smile before finally turning to face her. "...Am I wrong?" Holo's hair, so close in color to the wheat that Elsa would surely lose sight of her if she waded through the fields, swayed in the wind as she pouted. "No," she sighed deeply. "'Tis like alcohol and a hangover." "All things in moderation." "Precisely!" she cried, throwing herself onto the ground. "'Tis painful to be loved too much." She showed no bashfulness nor any affectation—Elsa believed that she truly was loved too much. And that was what made her smile just by being close to them. "Would things not proceed more favorably if you left them in Miss Tanya's hands? No..." Elsa suggested, but quickly corrected herself. "She is much too kind. I doubt it would go over well." "Aye. She is most suited to deal with trees in the mountains. Look how nervous she is when she is in an open space." Holo sat up and jerked her chin in a direction; there was Tanya, taking small, uncertain steps, not unlike a lost child. When she realized Holo and Elsa were watching her, her face lit up and she waved to them with both hands. "I suppose that means the serpent is not here," Elsa said as she waved in return. "No. I doubt it is no different from the distant past." Tanya the squirrel rushed over to them and started shaking her head before either of the other two could ask. Holo praised her as she lent a hand to help the wolf stand. "What on earth could that fool be plotting?" They all knew that it would be very difficult for Lawrence to find any superhuman clues without Holo's eager help. And even if she did lend him a hand, it was unlikely the merchants could be convinced without hard evidence. And since Holo herself knew that well, she had come to the same question as Elsa—though the chances of the snake existing were slim, if it had indeed lived, then how were they going to prove such a thing? "We may learn something if we ask the locals." "Mm..." Holo placed her kerchief back over her head and hid her tail under her clothes. "The fool's fervor aside, 'tis a disgrace for the wisewolf not to see through his intentions." To Elsa, this sounded less like a competition and more like a grievance that she was unable to see the same sights as he did, even though she was right next to him.

It was hard to imagine that the sharp Lawrence had not noticed such a thing, but in truth, they had fallen out of step with each other. Holo turned to Tanya to pick out the hay from her fluffy hair like a disgruntled sister. The amiable Tanya was simply happy to let her do so. As Elsa watched, she felt like she had been brought back to a time when she was a younger girl, when she first met Holo and Lawrence. Though it struck her as odd to think about it after all these years, she mused about how Holo had this odd aura about her that could create such an innocent atmosphere. Elsa gave a small sigh with a self-deprecating smile, and she, too, reached for Tanya's hair. She undid the messy braids the girls from the church had put in her hair and re-braided them in a much neater fashion. Holo was impressed by her skill, and Tanya stood there, delighted. As Elsa indulged in feeling like a young girl again, Holo suddenly lifted her head and stared into space. "Hmm?" Holo's eyes darted across the scenery, eventually settling on the fortress entrance. A frown immediately crossed her face. "Why that face...?" The spite in her tone was perhaps brought on by the sudden appearance of a boorish man among the three girls. Lawrence was waving at them, a piece of paper in his hand, and a terribly gleeful smile on his face. From the perspective of the one who decided to make him her life partner, all she saw was a boyish innocence that would force her to be the adult in the situation, and sigh with unease. Holo stood at the front with Elsa and Tanya behind her and they all made their way to Lawrence. The former merchant, who had often been called a foolish sheep, held a sheet of paper aloft with pride. "I found our evidence." *** Holo gave no response and instead snatched the paper from his hand. Both Tanya and Elsa peered over opposite shoulders to see that it was a rather old map. "What is this? Do you mean to say you found a map revealing where the snake went?" It was just an old map, and even if there was any writing to suggest the serpent had passed through any particular area, the only ones who would believe it were small children who enjoyed fantasy. Despite the doubtful looks of three women, he gave a bold nod without so much as a flinch. "I'm going to show you proof." "Hmm? D-dear, you—" Holo grew flustered because she stumbled as Lawrence grabbed her hand and pulled her away. She remained bewildered as he led her, glancing back at Elsa and Tanya. Holo looked just like a flustered girl who had been gossiping about someone she liked, only for the person in question to come along and suddenly drag her away. "...What should we do?" Tanya asked, lacing her fingers together in thought. The look on her face showed that she was not so much worried about Holo but was desperately curious to see what was going to happen. Elsa did not have any close female friends her age back in Tereo, so all she had was her imagination—and she believed that regular girls, in this situation, would follow after them. "Let's go." Tanya nodded with delight, and Elsa led the way. She, of course, was genuinely curious as to what it was that Lawrence discovered. In all honesty, however, she was more curious to know what sort of sentimental sight he was going to show Holo, considering the elation on his face as he dragged behind him the bewildered wisewolf. That, too, made her a lot like a young girl wanting to see her friend's romance play out. "O-oh, my. What should we do?" Tanya, who had been running like she was chasing acorns as they rolled down the mountainside, suddenly came to a stop, pressing her hand over her mouth as she spoke. "Is this their new den?" For a moment, Elsa did not understand what she meant, but she eventually recalled that Tanya was a squirrel. Lawrence had dragged Holo into the stone tower. Perhaps the tower looked like a nest to the avatar of a tree squirrel.

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

It was hard to imagine that the sharp Lawrence had not noticed such a thing, but in truth, they had fallen out of step with each other. Holo turned to Tanya to pick out the hay from her fluffy hair like a disgruntled sister. The amiable Tanya was simply happy to let her do so. As Elsa watched, she felt like she had been brought back to a time when she was a younger girl, when she first met Holo and Lawrence. Though it struck her as odd to think about it after all these years, she mused about how Holo had this odd aura about her that could create such an innocent atmosphere. Elsa gave a small sigh with a self-deprecating smile, and she, too, reached for Tanya's hair. She undid the messy braids the girls from the church had put in her hair and re-braided them in a much neater fashion. Holo was impressed by her skill, and Tanya stood there, delighted. As Elsa indulged in feeling like a young girl again, Holo suddenly lifted her head and stared into space. "Hmm?" Holo's eyes darted across the scenery, eventually settling on the fortress entrance. A frown immediately crossed her face. "Why that face...?" The spite in her tone was perhaps brought on by the sudden appearance of a boorish man among the three girls. Lawrence was waving at them, a piece of paper in his hand, and a terribly gleeful smile on his face. From the perspective of the one who decided to make him her life partner, all she saw was a boyish innocence that would force her to be the adult in the situation, and sigh with unease. Holo stood at the front with Elsa and Tanya behind her and they all made their way to Lawrence. The former merchant, who had often been called a foolish sheep, held a sheet of paper aloft with pride. "I found our evidence." *** Holo gave no response and instead snatched the paper from his hand. Both Tanya and Elsa peered over opposite shoulders to see that it was a rather old map. "What is this? Do you mean to say you found a map revealing where the snake went?" It was just an old map, and even if there was any writing to suggest the serpent had passed through any particular area, the only ones who would believe it were small children who enjoyed fantasy. Despite the doubtful looks of three women, he gave a bold nod without so much as a flinch. "I'm going to show you proof." "Hmm? D-dear, you—" Holo grew flustered because she stumbled as Lawrence grabbed her hand and pulled her away. She remained bewildered as he led her, glancing back at Elsa and Tanya. Holo looked just like a flustered girl who had been gossiping about someone she liked, only for the person in question to come along and suddenly drag her away. "...What should we do?" Tanya asked, lacing her fingers together in thought. The look on her face showed that she was not so much worried about Holo but was desperately curious to see what was going to happen. Elsa did not have any close female friends her age back in Tereo, so all she had was her imagination—and she believed that regular girls, in this situation, would follow after them. "Let's go." Tanya nodded with delight, and Elsa led the way. She, of course, was genuinely curious as to what it was that Lawrence discovered. In all honesty, however, she was more curious to know what sort of sentimental sight he was going to show Holo, considering the elation on his face as he dragged behind him the bewildered wisewolf. That, too, made her a lot like a young girl wanting to see her friend's romance play out. "O-oh, my. What should we do?" Tanya, who had been running like she was chasing acorns as they rolled down the mountainside, suddenly came to a stop, pressing her hand over her mouth as she spoke. "Is this their new den?" For a moment, Elsa did not understand what she meant, but she eventually recalled that Tanya was a squirrel. Lawrence had dragged Holo into the stone tower. Perhaps the tower looked like a nest to the avatar of a tree squirrel.

Tanya blinked her big, round eyes, then finally gave a carefree smile. "Of course!" Elsa mused at how Tanya was a surprisingly naughty person as she opened the door Lawrence and Holo passed through not moments earlier and stepped inside the tower. A spiral staircase led upward, and it was rather obvious that it had been built for greater reasons than for nobility to show off. Though when Elsa thought about how it would have been used in times of war, something about it struck her as strange. How useful would a single tower like this be in war if it sat alone in the middle of such extensive plains? She found herself thinking about the pontoon bridge near Salonia. Things took on their forms for one reason or another, and the view at the top of a hill was enough to make anyone feel like they were a sovereign gazing out over their land. Or perhaps there was something for which they had been keeping watch that required an even higher vantage point? Or perhaps that was the snake? Various thoughts crossed Elsa's mind as she climbed the stairs after Tanya. With all those possibilities in her mind, she saw how the scenery out of the little windows in the wall grew more and more distant. She glanced around, hoping to find a painting that might detail the history somewhere; as they passed the third-floor window that looked down over the garden, they at last began to see the rooves of the buildings. That was when she spotted the assistant priest walking through the courtyard with others. They seemed so small, like they belonged in a distant world. The tower stairs continued upward. Tanya's steps grew heavy as she ran out of breath, so Elsa encouraged her as they went up. And just as she started to get dizzy, they exited out onto a place higher than the stone wall. Another full round up the spiral staircase would take them to the top of the tower. Elsa stopped not because Tanya was exhausted, or because they would run into Lawrence and Holo at the top of the tower. It was because her eyes were fixed on the sight that greeted her beyond the window in the wall. "No... Could this be...?" She could not help but voice her thoughts; she gulped between ragged breaths and stared hard at what she saw. As a servant of God, she told people of the divine miracles detailed in the scripture to cultivate their faith. On the other hand, she had taken in her father's footsteps to collect her own stories about the pagan gods. And then, the miraculous pair of the traveling merchant and the girl came to her town. In her eyes, they lived in a fantastic world, and they showed her a side of the world she had not thought of before. And once again, they were doing the same thing. Here they were showing her inviolable proof of a myth out of time. "What? What?! Are those snake tracks?!" Tanya came up right beside Elsa to peek through the hole in the wall and raised her own voice in shock. There was no mistaking the sight—anyone would look at it and think the same thing. Before them, in the golden fields of wheat as the grains bowed in the wind, illuminated in the autumn afternoon sun, was a distinct trail that could have only been left by a giant serpent. "B-but, this..." Elsa felt terribly confused by what she saw before her. The easiest thing to confirm was with Tanya. "Miss Tanya. Didn't you say there was no snake?" Tanya gasped at the question. "O-oh, yes, you're right. But...huh? Then why...?" Elsa doubted that Holo with her wolf's nose would have missed the presence of a snake. Or perhaps the serpent that left the tracks on the field was a being even greater than the likes of Holo or Tanya. Something that could not be seen or sensed, but left trails like this on the wheat fields only. Impossible, Elsa thought. And just as she did, a similar sentiment came from above. "H-how could I have missed this?! 'Tis impossible!"

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

Tanya blinked her big, round eyes, then finally gave a carefree smile. "Of course!" Elsa mused at how Tanya was a surprisingly naughty person as she opened the door Lawrence and Holo passed through not moments earlier and stepped inside the tower. A spiral staircase led upward, and it was rather obvious that it had been built for greater reasons than for nobility to show off. Though when Elsa thought about how it would have been used in times of war, something about it struck her as strange. How useful would a single tower like this be in war if it sat alone in the middle of such extensive plains? She found herself thinking about the pontoon bridge near Salonia. Things took on their forms for one reason or another, and the view at the top of a hill was enough to make anyone feel like they were a sovereign gazing out over their land. Or perhaps there was something for which they had been keeping watch that required an even higher vantage point? Or perhaps that was the snake? Various thoughts crossed Elsa's mind as she climbed the stairs after Tanya. With all those possibilities in her mind, she saw how the scenery out of the little windows in the wall grew more and more distant. She glanced around, hoping to find a painting that might detail the history somewhere; as they passed the third-floor window that looked down over the garden, they at last began to see the rooves of the buildings. That was when she spotted the assistant priest walking through the courtyard with others. They seemed so small, like they belonged in a distant world. The tower stairs continued upward. Tanya's steps grew heavy as she ran out of breath, so Elsa encouraged her as they went up. And just as she started to get dizzy, they exited out onto a place higher than the stone wall. Another full round up the spiral staircase would take them to the top of the tower. Elsa stopped not because Tanya was exhausted, or because they would run into Lawrence and Holo at the top of the tower. It was because her eyes were fixed on the sight that greeted her beyond the window in the wall. "No... Could this be...?" She could not help but voice her thoughts; she gulped between ragged breaths and stared hard at what she saw. As a servant of God, she told people of the divine miracles detailed in the scripture to cultivate their faith. On the other hand, she had taken in her father's footsteps to collect her own stories about the pagan gods. And then, the miraculous pair of the traveling merchant and the girl came to her town. In her eyes, they lived in a fantastic world, and they showed her a side of the world she had not thought of before. And once again, they were doing the same thing. Here they were showing her inviolable proof of a myth out of time. "What? What?! Are those snake tracks?!" Tanya came up right beside Elsa to peek through the hole in the wall and raised her own voice in shock. There was no mistaking the sight—anyone would look at it and think the same thing. Before them, in the golden fields of wheat as the grains bowed in the wind, illuminated in the autumn afternoon sun, was a distinct trail that could have only been left by a giant serpent. "B-but, this..." Elsa felt terribly confused by what she saw before her. The easiest thing to confirm was with Tanya. "Miss Tanya. Didn't you say there was no snake?" Tanya gasped at the question. "O-oh, yes, you're right. But...huh? Then why...?" Elsa doubted that Holo with her wolf's nose would have missed the presence of a snake. Or perhaps the serpent that left the tracks on the field was a being even greater than the likes of Holo or Tanya. Something that could not be seen or sensed, but left trails like this on the wheat fields only. Impossible, Elsa thought. And just as she did, a similar sentiment came from above. "H-how could I have missed this?! 'Tis impossible!"

"This snake...left a trail in the wheat..." Elsa and Tanya came to a stop just as they were about to reach the top. "Weird, isn't it? It's so hard to see when you're on the ground, but it's so obvious when you're up high." They could hear the hint of pride in Lawrence's voice. Elsa could easily imagine Holo squaring her shoulders and puffing out her tail. "Hrrgh... I do not understand, then. I sensed no snake at all. And most importantly—!" Holo's voice was pained, as though she were shaking off a nightmare. "The wheat would be bent, flattened entirely if there were a big snake slithering about atop it. Do you mean to tell me this snake was fluffy like mist, one that would be nice to pet?!" Though Holo and her kind were unbelievable supernatural beings to regular humans, she was still confused and agitated. But her response came from a former merchant whose voice was calm, almost suppressing a laugh. "It's the other way around." "What?!" "It wasn't slithering on top of the wheat. It was going under. And it's probably the same, in a way, even now." *** All Elsa could hear were Holo's fevered breaths. Words were failing her. Holo likely stood perfectly still, her eyes wide, fangs bared, ready to leap forward at any moment. But Elsa was in the same state of mind. She had completely forgotten about feeling like a young girl trying to eavesdrop on a love confession, and instead strained her ears to hear Lawrence's explanation. "That isn't the great serpent, though." "What?!" "Wh-whoa, hey! Don't push me! I'll fall!" Elsa could hear Lawrence panic as Holo rushed Lawrence, finally out of patience. "It is not the serpent...? Dear... Dear, are you bli—oh. Hmm?" It finally dawned on Holo as she held Lawrence in her grip. Elsa could picture it so easily, as though she were there with them. Lawrence had been holding that old map in his hands. She was astonished. "Exactly. It's what's left of a river." His voice was gentle, as though he was carefully guiding her through his thought process. "There was an old topographical map of the area along with some other old maps. And this is an exact match with what we see here." Tanya fidgeted, wanting to look out the window again, so Elsa moved over to give her room; she watched as Tanya scooted past her down the stairs, and she concentrated on the voices above her at the same time. "This old river flows across the Salonia plain from the eastern mountain range to the southwest. And see, if you follow the snake tracks the entire way, you'd get to the mountains in the east, right? Then, you'll start getting very close to the river that we crossed if you go farther upstream." Elsa could picture Holo turning to look where Lawrence was pointing, then turning back to look at him in disappointment. There came a loud rustling of clothes and irritable footsteps. "According to this map, there used to be two rivers cutting across the plain. The remains in the field are of the ones that dried up." "B-but..." Holo fell silent, and Elsa empathized with her bewilderment. Holo had stood before that wheat field not long ago, after all. Would she not have noticed if the flow of the old river left a physical mark on the land, an indent in the very ground? And most importantly, anyone who knew anything about minding wheat fields would question if it would remain unchanged, even after months and years of tilling. And yet it was strange that an old river had left such a clear mark on the ground, like a carpet for the wheat. It was as though only the wheat itself knew how the land changed... When that thought crossed Elsa's mind, she almost exclaimed, but stopped herself. Then wisewolf Holo arrived at the same answer. "Drainage!" "Very perceptive. I asked the villagers, and they said that the dirt was deepest only where the river used to be, which meant the plants there grew in a slightly different manner."

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

"This snake...left a trail in the wheat..." Elsa and Tanya came to a stop just as they were about to reach the top. "Weird, isn't it? It's so hard to see when you're on the ground, but it's so obvious when you're up high." They could hear the hint of pride in Lawrence's voice. Elsa could easily imagine Holo squaring her shoulders and puffing out her tail. "Hrrgh... I do not understand, then. I sensed no snake at all. And most importantly—!" Holo's voice was pained, as though she were shaking off a nightmare. "The wheat would be bent, flattened entirely if there were a big snake slithering about atop it. Do you mean to tell me this snake was fluffy like mist, one that would be nice to pet?!" Though Holo and her kind were unbelievable supernatural beings to regular humans, she was still confused and agitated. But her response came from a former merchant whose voice was calm, almost suppressing a laugh. "It's the other way around." "What?!" "It wasn't slithering on top of the wheat. It was going under. And it's probably the same, in a way, even now." *** All Elsa could hear were Holo's fevered breaths. Words were failing her. Holo likely stood perfectly still, her eyes wide, fangs bared, ready to leap forward at any moment. But Elsa was in the same state of mind. She had completely forgotten about feeling like a young girl trying to eavesdrop on a love confession, and instead strained her ears to hear Lawrence's explanation. "That isn't the great serpent, though." "What?!" "Wh-whoa, hey! Don't push me! I'll fall!" Elsa could hear Lawrence panic as Holo rushed Lawrence, finally out of patience. "It is not the serpent...? Dear... Dear, are you bli—oh. Hmm?" It finally dawned on Holo as she held Lawrence in her grip. Elsa could picture it so easily, as though she were there with them. Lawrence had been holding that old map in his hands. She was astonished. "Exactly. It's what's left of a river." His voice was gentle, as though he was carefully guiding her through his thought process. "There was an old topographical map of the area along with some other old maps. And this is an exact match with what we see here." Tanya fidgeted, wanting to look out the window again, so Elsa moved over to give her room; she watched as Tanya scooted past her down the stairs, and she concentrated on the voices above her at the same time. "This old river flows across the Salonia plain from the eastern mountain range to the southwest. And see, if you follow the snake tracks the entire way, you'd get to the mountains in the east, right? Then, you'll start getting very close to the river that we crossed if you go farther upstream." Elsa could picture Holo turning to look where Lawrence was pointing, then turning back to look at him in disappointment. There came a loud rustling of clothes and irritable footsteps. "According to this map, there used to be two rivers cutting across the plain. The remains in the field are of the ones that dried up." "B-but..." Holo fell silent, and Elsa empathized with her bewilderment. Holo had stood before that wheat field not long ago, after all. Would she not have noticed if the flow of the old river left a physical mark on the land, an indent in the very ground? And most importantly, anyone who knew anything about minding wheat fields would question if it would remain unchanged, even after months and years of tilling. And yet it was strange that an old river had left such a clear mark on the ground, like a carpet for the wheat. It was as though only the wheat itself knew how the land changed... When that thought crossed Elsa's mind, she almost exclaimed, but stopped herself. Then wisewolf Holo arrived at the same answer. "Drainage!" "Very perceptive. I asked the villagers, and they said that the dirt was deepest only where the river used to be, which meant the plants there grew in a slightly different manner."

"It isn't enough to change the wheat harvest for better or worse, but the heights and stalks were slightly, but surely different. And so the only time you can see this is when the wheat is ripe and from high spots. We were lucky," Lawrence, very likely looking out over the fields, said, his tone relaxed. "In which case...what of the snake?" Elsa understood Holo's confusion, too. Because if the great serpent of myth was indeed the remains of this old river, then she would have to readjust her thought process in order to comprehend what this all meant. What of the tale of the Hero Voragine, then? It was unlikely that his only achievement had been to notice the slight color difference in the wheat fields, hurriedly construct a tower, then claim a serpent once roamed there. Would such a thing even earn him tariff-levying privileges, or any titles at all? Lawrence, of course, could explain it all, which was why he had brought Holo here with that big smile of his. "The serpent that hampered trade did actually exist." *** Lawrence had just told her that the mark on the field was not from the snake. Elsa could clearly sense Holo's bewilderment through her silence. Lawrence enjoyed leading her by the nose, especially since she typically had the upper hand between them, but he knew clear well what would happen if he got carried away. He spoke to soothe her, but his voice still had a chuckle in it. "It's pretty complicated." "...Hmph." Elsa could practically see Lawrence grimacing as Holo pouted. "First, the Hero Voragine didn't actually kill a serpent. But he did take down something a lot like it." It was wholly a riddle, and Holo the Wisewolf was cross enough to have absolutely no intention of waiting for an answer. Elsa could hear a gentle smile in Lawrence's voice, like he thought it was funny, as he continued talking. "He killed the serpent not with a sword, but with a spade. He dried up the river." Elsa took a step down the stairs, listening to Lawrence as she joined Tanya in looking out the window over the fields. "But it'd be strange if anyone could become a noble by drying up a river, wouldn't it?" Holo's tone in response was reluctant; perhaps she felt guilty for ignoring him any further. "Those who grew the wheat would only come to loathe him." "Exactly. And you can't just make the snake a metaphor for the river. You remember how we crossed the pontoon bridge, right?" "Aye, I do. What of it?" "You asked why they didn't just build a big bridge over the river, remember?" Elsa was a few moments away from answering the riddle herself, but the wisewolf let her wisdom be known. "Because of all the lumber that comes down from the mounta—Oh!" "Exactly. They float all the logs down the river. Imagine what it'd look like if you stood next to the river and watched them go by." It would look like a massive snake. "B-but, ah..." "That's only half the story, though." Even Elsa could picture Lawrence's exaggerated movements as he became more absorbed in the story. "The river used to have two branches, remember? One of them never went to Salonia; it came this way. There are no towns out on these plains, and it's far out of sight." Though Holo was a spirit from a bygone era, she had been traveling with this former merchant for a while now, and she had learned how to view the world the way he did. "Smuggling." As kind as Lawrence seemed, he was still a merchant at heart. Their journey together had not been entirely wholesome, and Holo had been exposed to much of the darkness of the mercantile world.

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

"It isn't enough to change the wheat harvest for better or worse, but the heights and stalks were slightly, but surely different. And so the only time you can see this is when the wheat is ripe and from high spots. We were lucky," Lawrence, very likely looking out over the fields, said, his tone relaxed. "In which case...what of the snake?" Elsa understood Holo's confusion, too. Because if the great serpent of myth was indeed the remains of this old river, then she would have to readjust her thought process in order to comprehend what this all meant. What of the tale of the Hero Voragine, then? It was unlikely that his only achievement had been to notice the slight color difference in the wheat fields, hurriedly construct a tower, then claim a serpent once roamed there. Would such a thing even earn him tariff-levying privileges, or any titles at all? Lawrence, of course, could explain it all, which was why he had brought Holo here with that big smile of his. "The serpent that hampered trade did actually exist." *** Lawrence had just told her that the mark on the field was not from the snake. Elsa could clearly sense Holo's bewilderment through her silence. Lawrence enjoyed leading her by the nose, especially since she typically had the upper hand between them, but he knew clear well what would happen if he got carried away. He spoke to soothe her, but his voice still had a chuckle in it. "It's pretty complicated." "...Hmph." Elsa could practically see Lawrence grimacing as Holo pouted. "First, the Hero Voragine didn't actually kill a serpent. But he did take down something a lot like it." It was wholly a riddle, and Holo the Wisewolf was cross enough to have absolutely no intention of waiting for an answer. Elsa could hear a gentle smile in Lawrence's voice, like he thought it was funny, as he continued talking. "He killed the serpent not with a sword, but with a spade. He dried up the river." Elsa took a step down the stairs, listening to Lawrence as she joined Tanya in looking out the window over the fields. "But it'd be strange if anyone could become a noble by drying up a river, wouldn't it?" Holo's tone in response was reluctant; perhaps she felt guilty for ignoring him any further. "Those who grew the wheat would only come to loathe him." "Exactly. And you can't just make the snake a metaphor for the river. You remember how we crossed the pontoon bridge, right?" "Aye, I do. What of it?" "You asked why they didn't just build a big bridge over the river, remember?" Elsa was a few moments away from answering the riddle herself, but the wisewolf let her wisdom be known. "Because of all the lumber that comes down from the mounta—Oh!" "Exactly. They float all the logs down the river. Imagine what it'd look like if you stood next to the river and watched them go by." It would look like a massive snake. "B-but, ah..." "That's only half the story, though." Even Elsa could picture Lawrence's exaggerated movements as he became more absorbed in the story. "The river used to have two branches, remember? One of them never went to Salonia; it came this way. There are no towns out on these plains, and it's far out of sight." Though Holo was a spirit from a bygone era, she had been traveling with this former merchant for a while now, and she had learned how to view the world the way he did. "Smuggling." As kind as Lawrence seemed, he was still a merchant at heart. Their journey together had not been entirely wholesome, and Holo had been exposed to much of the darkness of the mercantile world.

The moonlight could only provide so much light. Using torches at the front of this dark procession could only make it look like one thing. "It would look like...snake eyes in the dark." "And it was the Hero Voragine who vanquished the serpent." All by drying up the river. "I had a rough idea of what happened when I saw the map in the village. I also thought it was very odd that the lumber merchants and the Church couldn't settle this ongoing dispute of theirs. I think everyone knows about this." A keen-eyed passerby noticing a flaw in a long-held belief, especially one that had avoided scrutiny by locals for generations, was something that happened often in adventure tales, but not so much so in real life. The truth was so obvious that they could not put it into simple words. The Church, at the time, had been busy fighting the pagans, so it had been much more convenient to dress it up as the story of a great serpent being killed; the lumber merchants were beholden to the immoral acts with which their predecessors sullied their hands. Neither of them could say anything decisive, however, and remained in silent deadlocked stares when a traveler with a lot of sway but ignorance in local affairs came to town. And so, they had called on Lawrence, hoping he would give them the advantage without him ever noticing the truth. "But I'm not going to let them pull my strings like that." Elsa could picture the smug look on Lawrence's face, and she could just as easily see the mixture of exasperation, vexation, and even joy on Holo's. She could just scarcely hear Holo's tail, fluffed in displeasure, swishing back and forth. "And I think this out-of-place tower was meant to serve as a lookout for smugglers who used the old river. Remember how Miss Tanya said that she heard merchants complaining about the snake that made it impossible to sell any metal from the mines? All the smuggling had likely caused control to become so strict that it affected legal trade." Elsa understood—and it was because the Hero Voragine resolved this problem that he was awarded with tariff rights and a title of nobility out of it. "That's more or less the myth of the great serpent of the Salonia plain." When Elsa would stay the night at an inn while she was on the road, she had often encountered travelers sitting around the hearth in the great hall, ale in hand, sharing interesting stories of things they had encountered on their travels. Lawrence had surely done the same almost every night when he was traveling with Holo. When his familiar storytelling cadence came to an end, Holo had calmed significantly after being led so ruthlessly by the nose. "You are honestly—" "—Amazing, I know." He had told the story in an amusing yet confident manner. And, of course, it was not as though Holo genuinely thought Lawrence to be a foolish sheep. It was because she could occasionally corner him in an argument, as he did to her, that Holo the wolf could not tear herself away from Lawrence. "I suppose so, yes. Then what are you going to do?" Elsa thought about how indifferent Holo sounded for only a brief moment. She could tell from the footsteps above that Holo had drawn closer to Lawrence, perhaps holding his hand. "Do you intend to obtain this field for yourself and then present it to me? The truth of this situation must be quite delicate for the Church." She sounded like a wolf playfully nuzzling and nipping at her prey. "If all know the truth, but none choose to divulge, it becomes impossible to pick a side." She was right. If Lawrence were to side with the Church and obtain tariff and lordship rights and maintain high tariffs on the lumber merchants, then they would have to acknowledge that they were being punished for the wrongdoings of the past and may even be forced to admit the truth of the great serpent, that the legend fabricated by the church was exactly that—fabricated.

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

The moonlight could only provide so much light. Using torches at the front of this dark procession could only make it look like one thing. "It would look like...snake eyes in the dark." "And it was the Hero Voragine who vanquished the serpent." All by drying up the river. "I had a rough idea of what happened when I saw the map in the village. I also thought it was very odd that the lumber merchants and the Church couldn't settle this ongoing dispute of theirs. I think everyone knows about this." A keen-eyed passerby noticing a flaw in a long-held belief, especially one that had avoided scrutiny by locals for generations, was something that happened often in adventure tales, but not so much so in real life. The truth was so obvious that they could not put it into simple words. The Church, at the time, had been busy fighting the pagans, so it had been much more convenient to dress it up as the story of a great serpent being killed; the lumber merchants were beholden to the immoral acts with which their predecessors sullied their hands. Neither of them could say anything decisive, however, and remained in silent deadlocked stares when a traveler with a lot of sway but ignorance in local affairs came to town. And so, they had called on Lawrence, hoping he would give them the advantage without him ever noticing the truth. "But I'm not going to let them pull my strings like that." Elsa could picture the smug look on Lawrence's face, and she could just as easily see the mixture of exasperation, vexation, and even joy on Holo's. She could just scarcely hear Holo's tail, fluffed in displeasure, swishing back and forth. "And I think this out-of-place tower was meant to serve as a lookout for smugglers who used the old river. Remember how Miss Tanya said that she heard merchants complaining about the snake that made it impossible to sell any metal from the mines? All the smuggling had likely caused control to become so strict that it affected legal trade." Elsa understood—and it was because the Hero Voragine resolved this problem that he was awarded with tariff rights and a title of nobility out of it. "That's more or less the myth of the great serpent of the Salonia plain." When Elsa would stay the night at an inn while she was on the road, she had often encountered travelers sitting around the hearth in the great hall, ale in hand, sharing interesting stories of things they had encountered on their travels. Lawrence had surely done the same almost every night when he was traveling with Holo. When his familiar storytelling cadence came to an end, Holo had calmed significantly after being led so ruthlessly by the nose. "You are honestly—" "—Amazing, I know." He had told the story in an amusing yet confident manner. And, of course, it was not as though Holo genuinely thought Lawrence to be a foolish sheep. It was because she could occasionally corner him in an argument, as he did to her, that Holo the wolf could not tear herself away from Lawrence. "I suppose so, yes. Then what are you going to do?" Elsa thought about how indifferent Holo sounded for only a brief moment. She could tell from the footsteps above that Holo had drawn closer to Lawrence, perhaps holding his hand. "Do you intend to obtain this field for yourself and then present it to me? The truth of this situation must be quite delicate for the Church." She sounded like a wolf playfully nuzzling and nipping at her prey. "If all know the truth, but none choose to divulge, it becomes impossible to pick a side." She was right. If Lawrence were to side with the Church and obtain tariff and lordship rights and maintain high tariffs on the lumber merchants, then they would have to acknowledge that they were being punished for the wrongdoings of the past and may even be forced to admit the truth of the great serpent, that the legend fabricated by the church was exactly that—fabricated.

"...Hrm?" "I'll tell the lumber merchants that because of the wrongdoing their predecessors caused, they have no hope of ever having tariffs significantly lowered. But I'll tell the church that this myth they've been spreading is an outright lie, and that the people who were engaging in all the smuggling went to their graves years ago, and then propose they find a compromise with the merchants." "...Mm." "All I need from the lumber merchants is a little thank-you. And we can drink all we want with that money." Holo's tail was probably already swishing when she heard of such an obvious reward. "But...what of the field? Will you be giving up on it?" Despite how hesitant she had been when Lawrence first brought it up, she seemed sad now that it was about to vanish from her grasp. Lawrence did not reply to her question right away. Though he seemed foolish at a glance, the man was prudent; it was as though he was gently gifting her a treasure. "Instead of thanks from the Church, I'm going to ask they send a set amount of wheat to Nyohhira each year." "...You what?" "Then, every year, when we bake our bread using that wheat, we'll remember what happened today." Ale had no value once consumed, and coins were little more than useless baubles. But receiving wheat every year, harvested from land rich with memories, was a different story. Holo spent her days writing every detail of her activities down. She had been frightened when she saw her partner's face illuminated by the light of an inn that was not her bathhouse, her home. Each new line served as a reminder that time flowed differently for the two of them. Even the mightiest of rivers would eventually run dry. One day, her words might also dry up. But wheat, with its myriad flavors and aromas, could create fresh memories. "If the wheat's not good, then just have Myuri come check up on things. Or you can come yourself. Might not be a bad way to spend your time, you know, coming down here a—" Elsa decided not to think about why Lawrence did not finish his sentence. Tanya strained her ears curiously and she even began to crane her neck in an attempt to see them, but even the straitlaced Elsa knew that lingering here any longer would be tactless of them. She placed her hand on Tanya's shoulder and pointed down the stairs with a smile. Elsa's heart was full as they made their way down the stairs. From Tereo, she had walked to church after church, hoping to be of some use to the clergy as it floundered in the torrent of the ages. What she had seen over and over again were the devout acting in ways unbefitting servants of God, though there may have not been any malice behind their actions. Anything truly genuine was a rare find in this world. People often painted things in brighter hues; they often dressed them up to seem greater than they were. But at times, she did come across things like this. Once they exited the narrow tower staircase and came to the open garden, Tanya heaved a deep sigh. Elsa turned her gaze up to the top of the tower and could not help the smile tugging at her lips. The smile was not just because of the deep affection the couple had for each other, but because of the way she herself felt. "It's been quite a while since I've felt homesick." Her home was full of noise, with things constantly happening, and her memories consisted almost entirely of her yelling. But that was where she truly belonged. Perhaps it was nowhere near as saccharine as Lawrence and Holo's relationship, but her family was still precious to her—blankets had to be readjusted after being kicked off in the night. *** But that was when she noticed how still Tanya stood next to her. Though she would not point it out herself, Elsa saw envy, and a pronounced sadness, in Tanya's expression.

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

"...Hrm?" "I'll tell the lumber merchants that because of the wrongdoing their predecessors caused, they have no hope of ever having tariffs significantly lowered. But I'll tell the church that this myth they've been spreading is an outright lie, and that the people who were engaging in all the smuggling went to their graves years ago, and then propose they find a compromise with the merchants." "...Mm." "All I need from the lumber merchants is a little thank-you. And we can drink all we want with that money." Holo's tail was probably already swishing when she heard of such an obvious reward. "But...what of the field? Will you be giving up on it?" Despite how hesitant she had been when Lawrence first brought it up, she seemed sad now that it was about to vanish from her grasp. Lawrence did not reply to her question right away. Though he seemed foolish at a glance, the man was prudent; it was as though he was gently gifting her a treasure. "Instead of thanks from the Church, I'm going to ask they send a set amount of wheat to Nyohhira each year." "...You what?" "Then, every year, when we bake our bread using that wheat, we'll remember what happened today." Ale had no value once consumed, and coins were little more than useless baubles. But receiving wheat every year, harvested from land rich with memories, was a different story. Holo spent her days writing every detail of her activities down. She had been frightened when she saw her partner's face illuminated by the light of an inn that was not her bathhouse, her home. Each new line served as a reminder that time flowed differently for the two of them. Even the mightiest of rivers would eventually run dry. One day, her words might also dry up. But wheat, with its myriad flavors and aromas, could create fresh memories. "If the wheat's not good, then just have Myuri come check up on things. Or you can come yourself. Might not be a bad way to spend your time, you know, coming down here a—" Elsa decided not to think about why Lawrence did not finish his sentence. Tanya strained her ears curiously and she even began to crane her neck in an attempt to see them, but even the straitlaced Elsa knew that lingering here any longer would be tactless of them. She placed her hand on Tanya's shoulder and pointed down the stairs with a smile. Elsa's heart was full as they made their way down the stairs. From Tereo, she had walked to church after church, hoping to be of some use to the clergy as it floundered in the torrent of the ages. What she had seen over and over again were the devout acting in ways unbefitting servants of God, though there may have not been any malice behind their actions. Anything truly genuine was a rare find in this world. People often painted things in brighter hues; they often dressed them up to seem greater than they were. But at times, she did come across things like this. Once they exited the narrow tower staircase and came to the open garden, Tanya heaved a deep sigh. Elsa turned her gaze up to the top of the tower and could not help the smile tugging at her lips. The smile was not just because of the deep affection the couple had for each other, but because of the way she herself felt. "It's been quite a while since I've felt homesick." Her home was full of noise, with things constantly happening, and her memories consisted almost entirely of her yelling. But that was where she truly belonged. Perhaps it was nowhere near as saccharine as Lawrence and Holo's relationship, but her family was still precious to her—blankets had to be readjusted after being kicked off in the night. *** But that was when she noticed how still Tanya stood next to her. Though she would not point it out herself, Elsa saw envy, and a pronounced sadness, in Tanya's expression.

When she finally realized Elsa was staring at her, a guilty look crossed her face. So, without a word, Elsa pulled Tanya in for a hug, and they remained there for a long while before Elsa finally spoke up. "My home is a bit far from here, but would you like to come with me?" Tanya blinked, her lips mouthing words that never came. The corner of Elsa's mouth turned upward in a teasing smile, and she pointed to the top of the tower. "I believe you have the right to follow that happy-go-lucky couple, too, if you wanted to." Tanya followed suit and also looked up, and by the time she looked back at Elsa, a warm look had crossed her face. "Yes! I would love to go with you!" There was no reason for Tanya to be left by herself on her mountain. Elsa nodded, smiling, and added after a moment of hesitation, "Perhaps you may meet someone nice along the way." Tanya's eyes widened and her face went red; she brought both her hands up to her cheeks. "But, the master..." She was talking about the alchemist, the one who was likely dead by now. She might have had an inkling of what had become of him, but it was best not to dwell on it. "But the master is too good for me, so I could never... So then, umm..." She was clearly enjoying this. Elsa smiled, gave a short laugh and said, "I, too, am still a child for enjoying talk of romance." It was what it was. Tanya beamed. "There's so much I want to talk about!" "Of course." Elsa wondered if it was worth extending the conversation invite to the wolf. She was likely the happiest girl in this world, and would have many unbelievable stories to share. "We're going back to town!" Elsa called up to the top of the tower, planting her hands on her hips. She would go home, too. And when she pictured herself turning down any further work from that greedy bishop, she felt quite refreshed. *** Back when Lawrence had yet to sprout a single hair on his chin, a traveling merchant came to his village. He became close with the man, and they left the village together. His master had been an eccentric person, and though he had not taught Lawrence every trick of the trade, nor had he been a particularly kind benefactor, the treatment Lawrence received had not been as horrible as what the errand boys in large companies endured. When he thought back on it, he likened the relationship to a stray cat taking in a puppy and raising it entirely on a whim. And the reason his mentor had been so strange was because his outlook on life was unique, formed after years of living on the road. As he grew older than his mentor was at the time, Lawrence had now found himself gazing out over the autumn festival in Salonia, a town he had so happened to stop by in his first journey in a long while. It was strange how those memories suddenly came back to him. From his window at the inn, he watched over the plaza; he watched as the people built a large stage, as the important folk from both the city and the church held some sort of celebration, and how the people reveled in one last party before winter came. Salonia had no stand-out religious events, so the highlight of the autumn festival was the drinking contest, where people competed to see who could drink the largest amount of the distilled spirit made from the local wheat. He could hear them call out different names, and the most muscular dock boys from the river port and the most confident young clergy from the church came to the stage. It was, all in all, a very relaxed atmosphere. As Lawrence looked down at the plaza, he found himself smiling because he spotted among them one small girl. Her hair, colored in a way that would make her impossible to find if she were to slip in among the wheat fields, was braided today, which was unusual. Her petite stature and slender frame made her seem like a highborn lady, but the way she carried herself made her seem more imposing than anything else. Sitting by the window, he smiled and thought: There's the wolf.

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

When she finally realized Elsa was staring at her, a guilty look crossed her face. So, without a word, Elsa pulled Tanya in for a hug, and they remained there for a long while before Elsa finally spoke up. "My home is a bit far from here, but would you like to come with me?" Tanya blinked, her lips mouthing words that never came. The corner of Elsa's mouth turned upward in a teasing smile, and she pointed to the top of the tower. "I believe you have the right to follow that happy-go-lucky couple, too, if you wanted to." Tanya followed suit and also looked up, and by the time she looked back at Elsa, a warm look had crossed her face. "Yes! I would love to go with you!" There was no reason for Tanya to be left by herself on her mountain. Elsa nodded, smiling, and added after a moment of hesitation, "Perhaps you may meet someone nice along the way." Tanya's eyes widened and her face went red; she brought both her hands up to her cheeks. "But, the master..." She was talking about the alchemist, the one who was likely dead by now. She might have had an inkling of what had become of him, but it was best not to dwell on it. "But the master is too good for me, so I could never... So then, umm..." She was clearly enjoying this. Elsa smiled, gave a short laugh and said, "I, too, am still a child for enjoying talk of romance." It was what it was. Tanya beamed. "There's so much I want to talk about!" "Of course." Elsa wondered if it was worth extending the conversation invite to the wolf. She was likely the happiest girl in this world, and would have many unbelievable stories to share. "We're going back to town!" Elsa called up to the top of the tower, planting her hands on her hips. She would go home, too. And when she pictured herself turning down any further work from that greedy bishop, she felt quite refreshed. *** Back when Lawrence had yet to sprout a single hair on his chin, a traveling merchant came to his village. He became close with the man, and they left the village together. His master had been an eccentric person, and though he had not taught Lawrence every trick of the trade, nor had he been a particularly kind benefactor, the treatment Lawrence received had not been as horrible as what the errand boys in large companies endured. When he thought back on it, he likened the relationship to a stray cat taking in a puppy and raising it entirely on a whim. And the reason his mentor had been so strange was because his outlook on life was unique, formed after years of living on the road. As he grew older than his mentor was at the time, Lawrence had now found himself gazing out over the autumn festival in Salonia, a town he had so happened to stop by in his first journey in a long while. It was strange how those memories suddenly came back to him. From his window at the inn, he watched over the plaza; he watched as the people built a large stage, as the important folk from both the city and the church held some sort of celebration, and how the people reveled in one last party before winter came. Salonia had no stand-out religious events, so the highlight of the autumn festival was the drinking contest, where people competed to see who could drink the largest amount of the distilled spirit made from the local wheat. He could hear them call out different names, and the most muscular dock boys from the river port and the most confident young clergy from the church came to the stage. It was, all in all, a very relaxed atmosphere. As Lawrence looked down at the plaza, he found himself smiling because he spotted among them one small girl. Her hair, colored in a way that would make her impossible to find if she were to slip in among the wheat fields, was braided today, which was unusual. Her petite stature and slender frame made her seem like a highborn lady, but the way she carried herself made her seem more imposing than anything else. Sitting by the window, he smiled and thought: There's the wolf.

The reason his mind went to his mentor, someone he had not thought about for a very long time, was because the thoughts had happened to spill forth after he opened his mental drawer of travel memories. Or perhaps because he had been rifling through that very drawer for a clue. As he made his plans for their journey, there was something he needed to think about. Along one's travels, a person would likely experience more than joyous occasions. That was still the case when they were allowed to spend their time freely in such a lively city, too, as odd as it sounded. Perhaps the more enjoyable something was, the more pain it could potentially produce. That was because a life on the road meant trading certainty and routine for flexibility—and stability for freedom. "Once the festival is over, I believe I will be returning home." It was yesterday that the priestess Elsa, the one who had spent quite a lot of time with them as of late, brought up the topic. It happened after they convinced the church and the lumber merchants to come to a compromise over the Salonia tariffs and were on their way back to their lodgings. Holo had no interest at all in the tariff meetings, so she had gone ahead to the taverns at the town square, leaving Lawrence and Elsa to walk back together. Lawrence understood that she had been waiting for a moment like that to bring up their parting, but there was one thing he still didn't understand. "Why not tell Holo first?" Unbeknownst to him, Holo had come to speak with Elsa while he was occupied with the tariffs. Even when he watched Elsa scold Holo, and how Holo would ignore her, he noticed a closeness between them that he had not seen before. And so he wondered why the conscientious Elsa did not tell Holo about this beforehand. It was that thought that brought Lawrence to ask the question, but after giving him a faint smile, she directed her gaze forward again. "I think we've grown too close." Elsa was a servant of God who followed a strict set of rules to the letter. Though that was Lawrence's impression of her, in that moment, he got a glimpse of her true self. "I am not used to traveling. I was shaken by a sudden onset of homesickness, that's all." Elsa originally lived a quiet life in a town called Tereo, watching over a church her father left for her. But as the world started turning a harsh gaze on the Church, she had been summoned to help with other churches here and there with managing their assets and privileges, which is how she came to a land as far north as this. In her hometown, she apparently had three children with a man named Evan, who, in Lawrence's memory, was still a good-natured milling boy. "Miss Holo is so sharp. I doubt I can hide my urgency to return home. But..." Elsa gave a long sigh, one that almost made her look smaller. "...I would seem cold and distant if I did not, wouldn't I?" It was a common sight when traveling. One could meet another person who would soon become a delightful drinking buddy; someone they could open up to and feel a deep sense of camaraderie with. But the person might suddenly leave one day, citing family reasons. To them, we are nothing more than another guest in a long stream of guests, and they have a firm routine to which they must return. They would go back to the warm lights of their hearths, and homes filled with laughter. But those who spent their lives on the road would have to return to their inns alone. And when dawn broke again, they would move on to the next town. Along her brief travels, Elsa must have tasted that particular flavor of loneliness. Despite how tightly tied back her hair was, and how it seemed her astute, honey-tinted eyes saw nothing but logic and reason, Lawrence knew that she was much warmer and kinder than the average person. The reason she found it difficult to bring up leaving was because she did not want to hurt the lone wolf. "Should I tell her, then? I was just thinking that it was time for us to move on to the next town."

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

The reason his mind went to his mentor, someone he had not thought about for a very long time, was because the thoughts had happened to spill forth after he opened his mental drawer of travel memories. Or perhaps because he had been rifling through that very drawer for a clue. As he made his plans for their journey, there was something he needed to think about. Along one's travels, a person would likely experience more than joyous occasions. That was still the case when they were allowed to spend their time freely in such a lively city, too, as odd as it sounded. Perhaps the more enjoyable something was, the more pain it could potentially produce. That was because a life on the road meant trading certainty and routine for flexibility—and stability for freedom. "Once the festival is over, I believe I will be returning home." It was yesterday that the priestess Elsa, the one who had spent quite a lot of time with them as of late, brought up the topic. It happened after they convinced the church and the lumber merchants to come to a compromise over the Salonia tariffs and were on their way back to their lodgings. Holo had no interest at all in the tariff meetings, so she had gone ahead to the taverns at the town square, leaving Lawrence and Elsa to walk back together. Lawrence understood that she had been waiting for a moment like that to bring up their parting, but there was one thing he still didn't understand. "Why not tell Holo first?" Unbeknownst to him, Holo had come to speak with Elsa while he was occupied with the tariffs. Even when he watched Elsa scold Holo, and how Holo would ignore her, he noticed a closeness between them that he had not seen before. And so he wondered why the conscientious Elsa did not tell Holo about this beforehand. It was that thought that brought Lawrence to ask the question, but after giving him a faint smile, she directed her gaze forward again. "I think we've grown too close." Elsa was a servant of God who followed a strict set of rules to the letter. Though that was Lawrence's impression of her, in that moment, he got a glimpse of her true self. "I am not used to traveling. I was shaken by a sudden onset of homesickness, that's all." Elsa originally lived a quiet life in a town called Tereo, watching over a church her father left for her. But as the world started turning a harsh gaze on the Church, she had been summoned to help with other churches here and there with managing their assets and privileges, which is how she came to a land as far north as this. In her hometown, she apparently had three children with a man named Evan, who, in Lawrence's memory, was still a good-natured milling boy. "Miss Holo is so sharp. I doubt I can hide my urgency to return home. But..." Elsa gave a long sigh, one that almost made her look smaller. "...I would seem cold and distant if I did not, wouldn't I?" It was a common sight when traveling. One could meet another person who would soon become a delightful drinking buddy; someone they could open up to and feel a deep sense of camaraderie with. But the person might suddenly leave one day, citing family reasons. To them, we are nothing more than another guest in a long stream of guests, and they have a firm routine to which they must return. They would go back to the warm lights of their hearths, and homes filled with laughter. But those who spent their lives on the road would have to return to their inns alone. And when dawn broke again, they would move on to the next town. Along her brief travels, Elsa must have tasted that particular flavor of loneliness. Despite how tightly tied back her hair was, and how it seemed her astute, honey-tinted eyes saw nothing but logic and reason, Lawrence knew that she was much warmer and kinder than the average person. The reason she found it difficult to bring up leaving was because she did not want to hurt the lone wolf. "Should I tell her, then? I was just thinking that it was time for us to move on to the next town."

The smile she offered him after that was tinged by self-reproach. "I feel like a child asking for help broaching a difficult topic." When she had first met Lawrence, she might have brought up her leaving without much thought or warning, simply because it was the truth. But Lawrence saw it differently. "Learning when and how to rely on others is a part of becoming an adult, I think." Back when he was hoping to become an independent merchant, he thought becoming an adult meant being able to solve every problem on his own. It was not long before he learned that was, of course, an ignorant young man's hubris. "...You act an upstanding man in your own right, so long as you're away from Miss Holo." Elsa's exasperated yet spiteful remark earned her an honest smile from Lawrence. "I rarely have a leg to stand on with her." Elsa gave an exaggerated shrug, like a city girl, before ultimately smiling. "I had not expected much when I sent you the letter. But if our unexpected reunion is anything to go by, I believe we will cross paths again," she said, not looking in Lawrence's direction. Nyohhira and Tereo were distant, and neither of them were young anymore, so logical thinking dictated they would never see each other again. Lawrence glanced at her profile before turning to face forward himself. "If anything, you should say that to Holo," he said. He did not know if she looked at him. As the plaza came into view, they saw that the outside of the liveliest tavern was the site for yet another contest to see who could drink the most. The silhouette right in the middle of all the commotion, Lawrence knew without a doubt, belonged to his beloved wolf. "I'm not sure I can find the right words," Elsa said. Despite that, once they met up with Holo and Tanya, Lawrence asked her what she planned on doing after this, just as they agreed, to which she flawlessly replied that she would be returning to Tereo, and that she had been happy to see Holo again. Holo did not seem particularly upset about having to part ways with Elsa; she was considerably drunk, after all, and she had to keep up appearances with her pseudo-protégée, Tanya, sitting beside her. She even promised to meet again in her premature words of parting; she was optimistic, already looking forward to their next reunion. Tanya and Elsa returned to the church together that night, and Lawrence dragged wobbly Holo back to the inn. It seemed as though Holo was taking the sadness that came with a journey's unavoidable partings well, only with the help of alcohol, and placing it neatly at her feet. Once the new day dawned, Holo eagerly went to join the drinking competitions early in the morning, leaving Lawrence to watch her gallant profile from the inn window as he thought about their imminent departure. Preparing for a departure always started slow, but Lawrence's primary objective in their journey was to check up on their only daughter, Myuri. He was eager to get moving, and he knew he could not drag his feet. Yet the reason he found himself thinking of his old mentor was likely because he was a bit apprehensive of what was to come. It was not because they were yet to determine Myuri and Col's precise location, nor because a trying winter journey was ahead of them. It was a problem that was more down-to-earth, easier to understand, and perhaps even vexing to some. What Lawrence was worried about was what would come after the unexpectedly brilliant and lively time they spent with Elsa and Tanya—the heavy, lingering quiet. The reason his stray cat of a mentor rarely ever interacted with others was less because of the trade advantages it afforded him with the kinds of people he met along his travels, and more out of a more cowardly cautiousness—so that he would not be swallowed by the ebbing tide of loneliness. His own parting with Lawrence had been sudden. When Lawrence awoke one morning, the man was gone.

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

The smile she offered him after that was tinged by self-reproach. "I feel like a child asking for help broaching a difficult topic." When she had first met Lawrence, she might have brought up her leaving without much thought or warning, simply because it was the truth. But Lawrence saw it differently. "Learning when and how to rely on others is a part of becoming an adult, I think." Back when he was hoping to become an independent merchant, he thought becoming an adult meant being able to solve every problem on his own. It was not long before he learned that was, of course, an ignorant young man's hubris. "...You act an upstanding man in your own right, so long as you're away from Miss Holo." Elsa's exasperated yet spiteful remark earned her an honest smile from Lawrence. "I rarely have a leg to stand on with her." Elsa gave an exaggerated shrug, like a city girl, before ultimately smiling. "I had not expected much when I sent you the letter. But if our unexpected reunion is anything to go by, I believe we will cross paths again," she said, not looking in Lawrence's direction. Nyohhira and Tereo were distant, and neither of them were young anymore, so logical thinking dictated they would never see each other again. Lawrence glanced at her profile before turning to face forward himself. "If anything, you should say that to Holo," he said. He did not know if she looked at him. As the plaza came into view, they saw that the outside of the liveliest tavern was the site for yet another contest to see who could drink the most. The silhouette right in the middle of all the commotion, Lawrence knew without a doubt, belonged to his beloved wolf. "I'm not sure I can find the right words," Elsa said. Despite that, once they met up with Holo and Tanya, Lawrence asked her what she planned on doing after this, just as they agreed, to which she flawlessly replied that she would be returning to Tereo, and that she had been happy to see Holo again. Holo did not seem particularly upset about having to part ways with Elsa; she was considerably drunk, after all, and she had to keep up appearances with her pseudo-protégée, Tanya, sitting beside her. She even promised to meet again in her premature words of parting; she was optimistic, already looking forward to their next reunion. Tanya and Elsa returned to the church together that night, and Lawrence dragged wobbly Holo back to the inn. It seemed as though Holo was taking the sadness that came with a journey's unavoidable partings well, only with the help of alcohol, and placing it neatly at her feet. Once the new day dawned, Holo eagerly went to join the drinking competitions early in the morning, leaving Lawrence to watch her gallant profile from the inn window as he thought about their imminent departure. Preparing for a departure always started slow, but Lawrence's primary objective in their journey was to check up on their only daughter, Myuri. He was eager to get moving, and he knew he could not drag his feet. Yet the reason he found himself thinking of his old mentor was likely because he was a bit apprehensive of what was to come. It was not because they were yet to determine Myuri and Col's precise location, nor because a trying winter journey was ahead of them. It was a problem that was more down-to-earth, easier to understand, and perhaps even vexing to some. What Lawrence was worried about was what would come after the unexpectedly brilliant and lively time they spent with Elsa and Tanya—the heavy, lingering quiet. The reason his stray cat of a mentor rarely ever interacted with others was less because of the trade advantages it afforded him with the kinds of people he met along his travels, and more out of a more cowardly cautiousness—so that he would not be swallowed by the ebbing tide of loneliness. His own parting with Lawrence had been sudden. When Lawrence awoke one morning, the man was gone.

When he first thought back on his mentor after he finally found his rhythm as a traveling merchant, he found that the memories had smoothed over with time, and they had settled into the recesses of his heart without any lingering pain. Now, he understood that that was his mentor's unique way of looking out for him. It had been so casual, but he only understood the weight of that choice after the fact. Though there was room for debate as to whether or not his crotchety old mentor's way of doing things was correct, he had indeed learned something about decisiveness in that moment. When he looked back on his life, he realized that rather than the basics of trade, this experience was the greatest lesson he had received. So he, too, knew that he had to pay careful consideration to his traveling companion in much the same way in times like these. Your student's still doing well for himself, Lawrence told the memory of his mentor, then downed the rest of his ale. Outside his window, Holo—who was quite the celebrity in Salonia by now—had her arm linked through that of a sturdy-looking dock loader, and they were drinking their cups dry. "She'll be hungover tomorrow, so I guess we'll leave the day after, or the day after that," Lawrence murmured and stood, grabbing his coat as he left the room. Beyond the open window, Holo lifted up her empty cup and basked in the cheers and applause. "Farewell," Elsa said briefly, and began walking down the road, headed south. It had been two days since the festival in Salonia had ended, and as the morning came once again, a reluctant air filled the town, a hint that the townsfolk would begrudgingly return to their daily lives in preparation for winter. She had sensed that if she stayed in town one day longer, the bishop, reputed for being glib, would yet again push some troublesome affair onto her plate, so she had quite bluntly said no to any more requests for work. Standing next to her was Tanya, who was going to be accompanying her to Tereo. Tanya kept turning around to look at Holo and wave. At first, Holo had waved back every time, but she soon grew tired of the act and no longer raised her hand. Yet Lawrence and Holo stood there watching until Tanya and Elsa vanished completely; Holo stared out down the path, a whirl of emotion hidden behind her faint smile. "What excitement that was, no?" When they were finally gone, Holo planted her hands on her hips and spoke. "We were surprisingly busy." They had originally left the hot spring village of Nyohhira in order to check on their only daughter, Myuri, who had also left on a journey. But as they followed her trail, they reunited with Elsa, met Tanya, a squirrel spirit who lived on a mountain rumored to be cursed, helped merchants who had been suffocated by a tangled web of debt, and even helped a man from the distant desert—whose true nature was that of a bishop—connect with his own villagers. All of that had made them quite well-known in Salonia, which led to him selling quite a big load of the sulfur powder, a key element in the hot springs, which Lawrence brought all the way from Nyohhira. They had also managed to replenish some of the smaller value coins that they had been lacking in as of late. And most importantly, he had managed to spread word of their bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf, to the people of influence in town. If he could tangibly harvest the fruits of a journey, then this would have been an amazing crop, but the fields after a particularly lush season often seemed starkly barren in comparison. Even Lawrence, who was no match for Holo even in daily life, could stand toe to toe with the centuries-old wolf in terms of travel experience. Lawrence had come up with a thorough plan so that the lonely wolf would not get swallowed by the sudden wash of negative emotions that so often caught travelers off guard. "I suppose...'tis time for us to depart, too."

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

When he first thought back on his mentor after he finally found his rhythm as a traveling merchant, he found that the memories had smoothed over with time, and they had settled into the recesses of his heart without any lingering pain. Now, he understood that that was his mentor's unique way of looking out for him. It had been so casual, but he only understood the weight of that choice after the fact. Though there was room for debate as to whether or not his crotchety old mentor's way of doing things was correct, he had indeed learned something about decisiveness in that moment. When he looked back on his life, he realized that rather than the basics of trade, this experience was the greatest lesson he had received. So he, too, knew that he had to pay careful consideration to his traveling companion in much the same way in times like these. Your student's still doing well for himself, Lawrence told the memory of his mentor, then downed the rest of his ale. Outside his window, Holo—who was quite the celebrity in Salonia by now—had her arm linked through that of a sturdy-looking dock loader, and they were drinking their cups dry. "She'll be hungover tomorrow, so I guess we'll leave the day after, or the day after that," Lawrence murmured and stood, grabbing his coat as he left the room. Beyond the open window, Holo lifted up her empty cup and basked in the cheers and applause. "Farewell," Elsa said briefly, and began walking down the road, headed south. It had been two days since the festival in Salonia had ended, and as the morning came once again, a reluctant air filled the town, a hint that the townsfolk would begrudgingly return to their daily lives in preparation for winter. She had sensed that if she stayed in town one day longer, the bishop, reputed for being glib, would yet again push some troublesome affair onto her plate, so she had quite bluntly said no to any more requests for work. Standing next to her was Tanya, who was going to be accompanying her to Tereo. Tanya kept turning around to look at Holo and wave. At first, Holo had waved back every time, but she soon grew tired of the act and no longer raised her hand. Yet Lawrence and Holo stood there watching until Tanya and Elsa vanished completely; Holo stared out down the path, a whirl of emotion hidden behind her faint smile. "What excitement that was, no?" When they were finally gone, Holo planted her hands on her hips and spoke. "We were surprisingly busy." They had originally left the hot spring village of Nyohhira in order to check on their only daughter, Myuri, who had also left on a journey. But as they followed her trail, they reunited with Elsa, met Tanya, a squirrel spirit who lived on a mountain rumored to be cursed, helped merchants who had been suffocated by a tangled web of debt, and even helped a man from the distant desert—whose true nature was that of a bishop—connect with his own villagers. All of that had made them quite well-known in Salonia, which led to him selling quite a big load of the sulfur powder, a key element in the hot springs, which Lawrence brought all the way from Nyohhira. They had also managed to replenish some of the smaller value coins that they had been lacking in as of late. And most importantly, he had managed to spread word of their bathhouse in Nyohhira, Spice and Wolf, to the people of influence in town. If he could tangibly harvest the fruits of a journey, then this would have been an amazing crop, but the fields after a particularly lush season often seemed starkly barren in comparison. Even Lawrence, who was no match for Holo even in daily life, could stand toe to toe with the centuries-old wolf in terms of travel experience. Lawrence had come up with a thorough plan so that the lonely wolf would not get swallowed by the sudden wash of negative emotions that so often caught travelers off guard. "I suppose...'tis time for us to depart, too."

They then went to see Elsa and Tanya off, which brought them to the present moment. Lawrence knew that the melancholy often struck out of the blue during moments like this. "But first, there's a place we need to visit." "Oh? Are we drinking more?" There was a genuine glint in her eye, which brought an unwitting smile to Lawrence's face. "No... Well, maybe." Holo looked dubiously at Lawrence in response to his ambiguous answer, but her tail began to swish back and forth in delight at the prospect of drinking. "Remember how the church promised they'd send a bit of wheat from their fields as thanks for mediating on the tariffs?" "Ah, yes, I remember." Holo sounded rather indifferent, but when she had learned that he was having wheat sent to the bathhouse every year as a reminder of their journey to that place, she was overjoyed. She was never honest with her feelings, but that was what made her so adorable. Lawrence said to her, "We still need to decide which zone will be sending us the wheat." "Hmm?" "It really isn't enough for us to just ask for the best wheat every year. It might not only be an armful, but we could probably get the wheat that grows from our territory." This was more of a formal exchange, not so one about actually getting the best wheat possible, so it was possible to call him an upstanding noble since he was the one receiving the tribute. Lawrence looked proud, but Holo only reacted with a cold demeanor. "It matters not where it comes from. You may pick anywhere from this land, and it will not change." Perhaps she could not be bothered to go out into the fields, or perhaps she was not fond of the idea to cross the bridge made of boats to get there. But Lawrence grabbed Holo's shoulders and began to guide her as he walked. "Oh, no, we can't have that. Come on, let's go." "Mm? Dear, what are you—goodness." Lawrence urged an annoyed Holo on, and once they returned to the inn, they started getting ready for their departure. They packed the cart full of things so that they would be ready to leave right after selecting their wheat field, bid good-bye to all those they had gotten to know well, then left town before noon. Though Lawrence thought Salonia might quiet down after the festival, the town had taken on life in a different sense; all those who had spent their time idling around for the festival were now working diligently to get everything put away before winter. That meant there were many people crossing the pontoon bridge, causing quite the sway. Holo ultimately found herself hunched over on the cart bed, holding her head in her hands. On the opposite bank, Lawrence bought a few thinly-sliced pieces of beef shoulder from one of the food stalls, placed it on the driver's perch, and Holo at last grumpily crawled her way to the front. "I want wine," she said as she tore into the beef, still a bit pink in the middle, but Lawrence ignored her as he gazed up at the sky, urging the cart forward. People shouldering farming tools and carts filled with stacks of straw rushed by them in either direction, but what stood out the most were the girls walking boldly, carrying massive scythes that were bigger than them. Once the fortress tower came into view, they saw that patches were starting to be harvested from what was a perfect, unbroken blanket of crop just a few days earlier. "Mm! The delicious aroma of wheat." There was a hint of dust, but accompanied by the rich scent of wheat on the calm breeze. Holo, licking her fingers clean after devouring the meat, allowed the wind to brush gently past her cheek—she seemed perfectly happy again. "Pick out a spot that looks like it's producing good wheat. You can choose wherever you want." "'Twill only be from an arm's width, though, no?" "Pick wherever you want from an arm's width." Holo turned a cold gaze toward Lawrence, but her wolf ears were twitching happily beneath her hood.

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

They then went to see Elsa and Tanya off, which brought them to the present moment. Lawrence knew that the melancholy often struck out of the blue during moments like this. "But first, there's a place we need to visit." "Oh? Are we drinking more?" There was a genuine glint in her eye, which brought an unwitting smile to Lawrence's face. "No... Well, maybe." Holo looked dubiously at Lawrence in response to his ambiguous answer, but her tail began to swish back and forth in delight at the prospect of drinking. "Remember how the church promised they'd send a bit of wheat from their fields as thanks for mediating on the tariffs?" "Ah, yes, I remember." Holo sounded rather indifferent, but when she had learned that he was having wheat sent to the bathhouse every year as a reminder of their journey to that place, she was overjoyed. She was never honest with her feelings, but that was what made her so adorable. Lawrence said to her, "We still need to decide which zone will be sending us the wheat." "Hmm?" "It really isn't enough for us to just ask for the best wheat every year. It might not only be an armful, but we could probably get the wheat that grows from our territory." This was more of a formal exchange, not so one about actually getting the best wheat possible, so it was possible to call him an upstanding noble since he was the one receiving the tribute. Lawrence looked proud, but Holo only reacted with a cold demeanor. "It matters not where it comes from. You may pick anywhere from this land, and it will not change." Perhaps she could not be bothered to go out into the fields, or perhaps she was not fond of the idea to cross the bridge made of boats to get there. But Lawrence grabbed Holo's shoulders and began to guide her as he walked. "Oh, no, we can't have that. Come on, let's go." "Mm? Dear, what are you—goodness." Lawrence urged an annoyed Holo on, and once they returned to the inn, they started getting ready for their departure. They packed the cart full of things so that they would be ready to leave right after selecting their wheat field, bid good-bye to all those they had gotten to know well, then left town before noon. Though Lawrence thought Salonia might quiet down after the festival, the town had taken on life in a different sense; all those who had spent their time idling around for the festival were now working diligently to get everything put away before winter. That meant there were many people crossing the pontoon bridge, causing quite the sway. Holo ultimately found herself hunched over on the cart bed, holding her head in her hands. On the opposite bank, Lawrence bought a few thinly-sliced pieces of beef shoulder from one of the food stalls, placed it on the driver's perch, and Holo at last grumpily crawled her way to the front. "I want wine," she said as she tore into the beef, still a bit pink in the middle, but Lawrence ignored her as he gazed up at the sky, urging the cart forward. People shouldering farming tools and carts filled with stacks of straw rushed by them in either direction, but what stood out the most were the girls walking boldly, carrying massive scythes that were bigger than them. Once the fortress tower came into view, they saw that patches were starting to be harvested from what was a perfect, unbroken blanket of crop just a few days earlier. "Mm! The delicious aroma of wheat." There was a hint of dust, but accompanied by the rich scent of wheat on the calm breeze. Holo, licking her fingers clean after devouring the meat, allowed the wind to brush gently past her cheek—she seemed perfectly happy again. "Pick out a spot that looks like it's producing good wheat. You can choose wherever you want." "'Twill only be from an arm's width, though, no?" "Pick wherever you want from an arm's width." Holo turned a cold gaze toward Lawrence, but her wolf ears were twitching happily beneath her hood.

"This reminds me of the past." Holo once ruled over the wheat harvest in a village called Pasloe. It was a village Lawrence had frequented for his trade; it had been a lively little place, since a festival was always held around harvest time. Though there was no proper festival held here, it being a fortress meant that the location came equipped with a storehouse and a central square, and so at this time of year, when all the farmers were hard at work, Lawrence had heard that it took on the spirit of a festival in its own right. Some time later, Salonia saw the harvest begin in the area around the fortress. At the same time, wheat that had been harvested a bit earlier was brought in to be husked. Lawrence guessed that it was going to be even livelier than he imagined. That was because song and drink were easily passed around in places of monotonous labor. "Oh ho! Now this is a good festival!" Lawrence smiled as Holo, sitting atop the driver's perch, began to delight in the sounds of singing and the smell of smoke from cookfires. Farmers and children hopped onto the cart bed without warning along the way, likely thinking he was one of the passing merchants. Once they entered the fort and the familiar assistant priest, who was overseeing the harvesting and the husking, saw Lawrence and Holo, his eyes went wide with surprise. "I'm sorry to intrude while you're so busy. We came to choose the land for our wheat." The assistant priest gave them an exasperated look, but he had no time to be angry with them. "Pick whichever land you like. And feel free to watch the husking." The offer to watch was a roundabout way for him to ask them to help with the task, and Holo was surprisingly keen. "You may use my horse to help, too." The assistant priest drew up his shoulders and immediately called out to the villagers. Lawrence pretended not to notice the little glare he thought the horse gave him now that it had been saddled with the role of pack animal. When Holo and Lawrence came to the field together, they saw that the harvest had progressed rather far in the fields by the fortress. People were planting stakes in the ground and gathering all the harvested wheat together to be dried. "They only started harvesting yesterday, or the day before, but they've already gathered so much." In the distance they spotted young girls with long pigtails, deftly wielding their massive scythes. Just like when it came to grape stomping for wine-making, harvesting the wheat was the time for the local girls to shine. "Shall we take a little look around?" "It truly does not matter where we go," Holo said, yet she still took Lawrence's hand and set off with light steps. They occasionally took walks together in Nyohhira, but the village was mostly comprised of narrow paths and a steamy haze, and a step out of the village brought them to a deep wood. It was not since their old journey that they had been able to walk the plains with such extensive vistas as this. Holo hummed as she walked, smiling at the sight of bewildered frogs and rabbits that had been chased from their sleeping spots among the wheat. "Should I still see if I can make that fortress ours?" If they were to turn around on their little footpath, they would see said fortress standing dignified atop the hill. They could take leisurely walks along this path whenever they wanted if they lived there. And people would refer to them as lord and lady as a bonus, making it the peak of their progress in life. But Holo cackled, her laugh sounding almost like a cough as her shoulders shuddered, and she brushed off some scraps of straw that clung to her shoulder as she said, "Stone buildings are much too cold for me." "You're right. We're both getting old, anyway." Holo gave him a dubious look and patted his back. "But that rambunctious Myuri would be delighted if we were to make the castle ours." That was their only daughter, who would make swords out of sticks and eagerly pretend to play the hero.

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

"This reminds me of the past." Holo once ruled over the wheat harvest in a village called Pasloe. It was a village Lawrence had frequented for his trade; it had been a lively little place, since a festival was always held around harvest time. Though there was no proper festival held here, it being a fortress meant that the location came equipped with a storehouse and a central square, and so at this time of year, when all the farmers were hard at work, Lawrence had heard that it took on the spirit of a festival in its own right. Some time later, Salonia saw the harvest begin in the area around the fortress. At the same time, wheat that had been harvested a bit earlier was brought in to be husked. Lawrence guessed that it was going to be even livelier than he imagined. That was because song and drink were easily passed around in places of monotonous labor. "Oh ho! Now this is a good festival!" Lawrence smiled as Holo, sitting atop the driver's perch, began to delight in the sounds of singing and the smell of smoke from cookfires. Farmers and children hopped onto the cart bed without warning along the way, likely thinking he was one of the passing merchants. Once they entered the fort and the familiar assistant priest, who was overseeing the harvesting and the husking, saw Lawrence and Holo, his eyes went wide with surprise. "I'm sorry to intrude while you're so busy. We came to choose the land for our wheat." The assistant priest gave them an exasperated look, but he had no time to be angry with them. "Pick whichever land you like. And feel free to watch the husking." The offer to watch was a roundabout way for him to ask them to help with the task, and Holo was surprisingly keen. "You may use my horse to help, too." The assistant priest drew up his shoulders and immediately called out to the villagers. Lawrence pretended not to notice the little glare he thought the horse gave him now that it had been saddled with the role of pack animal. When Holo and Lawrence came to the field together, they saw that the harvest had progressed rather far in the fields by the fortress. People were planting stakes in the ground and gathering all the harvested wheat together to be dried. "They only started harvesting yesterday, or the day before, but they've already gathered so much." In the distance they spotted young girls with long pigtails, deftly wielding their massive scythes. Just like when it came to grape stomping for wine-making, harvesting the wheat was the time for the local girls to shine. "Shall we take a little look around?" "It truly does not matter where we go," Holo said, yet she still took Lawrence's hand and set off with light steps. They occasionally took walks together in Nyohhira, but the village was mostly comprised of narrow paths and a steamy haze, and a step out of the village brought them to a deep wood. It was not since their old journey that they had been able to walk the plains with such extensive vistas as this. Holo hummed as she walked, smiling at the sight of bewildered frogs and rabbits that had been chased from their sleeping spots among the wheat. "Should I still see if I can make that fortress ours?" If they were to turn around on their little footpath, they would see said fortress standing dignified atop the hill. They could take leisurely walks along this path whenever they wanted if they lived there. And people would refer to them as lord and lady as a bonus, making it the peak of their progress in life. But Holo cackled, her laugh sounding almost like a cough as her shoulders shuddered, and she brushed off some scraps of straw that clung to her shoulder as she said, "Stone buildings are much too cold for me." "You're right. We're both getting old, anyway." Holo gave him a dubious look and patted his back. "But that rambunctious Myuri would be delighted if we were to make the castle ours." That was their only daughter, who would make swords out of sticks and eagerly pretend to play the hero.

His daughter, who used to constantly beg for his company, now no longer wanted anything to do with him as she grew. And she was also perfectly old enough for it to be possible that she had gotten married off in a land he knew nothing about. He thought that perhaps he liked it better if they could get this stone fortress for her, so that she could indulge in playing knight to her heart's content. As he seriously considered it, he felt a cold stare on him, and he turned to look at the source. "You fool," Holo said with a sigh. Lawrence looked reluctantly at the fortress one more time, then dropped his shoulders. "You never know when to give up, do you?" "...We have a lot of very nice things because of that, though." "You argue simply to argue." Holo reached out with a small hand to pinch Lawrence's cheek and a delighted smile crossed her face. "And what about here for land?" With the opposite hand, Holo pointed to the corner of one zone. It was beside a small hedgerow, planted there either to alleviate the wind or for firewood, or perhaps even as a way to demarcate the zone. "You think it grows best in places like that?" Lawrence asked, impressed; he was a complete novice when it came to field work. Maybe the leaves that fell in the winter served as good fertilizer. Holo gave a slight shrug. "'Tis simply a spot easy to find." *** Lawrence looked at Holo in mild disappointment, and his wife, once known as the wisewolf, glared at him. "Do not underestimate places that are easy to find. The fields change more than you know. Those who till the land change, too. But markers like those stay the same for decades, centuries. When you found that old map in the castle, you must have found some markers that had not changed for a long time, though the shape of the fields themselves change." "Now that you mention it, we were there when people were arguing over land boundaries along our old journey. We needed your wisdom to solve that one, too." Even if it had been preserved in writing, differences in interpretation and boundaries blurred over the years made for the seed of future dispute. What Holo had proposed to those villagers in order to avoid such conflict in the future was rather violent—to bring their children to the boundary line, and pinch their cheeks as hard as they could. The children would never forget that moment, and it would prove the standard for when they quarreled over the boundary again in the future. That said, they could not drag along a poor local child and pinch their cheeks for an arm width's amount of land, so hedgerows like these served as a good marker. I see, of course she is the wisewolf, the one who rules over wheat, Lawrence thought, but Holo looked up at him with a hard stare. "You made it so the wheat would be sent to Nyohhira for decades—no, centuries to come, yes?" Lawrence had asked the church to send them wheat as part of the landowning rights that they held, not as a bit of thanks. This was where they could use the power of tax history, an unbroken chain recorded since the beginning of the era of humanity, and the method easily kept Holo's longevity, one that far surpassed human lives, in mind. That methodology seemed a bit ridiculous for such a small portion of land, just an armful, but it had been necessary for Lawrence. That was because it was the centuries-old wisewolf, the one that would live much longer than Lawrence himself, the one that looked exactly like the pretty young girl she was when he first met her. Lawrence made it so that the memories of their journey would always reach Holo in Nyohhira in the form of wheat. "You could have picked a better parting gift," she said, patting her hand on his chest. And oddly, Lawrence found comfort in how she always seemed one step ahead. "I can never win with you, can I?" "No, you cannot," she chuckled. Lawrence took her hand and spun her around. "Now then, let's put this zone down on parchment, and help with husking and whatnot in the meanwhile."

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

His daughter, who used to constantly beg for his company, now no longer wanted anything to do with him as she grew. And she was also perfectly old enough for it to be possible that she had gotten married off in a land he knew nothing about. He thought that perhaps he liked it better if they could get this stone fortress for her, so that she could indulge in playing knight to her heart's content. As he seriously considered it, he felt a cold stare on him, and he turned to look at the source. "You fool," Holo said with a sigh. Lawrence looked reluctantly at the fortress one more time, then dropped his shoulders. "You never know when to give up, do you?" "...We have a lot of very nice things because of that, though." "You argue simply to argue." Holo reached out with a small hand to pinch Lawrence's cheek and a delighted smile crossed her face. "And what about here for land?" With the opposite hand, Holo pointed to the corner of one zone. It was beside a small hedgerow, planted there either to alleviate the wind or for firewood, or perhaps even as a way to demarcate the zone. "You think it grows best in places like that?" Lawrence asked, impressed; he was a complete novice when it came to field work. Maybe the leaves that fell in the winter served as good fertilizer. Holo gave a slight shrug. "'Tis simply a spot easy to find." *** Lawrence looked at Holo in mild disappointment, and his wife, once known as the wisewolf, glared at him. "Do not underestimate places that are easy to find. The fields change more than you know. Those who till the land change, too. But markers like those stay the same for decades, centuries. When you found that old map in the castle, you must have found some markers that had not changed for a long time, though the shape of the fields themselves change." "Now that you mention it, we were there when people were arguing over land boundaries along our old journey. We needed your wisdom to solve that one, too." Even if it had been preserved in writing, differences in interpretation and boundaries blurred over the years made for the seed of future dispute. What Holo had proposed to those villagers in order to avoid such conflict in the future was rather violent—to bring their children to the boundary line, and pinch their cheeks as hard as they could. The children would never forget that moment, and it would prove the standard for when they quarreled over the boundary again in the future. That said, they could not drag along a poor local child and pinch their cheeks for an arm width's amount of land, so hedgerows like these served as a good marker. I see, of course she is the wisewolf, the one who rules over wheat, Lawrence thought, but Holo looked up at him with a hard stare. "You made it so the wheat would be sent to Nyohhira for decades—no, centuries to come, yes?" Lawrence had asked the church to send them wheat as part of the landowning rights that they held, not as a bit of thanks. This was where they could use the power of tax history, an unbroken chain recorded since the beginning of the era of humanity, and the method easily kept Holo's longevity, one that far surpassed human lives, in mind. That methodology seemed a bit ridiculous for such a small portion of land, just an armful, but it had been necessary for Lawrence. That was because it was the centuries-old wisewolf, the one that would live much longer than Lawrence himself, the one that looked exactly like the pretty young girl she was when he first met her. Lawrence made it so that the memories of their journey would always reach Holo in Nyohhira in the form of wheat. "You could have picked a better parting gift," she said, patting her hand on his chest. And oddly, Lawrence found comfort in how she always seemed one step ahead. "I can never win with you, can I?" "No, you cannot," she chuckled. Lawrence took her hand and spun her around. "Now then, let's put this zone down on parchment, and help with husking and whatnot in the meanwhile."

"Ah." "Well, if that happened, I suppose I would not mind. We would have to remain in this lively town, and I will simply have to continue drinking." "They're probably going to start asking you to pay if you did that." Holo was famous in Salonia, and her spirited drinking earned her free booze here and there, but she was dangerously close to overstaying her welcome. "All you do is think of stingy profits." "When I think about how much I've spent on alcohol for you, I start to wonder if we should've made a vineyard instead of a bathhouse." "You fool!" Holo took the hand she had intwined with Lawrence's and smacked his back. "Then we would be stuck drinking wine all the time!" What she said did not exactly sound like a joke, so Lawrence had no choice but to stand down. "And all sorts of drinks find their way to Nyohhira," she added. "Everything tastes good whilst soaking in the baths." Elsa would surely scold her again if she heard that, but Lawrence knew he was partially responsible for always treating her to a drink, wanting to see her happy. "We should see if we can find an alcohol spring instead." "'Twould be most ideal, yes." Even though their motives were likely not quite on the same page, Lawrence did not point that out; he only tugged her hand to lead her back to the fortress with a shake of his head. Songs sung as monotonous manual labor was being done were repetitions of easy-to-remember stanzas and melodies. Both Lawrence and Holo quickly learned the tune, took their own tools for husking—two sticks connected together by a string—and joined in the villagers singing as they worked the wheat. Holo had spent centuries in Pasloe, but she only ever helped with the harvest work herself a few times in the distant past; she had simply watched in the times after that. The reason she quickly gave up husking the wheat was less out of boredom and more out of her inherent curiosity—she wanted to see what the other work was like. She joined in with the ones who bit into the harvested wheat to see if it had dried completely and helped out with picking chaff and other contaminants from the wheat in a big washtub. There had been a particular trick to shaking out the washtub, and the other girls there giggled at her as she ended up shaking her hips more than the tub. The harvesting work in the fortress would last for more than one or two days. And so, instead of persevering throughout the entire thing, people often changed jobs or stepped out briefly, giving the sense that they would carry on with this work in a relaxed manner for a long time. Just as Lawrence found himself getting lost in the rhythm of the monotonous work, one of the villagers asked to switch with him, and he reluctantly handed over his husking sticks. "Now, then." He glanced around the area to find Holo missing from the lively castle garden. He asked around and learned that once she was done helping pick out bad-quality grains from a mountain of the wheat, she had gone into the main house. Though it was getting closer to the height of autumn, it was still rather hot when the sun was high in the sky. Lawrence wondered if she had worn herself out and was taking a rest since she had such a terrible hangover the day before. Holo was typically slothful, so she would sometimes push herself too far when it came to work like this and suddenly run out of energy. Despite his worry, Lawrence thought she was likely all right if she had taken a break of her own accord, so he decided to wrap up the matter on the delivery of their goods. He fished out some parchment from their things and made his way into the great room, where the assistant priest was watching over everything. "Have you chosen a field?"

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

"Ah." "Well, if that happened, I suppose I would not mind. We would have to remain in this lively town, and I will simply have to continue drinking." "They're probably going to start asking you to pay if you did that." Holo was famous in Salonia, and her spirited drinking earned her free booze here and there, but she was dangerously close to overstaying her welcome. "All you do is think of stingy profits." "When I think about how much I've spent on alcohol for you, I start to wonder if we should've made a vineyard instead of a bathhouse." "You fool!" Holo took the hand she had intwined with Lawrence's and smacked his back. "Then we would be stuck drinking wine all the time!" What she said did not exactly sound like a joke, so Lawrence had no choice but to stand down. "And all sorts of drinks find their way to Nyohhira," she added. "Everything tastes good whilst soaking in the baths." Elsa would surely scold her again if she heard that, but Lawrence knew he was partially responsible for always treating her to a drink, wanting to see her happy. "We should see if we can find an alcohol spring instead." "'Twould be most ideal, yes." Even though their motives were likely not quite on the same page, Lawrence did not point that out; he only tugged her hand to lead her back to the fortress with a shake of his head. Songs sung as monotonous manual labor was being done were repetitions of easy-to-remember stanzas and melodies. Both Lawrence and Holo quickly learned the tune, took their own tools for husking—two sticks connected together by a string—and joined in the villagers singing as they worked the wheat. Holo had spent centuries in Pasloe, but she only ever helped with the harvest work herself a few times in the distant past; she had simply watched in the times after that. The reason she quickly gave up husking the wheat was less out of boredom and more out of her inherent curiosity—she wanted to see what the other work was like. She joined in with the ones who bit into the harvested wheat to see if it had dried completely and helped out with picking chaff and other contaminants from the wheat in a big washtub. There had been a particular trick to shaking out the washtub, and the other girls there giggled at her as she ended up shaking her hips more than the tub. The harvesting work in the fortress would last for more than one or two days. And so, instead of persevering throughout the entire thing, people often changed jobs or stepped out briefly, giving the sense that they would carry on with this work in a relaxed manner for a long time. Just as Lawrence found himself getting lost in the rhythm of the monotonous work, one of the villagers asked to switch with him, and he reluctantly handed over his husking sticks. "Now, then." He glanced around the area to find Holo missing from the lively castle garden. He asked around and learned that once she was done helping pick out bad-quality grains from a mountain of the wheat, she had gone into the main house. Though it was getting closer to the height of autumn, it was still rather hot when the sun was high in the sky. Lawrence wondered if she had worn herself out and was taking a rest since she had such a terrible hangover the day before. Holo was typically slothful, so she would sometimes push herself too far when it came to work like this and suddenly run out of energy. Despite his worry, Lawrence thought she was likely all right if she had taken a break of her own accord, so he decided to wrap up the matter on the delivery of their goods. He fished out some parchment from their things and made his way into the great room, where the assistant priest was watching over everything. "Have you chosen a field?"

The church in Salonia presently owned the privileges to the land once ruled over by one called the Hero Voragine, but owning those rights did not necessarily mean things would always go smoothly. There was still the matter of managing the day-to-day activities on the land, bringing someone in to manage the harvest period, making sure it was collected for taxes, being conscious of the worst and best of the harvest, and trying to avoid being scammed or subject to any injustices. The assistant priest, who seemed to have been left in charge of all those things, had been very kind to Lawrence and his entourage when they came to visit in relation to the tariff troubles. That was perhaps because he had been hoping to hand off some of the work to Lawrence, but when he saw just how exhausted he looked, he had a feeling that might happen. "Yes, we found a nice spot, so I came to inform you." Aside from the board, where the assistant priest had written down reports that came in from the villagers and the apprentice clergy boys diligently copied the sheer volume of numbers down onto paper, there was a rough map of the territory drawn in charcoal, and Lawrence pointed to it. "The field right next to the first shrubs southwest from the fortress." "There, yes. I'm glad you picked a spot easy to find. All the quarrelling over zone divisions causes us headaches throughout the year." The easy-to-find point that Holo had indicated had apparently been very important. The assistant priest took two of the deeds the bishop had given Lawrence, then turned to the apprentice clergy boy and named several villagers and ordered him to write down a zone about a pace wide where those villagers' locations intersected. "These privileges become yours in God's name." The assistant priest looked between the two pieces of parchment and handed one back to Lawrence as he spoke. "Glory be to God," Lawrence said. The assistant priest exhaled in a way that could be either taken as a sigh or a sign of agreement, then rolled his head around his neck and shoulders. "Thank you for all of your hard work," Lawrence added. "I wish I could have taken a dip in the hot springs you built in Salonia." "You're always welcome at our bathhouse," Lawrence said with a smile. The assistant priest grimaced. "Aren't the hot springs in Nyohhira supposed to be a secret? I heard only archbishops are allowed there." "That's a bit of an exaggeration. But even if it were true, then I suppose we would be welcoming you in the near future." Though he was young, the assistant priest was canny enough to grow a beard to give himself a mature and dignified air. His lips stretched into a grin under his messy whiskers. "I will be sure to send the wheat your way every year." "You have my thanks." Lawrence was certain this assistant priest would reach great heights and become a regular at their bathhouse. As that thought crossed his mind, he rolled up the parchment and tucked it away in his pocket. "Where has your wife gone, by the way? Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" The assistant priest seemed keen to offer they stay here for the night, but as they stood here speaking, there was a line outside the door of people waiting to report to him. Lawrence replied briefly, "We're hoping to leave before sunset and follow the river downstream." "I see. Lovely." The smile on his face suggested he was relieved there was one less thing he had to worry about on his plate. "Thank you." Lawrence gave a nod, which the assistant priest returned with a polite bow, and he was already back into work mode. Lawrence left the great room, sliding past all the people waiting in line, then planted his hands on his hips with a sigh. "Now, where has that Holo gone?" The old fortress was not small by any means. Though the sun was still high in the sky, the light did not reach the depths of the building, and a dreary ambiance settled in the darkest corners.

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

The church in Salonia presently owned the privileges to the land once ruled over by one called the Hero Voragine, but owning those rights did not necessarily mean things would always go smoothly. There was still the matter of managing the day-to-day activities on the land, bringing someone in to manage the harvest period, making sure it was collected for taxes, being conscious of the worst and best of the harvest, and trying to avoid being scammed or subject to any injustices. The assistant priest, who seemed to have been left in charge of all those things, had been very kind to Lawrence and his entourage when they came to visit in relation to the tariff troubles. That was perhaps because he had been hoping to hand off some of the work to Lawrence, but when he saw just how exhausted he looked, he had a feeling that might happen. "Yes, we found a nice spot, so I came to inform you." Aside from the board, where the assistant priest had written down reports that came in from the villagers and the apprentice clergy boys diligently copied the sheer volume of numbers down onto paper, there was a rough map of the territory drawn in charcoal, and Lawrence pointed to it. "The field right next to the first shrubs southwest from the fortress." "There, yes. I'm glad you picked a spot easy to find. All the quarrelling over zone divisions causes us headaches throughout the year." The easy-to-find point that Holo had indicated had apparently been very important. The assistant priest took two of the deeds the bishop had given Lawrence, then turned to the apprentice clergy boy and named several villagers and ordered him to write down a zone about a pace wide where those villagers' locations intersected. "These privileges become yours in God's name." The assistant priest looked between the two pieces of parchment and handed one back to Lawrence as he spoke. "Glory be to God," Lawrence said. The assistant priest exhaled in a way that could be either taken as a sigh or a sign of agreement, then rolled his head around his neck and shoulders. "Thank you for all of your hard work," Lawrence added. "I wish I could have taken a dip in the hot springs you built in Salonia." "You're always welcome at our bathhouse," Lawrence said with a smile. The assistant priest grimaced. "Aren't the hot springs in Nyohhira supposed to be a secret? I heard only archbishops are allowed there." "That's a bit of an exaggeration. But even if it were true, then I suppose we would be welcoming you in the near future." Though he was young, the assistant priest was canny enough to grow a beard to give himself a mature and dignified air. His lips stretched into a grin under his messy whiskers. "I will be sure to send the wheat your way every year." "You have my thanks." Lawrence was certain this assistant priest would reach great heights and become a regular at their bathhouse. As that thought crossed his mind, he rolled up the parchment and tucked it away in his pocket. "Where has your wife gone, by the way? Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" The assistant priest seemed keen to offer they stay here for the night, but as they stood here speaking, there was a line outside the door of people waiting to report to him. Lawrence replied briefly, "We're hoping to leave before sunset and follow the river downstream." "I see. Lovely." The smile on his face suggested he was relieved there was one less thing he had to worry about on his plate. "Thank you." Lawrence gave a nod, which the assistant priest returned with a polite bow, and he was already back into work mode. Lawrence left the great room, sliding past all the people waiting in line, then planted his hands on his hips with a sigh. "Now, where has that Holo gone?" The old fortress was not small by any means. Though the sun was still high in the sky, the light did not reach the depths of the building, and a dreary ambiance settled in the darkest corners.

Lawrence had brought Holo to the lively harvesting work area so that she would not be suddenly overwhelmed by the gaping hole left by the busy and exciting time spent with Elsa and Tanya. Jumping from the roof of a five-story building would surely cause great bodily harm, but jumping down to the four-story building next door, then to the three-story one, then the two-story storehouse and then onto the street would make it possible to walk home. He thought it would be nice to take a breather with the lively harvest workers, then return to the river and take a boat downstream. They would be awash in the lively atmosphere—not just the shanties sung by the captain, but calls from those pulling the boat downstream, and excited greetings from those traversing the roads that ran alongside the river. There were also regular checkpoints built along the river, so they would surely find vendors in those places. And then, once they came to the port on the sea at the mouth of the river, that would provide even further relief. Elsa would surely tell Lawrence that he was coddling Holo again, but he believed it was his life's work to do whatever he could to help her. And as of late, Lawrence had grown fond of her demure squirming as he catered to her needs. He searched the building with those thoughts in mind, and eventually heard that Holo had ventured into the third-floor storage area with a mug of booze in hand. He passed the women sitting around the hearth on the second floor doing the mending, stepped through men who were reattaching polished scythe blades to their handles, weaved through children sitting on the stairs, picking out whatever looked edible from the poor-quality grains, and headed for the third floor. There were plenty of people busily going to and fro on the third floor, lending to a constant buzz throughout the area; Lawrence doubted she was here moping. But as he wandered, lost, not sure exactly where the storage room was, he saw four men emerge carrying a pot meant for making food for all the people who had come to work—it was big enough for a fully-grown adult to use as a bath. Behind them was Holo, a stack of three pots on her head and a spoon large enough to hold a baby under her left arm. "...What are you doing?" Lawrence's eyes widened when he saw her peculiar dress; if someone told him that she was wearing a costume for a festival, he would believe them. Holo, carrying herself in a strange fashion so that the pots on her head would not fall, jerked her chin toward the storage room. "Do not just stand there. The spears for roasting the meat are in there. Bring them out. Put all the firewood and charcoal you can find into the tub!" That was all Holo said to him as she followed the men carrying the large pot, making sure the ones on her head didn't topple over. Sitting by the door to the storage was a half-drunk mug of ale; she had likely been resting there when the men came by, and so she had jumped back into work. The reason she was so enthused was likely because she was expecting to get a tasty meal out of it. He had fully assumed she would be sitting by a window or in a dark corner of the storage room, so he was relieved to see that this was not the case. He did as he was told and carried as much as he could bear down the stairs. Merchants who came while the villagers were working, aiming to purchase this year's wheat at its peak, also came by, and the alcohol and meat they brought made their lunch break feel just like a mini festival. A whole pig had been skewered and was being roasted over a makeshift stove in the garden. Thick plumes of smoke billowed into the air whenever a drop of fat landed on the hot coals and wafted over the people as they sliced off thin pieces with a knife as big as an adult's arm. The meat was then messily placed on some bread and handed around to the others. Holo, soot staining her cheek, added plenty of mustard onto one of the smoky pieces of pork before biting into it.

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

Lawrence had brought Holo to the lively harvesting work area so that she would not be suddenly overwhelmed by the gaping hole left by the busy and exciting time spent with Elsa and Tanya. Jumping from the roof of a five-story building would surely cause great bodily harm, but jumping down to the four-story building next door, then to the three-story one, then the two-story storehouse and then onto the street would make it possible to walk home. He thought it would be nice to take a breather with the lively harvest workers, then return to the river and take a boat downstream. They would be awash in the lively atmosphere—not just the shanties sung by the captain, but calls from those pulling the boat downstream, and excited greetings from those traversing the roads that ran alongside the river. There were also regular checkpoints built along the river, so they would surely find vendors in those places. And then, once they came to the port on the sea at the mouth of the river, that would provide even further relief. Elsa would surely tell Lawrence that he was coddling Holo again, but he believed it was his life's work to do whatever he could to help her. And as of late, Lawrence had grown fond of her demure squirming as he catered to her needs. He searched the building with those thoughts in mind, and eventually heard that Holo had ventured into the third-floor storage area with a mug of booze in hand. He passed the women sitting around the hearth on the second floor doing the mending, stepped through men who were reattaching polished scythe blades to their handles, weaved through children sitting on the stairs, picking out whatever looked edible from the poor-quality grains, and headed for the third floor. There were plenty of people busily going to and fro on the third floor, lending to a constant buzz throughout the area; Lawrence doubted she was here moping. But as he wandered, lost, not sure exactly where the storage room was, he saw four men emerge carrying a pot meant for making food for all the people who had come to work—it was big enough for a fully-grown adult to use as a bath. Behind them was Holo, a stack of three pots on her head and a spoon large enough to hold a baby under her left arm. "...What are you doing?" Lawrence's eyes widened when he saw her peculiar dress; if someone told him that she was wearing a costume for a festival, he would believe them. Holo, carrying herself in a strange fashion so that the pots on her head would not fall, jerked her chin toward the storage room. "Do not just stand there. The spears for roasting the meat are in there. Bring them out. Put all the firewood and charcoal you can find into the tub!" That was all Holo said to him as she followed the men carrying the large pot, making sure the ones on her head didn't topple over. Sitting by the door to the storage was a half-drunk mug of ale; she had likely been resting there when the men came by, and so she had jumped back into work. The reason she was so enthused was likely because she was expecting to get a tasty meal out of it. He had fully assumed she would be sitting by a window or in a dark corner of the storage room, so he was relieved to see that this was not the case. He did as he was told and carried as much as he could bear down the stairs. Merchants who came while the villagers were working, aiming to purchase this year's wheat at its peak, also came by, and the alcohol and meat they brought made their lunch break feel just like a mini festival. A whole pig had been skewered and was being roasted over a makeshift stove in the garden. Thick plumes of smoke billowed into the air whenever a drop of fat landed on the hot coals and wafted over the people as they sliced off thin pieces with a knife as big as an adult's arm. The meat was then messily placed on some bread and handed around to the others. Holo, soot staining her cheek, added plenty of mustard onto one of the smoky pieces of pork before biting into it.

Lawrence used his own finger to wipe the soot from her cheek, and bit into his own portion. So much meat had been shaved off the pig, yet despite the fact that it had been worked nearly down to the bone, it kept spinning above the smoldering coals. It was then that Lawrence took his horse's reins in hand, nudged a reluctant Holo, and they left the fortress together. Outside the fortress were people lying in the grass, taking a break after their meal, and children chasing away the birds that had come in search of grains of wheat that had not quite made it to the fortress with peals of laughter. Holo was lying down not on the driver's perch, but in the cart bed. She basked in the sun as it still hung high in the sky, her ears flitting about, listening to the commotion, and patted her stomach in satisfaction. "Don't fall asleep yet," Lawrence said as he drove the cart forward. "Fool," came the quiet reply, but her speech was already mumbled. "Yaaawn... Where are we going now?" She was still lying down as she spoke. She was clearly ready to fall asleep. With a shrug, Lawrence replied, "We'll head back to the river near town and take a boat downstream." "Mm..." "You can sleep once we get on the boat. Try to stay awake until we get there. I'd hate for you to fall into the river because you nodded off." He didn't hear her call him a fool, so he glanced over his shoulder to see she had curled up and was sleeping soundly. "My goodness," he said with a small smile, readjusting the grip on the reins and urging the cart forward. Everything had gone according to plan so far. He hid that thought beneath his smile as they traversed the road they came in on, and when they arrived at the river port, Holo woke up in a better mood than he thought. "Ah, what excellent horsemanship," Holo remarked. She spoke up after stepping on board the boat because she was impressed by the skill of the rider that would be delivering the horses of all the boat's passengers downstream. There were about ten horses in total, and the rider had them dashing ahead. "Will we be retrieving the cart on the way back?" She glanced back at the boat tied to the back of the boat they were presently riding on and asked Lawrence. That particular boat was filled with their belongings, not the cart itself. "No. We'll be hitting up a port town once we reach the end of the river, and we'll be able to get the same kind of cart when we get there. It costs a lot of money to bring it with us, you see." "Mm. You are clever, as always. How convenient." It was likely because he had money orders in mind—something that let a person walk around without any coins in their pocket—which led him to think of something similar. "Oh, right. I need to tell you something. Just in case the boat tips over." "Hmm?" "I don't care if we lose the sulfur and whatever else. Just don't ever let go of this bag, okay?' One bag, purposely separated from the others on the cart, now sat at Lawrence's and Holo's feet. Inside was a pouch stuffed full of small coins they had gotten in Salonia. "You fool. I will not sink to the bottom of the river with such a thing. If the boat tips over, we should try to save this instead," Holo said, patting a small barrel. It was whisky they had gotten a significant discount for in Salonia—the drink had been nicknamed fire water. "We will be able to reach port without drowning if we drink the contents and hold onto it, no?" "...So long as you don't black out." "Water is essential for sobering up." Despite his exasperation, Lawrence decided he would quite enjoy seeing Holo drifting happily down the river. "Right, well, we're off." "Mm."

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

Lawrence used his own finger to wipe the soot from her cheek, and bit into his own portion. So much meat had been shaved off the pig, yet despite the fact that it had been worked nearly down to the bone, it kept spinning above the smoldering coals. It was then that Lawrence took his horse's reins in hand, nudged a reluctant Holo, and they left the fortress together. Outside the fortress were people lying in the grass, taking a break after their meal, and children chasing away the birds that had come in search of grains of wheat that had not quite made it to the fortress with peals of laughter. Holo was lying down not on the driver's perch, but in the cart bed. She basked in the sun as it still hung high in the sky, her ears flitting about, listening to the commotion, and patted her stomach in satisfaction. "Don't fall asleep yet," Lawrence said as he drove the cart forward. "Fool," came the quiet reply, but her speech was already mumbled. "Yaaawn... Where are we going now?" She was still lying down as she spoke. She was clearly ready to fall asleep. With a shrug, Lawrence replied, "We'll head back to the river near town and take a boat downstream." "Mm..." "You can sleep once we get on the boat. Try to stay awake until we get there. I'd hate for you to fall into the river because you nodded off." He didn't hear her call him a fool, so he glanced over his shoulder to see she had curled up and was sleeping soundly. "My goodness," he said with a small smile, readjusting the grip on the reins and urging the cart forward. Everything had gone according to plan so far. He hid that thought beneath his smile as they traversed the road they came in on, and when they arrived at the river port, Holo woke up in a better mood than he thought. "Ah, what excellent horsemanship," Holo remarked. She spoke up after stepping on board the boat because she was impressed by the skill of the rider that would be delivering the horses of all the boat's passengers downstream. There were about ten horses in total, and the rider had them dashing ahead. "Will we be retrieving the cart on the way back?" She glanced back at the boat tied to the back of the boat they were presently riding on and asked Lawrence. That particular boat was filled with their belongings, not the cart itself. "No. We'll be hitting up a port town once we reach the end of the river, and we'll be able to get the same kind of cart when we get there. It costs a lot of money to bring it with us, you see." "Mm. You are clever, as always. How convenient." It was likely because he had money orders in mind—something that let a person walk around without any coins in their pocket—which led him to think of something similar. "Oh, right. I need to tell you something. Just in case the boat tips over." "Hmm?" "I don't care if we lose the sulfur and whatever else. Just don't ever let go of this bag, okay?' One bag, purposely separated from the others on the cart, now sat at Lawrence's and Holo's feet. Inside was a pouch stuffed full of small coins they had gotten in Salonia. "You fool. I will not sink to the bottom of the river with such a thing. If the boat tips over, we should try to save this instead," Holo said, patting a small barrel. It was whisky they had gotten a significant discount for in Salonia—the drink had been nicknamed fire water. "We will be able to reach port without drowning if we drink the contents and hold onto it, no?" "...So long as you don't black out." "Water is essential for sobering up." Despite his exasperation, Lawrence decided he would quite enjoy seeing Holo drifting happily down the river. "Right, well, we're off." "Mm."

As he thought back on how different things were now compared to when he was a traveling merchant before meeting Holo, he could not help the smile that crossed his face. "What is it?" They sat on a thick blanket of wool, Holo nestled between Lawrence's legs, ready to fall asleep at any moment, and she felt him laugh on her back, and so she asked. "I was just thinking about how luxurious our journey has been." Holo's reddish-amber eyes went wide before creating half-moons to complement her contented smile. "Journeys such as this one suit me best." "Indeed." He placed his hand on her head, and she rubbed her head against it, demanding that he pet her more. Her wolf's dignity was nowhere to be found. The weather was nice, and since it had not rained in quite a while, the river was calm and gently carried the boats downstream. The afternoon sun was warm, the faint song of the boatman filled the air around them, and the lively working sounds of those in the fields along the river were a gentle tickle in the ear. While this indulgence was rather different from the excitement of a roaring fire, it was accompanied by a joy that came with traveling—much like eating one ripe grape at a time and savoring each bite. Holo soon fell asleep again, her lips occasionally moving with leisure as she dreamed. Lawrence wanted to say that everything was going as planned, but after they drifted for a while down the river, he realized that the boat was moving a lot slower than he had anticipated. He started to worry that they wouldn't reach the coast by nightfall; when he asked the boatman, the boatman explained that they would have had to take an early-morning boat in order to reach the port by evening, and that the only boats departing after noon that could make the journey were ones during melt season, or when it had rained upstream. The boatman suggested they get a room at an inn in the large checkpoint just before they reach the sea. Holo would surely assume that the body of water she saw when she awoke was the ocean, meaning she might scold him for his poor judgment. But he could not change the flow of the river, and the boatman told him that the checkpoint at which they planned on mooring was a rather lively river port, so Lawrence adjusted his expectations—perhaps it was not all that bad to spend the night at a nice riverside inn. Warmed by the sun, Lawrence took Holo, her soot smell and all, into his embrace and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, it was sundown. They were still on the river when they awoke, so Holo gave Lawrence an earful, just as he expected, yet she watched over the buzz of activity unique to the river port with delight. Lawrence took only their valuables from the ship, such as the pouch full of coins, had a branch from one of Salonia's companies watch after their things, and secured a room for himself and Holo in the meantime. Rumors of their exploits had reached the port already, so that had been easy. There seemed to still be quite a bit of distance to the ocean; so when he turned west, to where the ocean was supposed to be, Lawrence found himself faced with a terrifyingly vast open sky, a sensation only amplified by the featureless geography. The clear indigo of the night sky mixing with the fiery sunset was a stunning sight. As they sat at one of the riverside taverns, Holo had been so entranced by it that she almost forgot to drink any of the ale she had been served. One could see a similar sight in Nyohhira by climbing to the top of a mountain, but being so close to the sea, which was essentially nothingness, the sky most certainly felt much bigger. In previous travels, both Lawrence and Holo had gotten to see the sea, but the scenery changed with the time and place. Surely, once they reached the end of the river and came to the port, the sun setting over the sea would look much different from this.

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

As he thought back on how different things were now compared to when he was a traveling merchant before meeting Holo, he could not help the smile that crossed his face. "What is it?" They sat on a thick blanket of wool, Holo nestled between Lawrence's legs, ready to fall asleep at any moment, and she felt him laugh on her back, and so she asked. "I was just thinking about how luxurious our journey has been." Holo's reddish-amber eyes went wide before creating half-moons to complement her contented smile. "Journeys such as this one suit me best." "Indeed." He placed his hand on her head, and she rubbed her head against it, demanding that he pet her more. Her wolf's dignity was nowhere to be found. The weather was nice, and since it had not rained in quite a while, the river was calm and gently carried the boats downstream. The afternoon sun was warm, the faint song of the boatman filled the air around them, and the lively working sounds of those in the fields along the river were a gentle tickle in the ear. While this indulgence was rather different from the excitement of a roaring fire, it was accompanied by a joy that came with traveling—much like eating one ripe grape at a time and savoring each bite. Holo soon fell asleep again, her lips occasionally moving with leisure as she dreamed. Lawrence wanted to say that everything was going as planned, but after they drifted for a while down the river, he realized that the boat was moving a lot slower than he had anticipated. He started to worry that they wouldn't reach the coast by nightfall; when he asked the boatman, the boatman explained that they would have had to take an early-morning boat in order to reach the port by evening, and that the only boats departing after noon that could make the journey were ones during melt season, or when it had rained upstream. The boatman suggested they get a room at an inn in the large checkpoint just before they reach the sea. Holo would surely assume that the body of water she saw when she awoke was the ocean, meaning she might scold him for his poor judgment. But he could not change the flow of the river, and the boatman told him that the checkpoint at which they planned on mooring was a rather lively river port, so Lawrence adjusted his expectations—perhaps it was not all that bad to spend the night at a nice riverside inn. Warmed by the sun, Lawrence took Holo, her soot smell and all, into his embrace and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, it was sundown. They were still on the river when they awoke, so Holo gave Lawrence an earful, just as he expected, yet she watched over the buzz of activity unique to the river port with delight. Lawrence took only their valuables from the ship, such as the pouch full of coins, had a branch from one of Salonia's companies watch after their things, and secured a room for himself and Holo in the meantime. Rumors of their exploits had reached the port already, so that had been easy. There seemed to still be quite a bit of distance to the ocean; so when he turned west, to where the ocean was supposed to be, Lawrence found himself faced with a terrifyingly vast open sky, a sensation only amplified by the featureless geography. The clear indigo of the night sky mixing with the fiery sunset was a stunning sight. As they sat at one of the riverside taverns, Holo had been so entranced by it that she almost forgot to drink any of the ale she had been served. One could see a similar sight in Nyohhira by climbing to the top of a mountain, but being so close to the sea, which was essentially nothingness, the sky most certainly felt much bigger. In previous travels, both Lawrence and Holo had gotten to see the sea, but the scenery changed with the time and place. Surely, once they reached the end of the river and came to the port, the sun setting over the sea would look much different from this.

The way she looked made her seem entirely defenseless, as though every layer of her heart, right down to the thin film around her core, had been peeled away. It was a strange expression—one that was not quite sad, yet hard to call optimistic—and Lawrence was certain that he would never be able to understand the feelings behind it. Those emotions belonged only to those who had lived for centuries, only when experiencing a sight that had not changed in hundreds of years. And Lawrence had a feeling, too, that they were not happy feelings for her. All he could do at times like these was just stay by her side and understand the plan he had painstakingly laid out to bring Holo joy was nothing before the overwhelming forces of nature. He stared at the smudge on the table, created by a tear that had suddenly spilled from Holo's expressionless eyes, as he swallowed the tender, salty meat of his trout. The only reason he could still taste it was not only because he knew how to show his understanding for the world's providence after becoming an adult. It was because now that his life was half over, he was starting to accept—reluctantly in defeat, even—that in the face of the immutable truths of the world, one could not stand one's ground, only let the flow take over. "Your fish is getting cold," Lawrence said again, though not out of concern. It was his way of showing defiance in the face of the flow of the immutable truths of the world. Holo, standing in a perfectly still, mirror-like lake, could only find the shore by the help of those who boldly stepped in and caused ripples. Though there was still some distance to the shore, when she turned to look at Lawrence, a relieved smile crossed her face. "Yes, it smells good. 'Twould be a waste to let it go cold." There were glimpses of unease behind Holo's expression, like she was taking in the scent in a dream. But when she, at last, hesitantly bit into her fish, she finally understood that this was not a dream. "I think they'll be playing music soon." Lawrence gestured with his chin to an open stall by the river, where some traveling musicians were preparing their instruments to busk. At the checkpoint, visible from where they sat, boats came in one after the other, and out of them came a stream of people on land eager to end their day with a cold pint. Unlike cities encased in walls, the rules in riverside ports were lax. As he looked out at the lack of open seats, he could easily imagine how the lively chatter lasted well into the night every day. "The fun's just beginning," Lawrence said. Holo, consuming half her trout in a single bite, head-first, guts and all, looked up at him as the bones crunched between her teeth. After swallowing, she devoured the rest of the fish with her second bite and licked her lips. "I'm going to burp," she said. Lawrence frowned at her, and she gave him an ironic, lopsided grin before pointing her skewer at him. "Not because of the fish. Because of you." Before Lawrence could ask what she meant, Holo took a large swig of ale, placed her wooden mug down on the table with a satisfied hum, and immediately ordered more. "Of course 'tis because of you," she repeated, and finally belched loudly in quite an unladylike fashion. Truly satisfied, as though she had managed to dislodge a bone from her throat, she turned to look at him. "I spend all my days subject to your doting, and then I find that those days have come to an end." Holo reached for a new trout skewer, bringing it up to her lips in a kiss, then mercilessly bit into it. "Thus begins again a journey of two lonely people." Despite how packed her cheeks were with fish, she didn't let a single morsel spill out. After a gulp, she brought up some more ale to her lips.

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

The way she looked made her seem entirely defenseless, as though every layer of her heart, right down to the thin film around her core, had been peeled away. It was a strange expression—one that was not quite sad, yet hard to call optimistic—and Lawrence was certain that he would never be able to understand the feelings behind it. Those emotions belonged only to those who had lived for centuries, only when experiencing a sight that had not changed in hundreds of years. And Lawrence had a feeling, too, that they were not happy feelings for her. All he could do at times like these was just stay by her side and understand the plan he had painstakingly laid out to bring Holo joy was nothing before the overwhelming forces of nature. He stared at the smudge on the table, created by a tear that had suddenly spilled from Holo's expressionless eyes, as he swallowed the tender, salty meat of his trout. The only reason he could still taste it was not only because he knew how to show his understanding for the world's providence after becoming an adult. It was because now that his life was half over, he was starting to accept—reluctantly in defeat, even—that in the face of the immutable truths of the world, one could not stand one's ground, only let the flow take over. "Your fish is getting cold," Lawrence said again, though not out of concern. It was his way of showing defiance in the face of the flow of the immutable truths of the world. Holo, standing in a perfectly still, mirror-like lake, could only find the shore by the help of those who boldly stepped in and caused ripples. Though there was still some distance to the shore, when she turned to look at Lawrence, a relieved smile crossed her face. "Yes, it smells good. 'Twould be a waste to let it go cold." There were glimpses of unease behind Holo's expression, like she was taking in the scent in a dream. But when she, at last, hesitantly bit into her fish, she finally understood that this was not a dream. "I think they'll be playing music soon." Lawrence gestured with his chin to an open stall by the river, where some traveling musicians were preparing their instruments to busk. At the checkpoint, visible from where they sat, boats came in one after the other, and out of them came a stream of people on land eager to end their day with a cold pint. Unlike cities encased in walls, the rules in riverside ports were lax. As he looked out at the lack of open seats, he could easily imagine how the lively chatter lasted well into the night every day. "The fun's just beginning," Lawrence said. Holo, consuming half her trout in a single bite, head-first, guts and all, looked up at him as the bones crunched between her teeth. After swallowing, she devoured the rest of the fish with her second bite and licked her lips. "I'm going to burp," she said. Lawrence frowned at her, and she gave him an ironic, lopsided grin before pointing her skewer at him. "Not because of the fish. Because of you." Before Lawrence could ask what she meant, Holo took a large swig of ale, placed her wooden mug down on the table with a satisfied hum, and immediately ordered more. "Of course 'tis because of you," she repeated, and finally belched loudly in quite an unladylike fashion. Truly satisfied, as though she had managed to dislodge a bone from her throat, she turned to look at him. "I spend all my days subject to your doting, and then I find that those days have come to an end." Holo reached for a new trout skewer, bringing it up to her lips in a kiss, then mercilessly bit into it. "Thus begins again a journey of two lonely people." Despite how packed her cheeks were with fish, she didn't let a single morsel spill out. After a gulp, she brought up some more ale to her lips.

Holo smiled, genuinely delighted, before letting out a sigh. When she turned to look back at the sky, the final vestiges of the setting sun threatening to be swallowed by night, her face was no longer expressionless. "I know you are doting on me because you are worried, giving me constant joy in our travels so that I do not succumb to despair." Her eyelids lowered, then shut as she tilted her head, fondly reliving her memories, before opening her eyes again. "And what joy does it bring me. Even the ones that do not quite hit their mark and make me irritated." Lawrence raised his hands in an admission of defeat, and Holo nodded to him like a benevolent queen. "Every day I travel with you is a joy, thanks to that. But 'tis strange, because I find the dull moments just as delightful." "Uh...hmm?" Lawrence murmured in response, and Holo asked a passing tavern girl for more meat. "I never noticed it when we were in the bathhouse, much less when I first met you." Holo placed the skewer in her mouth and began nibbling on it. "Even the sadness, the loneliness, the overwhelming pain I feel in the quiet moments between journeys brings me joy." "That's, um...huh?" Holo gave a shy smile in response to Lawrence's bewilderment. "Isn't it strange? What is sad is sad, and what is painful is painful, but all the ups and downs, and even the depths of the abyss, where I sit with my knees to my chest—I find delight in it all." She was clearly not saying this to bring Lawrence peace of mind, so he could only watch her, completely blank faced. Pork sausage was brought to their table, and Holo surprisingly cut Lawrence a piece, so he slowly brought it to his mouth. The bursting fat was sweet, and he found himself desperately wanting a sip of ale. "'Twas only after meeting you that I learned to enjoy everything life has to offer, I think," she said, biting into the sausage with an innocence that rivaled her daughter, Myuri. "I suppose 'tis like finding bitter ale delicious. So...mm. I will not tell you to stop doting on me. In a way, by marrying me, you made a promise to dote on me for the rest of your life." Despite how bluntly she spoke the words, having her state it in such a clear manner only made the former merchant happy, considering how he understood the joy in another keeping to a contract. "And so, I have a request for you. Days filled with joy do bring me joy, yes, but I want to feel the full range of sadness when I am by your side, as well. I want to enjoy whatever emotion comes to me when our exciting days spent with that vexing girl and the fluffy, annoying squirrel suddenly come to an end. I want to find delight in sadness that has no outlet, in finding a spot to sulk and mope." That seemed unhealthy to Lawrence, but what told him it was not was how he saw the minstrels finish tuning their instruments. Each headed for different taverns—their own territory, presumably—greeted the customers, and began taking song requests. At some point in his travels, Lawrence had learned one thing: Songs played for money were not meant to rile up a crowd—they were sad tunes. "Because I know I am safe when I cry beside you." Living was not a series of constant joys. But that did not mean it was pain that constantly plagued faulty people, as the clergy spoke of it. Having both joy and despair at opposite ends of the spectrum meant that they could find delight in the world in all different shades and hues. "Shall we request a song?" Holo called the minstrel over and jerked her chin at Lawrence. Lawrence, completely at Holo's whim, hurriedly pulled out some coins and placed them in the minstrel's hand. "What sort of tune shall I play for you?" This minstrel was unlike the ones who came to Nyohhira—he was on the shifty side, quite possibly the type to commit petty thievery. Holo said to the minstrel, "Play us the most upbeat tune you have. One that will deafen me." The minstrel's eyes widened in surprise before a dauntless smile crossed his face.

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

Holo smiled, genuinely delighted, before letting out a sigh. When she turned to look back at the sky, the final vestiges of the setting sun threatening to be swallowed by night, her face was no longer expressionless. "I know you are doting on me because you are worried, giving me constant joy in our travels so that I do not succumb to despair." Her eyelids lowered, then shut as she tilted her head, fondly reliving her memories, before opening her eyes again. "And what joy does it bring me. Even the ones that do not quite hit their mark and make me irritated." Lawrence raised his hands in an admission of defeat, and Holo nodded to him like a benevolent queen. "Every day I travel with you is a joy, thanks to that. But 'tis strange, because I find the dull moments just as delightful." "Uh...hmm?" Lawrence murmured in response, and Holo asked a passing tavern girl for more meat. "I never noticed it when we were in the bathhouse, much less when I first met you." Holo placed the skewer in her mouth and began nibbling on it. "Even the sadness, the loneliness, the overwhelming pain I feel in the quiet moments between journeys brings me joy." "That's, um...huh?" Holo gave a shy smile in response to Lawrence's bewilderment. "Isn't it strange? What is sad is sad, and what is painful is painful, but all the ups and downs, and even the depths of the abyss, where I sit with my knees to my chest—I find delight in it all." She was clearly not saying this to bring Lawrence peace of mind, so he could only watch her, completely blank faced. Pork sausage was brought to their table, and Holo surprisingly cut Lawrence a piece, so he slowly brought it to his mouth. The bursting fat was sweet, and he found himself desperately wanting a sip of ale. "'Twas only after meeting you that I learned to enjoy everything life has to offer, I think," she said, biting into the sausage with an innocence that rivaled her daughter, Myuri. "I suppose 'tis like finding bitter ale delicious. So...mm. I will not tell you to stop doting on me. In a way, by marrying me, you made a promise to dote on me for the rest of your life." Despite how bluntly she spoke the words, having her state it in such a clear manner only made the former merchant happy, considering how he understood the joy in another keeping to a contract. "And so, I have a request for you. Days filled with joy do bring me joy, yes, but I want to feel the full range of sadness when I am by your side, as well. I want to enjoy whatever emotion comes to me when our exciting days spent with that vexing girl and the fluffy, annoying squirrel suddenly come to an end. I want to find delight in sadness that has no outlet, in finding a spot to sulk and mope." That seemed unhealthy to Lawrence, but what told him it was not was how he saw the minstrels finish tuning their instruments. Each headed for different taverns—their own territory, presumably—greeted the customers, and began taking song requests. At some point in his travels, Lawrence had learned one thing: Songs played for money were not meant to rile up a crowd—they were sad tunes. "Because I know I am safe when I cry beside you." Living was not a series of constant joys. But that did not mean it was pain that constantly plagued faulty people, as the clergy spoke of it. Having both joy and despair at opposite ends of the spectrum meant that they could find delight in the world in all different shades and hues. "Shall we request a song?" Holo called the minstrel over and jerked her chin at Lawrence. Lawrence, completely at Holo's whim, hurriedly pulled out some coins and placed them in the minstrel's hand. "What sort of tune shall I play for you?" This minstrel was unlike the ones who came to Nyohhira—he was on the shifty side, quite possibly the type to commit petty thievery. Holo said to the minstrel, "Play us the most upbeat tune you have. One that will deafen me." The minstrel's eyes widened in surprise before a dauntless smile crossed his face.

Fortunately, a crowd of sailors had just thronged into the tavern. It was the perfect opportunity to spark the crowd. "Lend me your ears! This tune will be the envy of legends!" He strummed his instrument, and the customers turned to look. When he began to stomp his feet, the excitable members of the crowd began to join in. There was visible concern on a serving girl's face. She was likely worried about whether or not the platform over the river would hold. The stakes that sprouted from the river began to creak under the pressure, causing little ripples in the water. As the raucous uproar grew, Lawrence and Holo instead found a quiet moment between them. "I believe my ears will be ringing by the time we go to sleep tonight," Lawrence said, exhausted. "What? The one thing I can find no joy in is a hangover," replied Holo calmly. Lawrence shot her a look—perhaps she need not drink so much, then. But she gave him a pure smile and tilted her head; she deliberately downed her ale before asking for another mug. Lawrence and Holo's journey would continue. The hour would grow late, and no matter how cold the wind blew, they would not be alone. And the sun would rise in the east, yet again, on the morrow. *** Hello, this is Isuna Hasekura. It's been a year and nine months since the last volume, so I apologize for the wait. I've been busy writing Wolf and Parchment and busy with jobs relating to Spice and Wolf VR, so Spice and Wolf has not vanished from my life completely, but I was not actually working on any manuscripts. I really need to get to work... That said, I put some themes I had been wanting to use to good use this time around, had Elsa and Tanya doing a lot of work, so as the author, I am very pleased (I really hope you, the readers, enjoy it). I would call this a short story collection, and I believe you will find things that are more fantasy-esque than in the original series, so it was a lot of fun to write. Now let me tell you some of the things that served as inspiration for the stories. Spoilers. The Gem of the Sea and Wolf: I've always wanted to write about the coral fishing from the Maghreb region, so I did. They really do throw metal hooks into the water and then reel them in. In present-day society, I think we would be scared of messing up the sea floor. Summer's Harvest and Wolf: The mushroom in this chapter is the Xylaria polymorpha, or the dead man's fingers. Look it up online, and you'll see why Myuri was so shocked! An Old Hound's Sigh and Wolf: The tracks left by the great serpent are what we call cropmarks. You'll find lots of aerial photographs if you search that term online, and it is cool to see exactly what they look like. You won't find much on those things in documents related to medieval Europe, so it is difficult to just wait until I happen across something interesting. But I am certain there are more things that would suit a fantasy world, so I have a feeling Spring Log will continue for the time to come (I know the last chapter felt very final, but it isn't. Just in case). Be patient, and more will come. I have some space left... This is very recent, but I have been really craving the American-style donuts from Yamazaki Baking, so I searched all of the stores in my neighborhood but came up empty-handed. Maybe Daily Yamazaki will have them! I thought, and hopped on the train to the closest branch, but again, nothing! Maybe they don't sell them in the summertime. Nothing beats how moist they are, the aggressive presence of sugar and oil. Oh, American-style donuts! If I talk about how much weight I've gained in my next afterword, then please rest easy knowing that I managed to find them. Until next time. Isuna Hasekura Download all your Fav Light Novels from Just Light Novels *** No one knows what will happen on a journey.

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

Fortunately, a crowd of sailors had just thronged into the tavern. It was the perfect opportunity to spark the crowd. "Lend me your ears! This tune will be the envy of legends!" He strummed his instrument, and the customers turned to look. When he began to stomp his feet, the excitable members of the crowd began to join in. There was visible concern on a serving girl's face. She was likely worried about whether or not the platform over the river would hold. The stakes that sprouted from the river began to creak under the pressure, causing little ripples in the water. As the raucous uproar grew, Lawrence and Holo instead found a quiet moment between them. "I believe my ears will be ringing by the time we go to sleep tonight," Lawrence said, exhausted. "What? The one thing I can find no joy in is a hangover," replied Holo calmly. Lawrence shot her a look—perhaps she need not drink so much, then. But she gave him a pure smile and tilted her head; she deliberately downed her ale before asking for another mug. Lawrence and Holo's journey would continue. The hour would grow late, and no matter how cold the wind blew, they would not be alone. And the sun would rise in the east, yet again, on the morrow. *** Hello, this is Isuna Hasekura. It's been a year and nine months since the last volume, so I apologize for the wait. I've been busy writing Wolf and Parchment and busy with jobs relating to Spice and Wolf VR, so Spice and Wolf has not vanished from my life completely, but I was not actually working on any manuscripts. I really need to get to work... That said, I put some themes I had been wanting to use to good use this time around, had Elsa and Tanya doing a lot of work, so as the author, I am very pleased (I really hope you, the readers, enjoy it). I would call this a short story collection, and I believe you will find things that are more fantasy-esque than in the original series, so it was a lot of fun to write. Now let me tell you some of the things that served as inspiration for the stories. Spoilers. The Gem of the Sea and Wolf: I've always wanted to write about the coral fishing from the Maghreb region, so I did. They really do throw metal hooks into the water and then reel them in. In present-day society, I think we would be scared of messing up the sea floor. Summer's Harvest and Wolf: The mushroom in this chapter is the Xylaria polymorpha, or the dead man's fingers. Look it up online, and you'll see why Myuri was so shocked! An Old Hound's Sigh and Wolf: The tracks left by the great serpent are what we call cropmarks. You'll find lots of aerial photographs if you search that term online, and it is cool to see exactly what they look like. You won't find much on those things in documents related to medieval Europe, so it is difficult to just wait until I happen across something interesting. But I am certain there are more things that would suit a fantasy world, so I have a feeling Spring Log will continue for the time to come (I know the last chapter felt very final, but it isn't. Just in case). Be patient, and more will come. I have some space left... This is very recent, but I have been really craving the American-style donuts from Yamazaki Baking, so I searched all of the stores in my neighborhood but came up empty-handed. Maybe Daily Yamazaki will have them! I thought, and hopped on the train to the closest branch, but again, nothing! Maybe they don't sell them in the summertime. Nothing beats how moist they are, the aggressive presence of sugar and oil. Oh, American-style donuts! If I talk about how much weight I've gained in my next afterword, then please rest easy knowing that I managed to find them. Until next time. Isuna Hasekura Download all your Fav Light Novels from Just Light Novels *** No one knows what will happen on a journey.

And so, who could blame a girl who set out on a journey of her own when she stopped sending letters home, despite how much worry it would cause her parents? As it turned out, that was reason enough to encourage the girl's mother and father to descend from their hot spring village nestled deep in the mountains and see the world again. In the course of retracing Myuri's and Col's footsteps, Lawrence and Holo found themselves inextricably drawn into world events. They met a squirrel spirit, reunited with old traveling friends, and even came close to becoming rulers of their own domain. Though the matter of lordship had occupied Lawrence's mind for a time, he ultimately chose easygoing travels with the self-proclaimed Wisewolf, along with her penchant for jerky and booze. Then they departed from the city of Salonia by boat and headed toward the open sea. They headed downriver, sipping drinks and listening to the shanties. Lawrence believed they would hear more about a certain rambunctious girl and her adoptive older brother in the next seaside city, but— "Hmm...? What did you say?" Puffy eyes peeked out from a messy mop of hair to peer at Lawrence. He had not minded it so much in his sleep, but after waking up, leaving the room, washing his face at the well, preparing breakfast while collecting information from early-morning travelers, and then finally returning to the room, the strong smell of alcohol that still filled the air caused him to scrunch up his face. "You've been drinking too much." Lawrence glanced briefly at Holo as she lay whining in bed before he threw open the windows and took a deep breath of fresh air. "'Tis too bright..." He might have felt inclined to shield a moss-laden forest spirit from the harsh rays of sunlight, but he felt no pity for the wisewolf who had been entranced by the musical performance of the tavern bards and ended up dancing the night away, drink in hand the entire time. "Even the most boring parts of a journey are filled with delight when I travel with you"—she had just moved him with such touching words, and now this. Though Elsa was not around to scold him about it, he still felt like he really did spoil Holo a bit too much. Of course, it was a little late for that epiphany. "Good grief. Well, you look like you regret being alive at the moment, so I've got great news for you. No boats are heading downstream right now." Lawrence sat in the chair, waiting for the fresh air from outside to replace the strong smell of ale as he bit into a piece of bread he had purchased. "Mm... That smell..." Holo, who would normally leap from bed at the first whiff of freshly baked bread, instead scrunched up her face and groaned. Lawrence had seen this sight so many times he was genuinely quite tired of it, but he knew it would be a massive pain to clean up if she vomited, and he also knew he might have to pay the inn an exorbitant amount if it turned out particularly badly. And so, with a sigh, he moved his chair away from Holo to avoid bothering her nose. "Something's going on in the port city downriver. I think we'll be stuck here a while." *** Lawrence could usually tell when Holo was listening by watching her ears, but they did not so much as twitch. He swallowed his sigh with a bite of bread and continued, "It looks like our options are either wait here for things to blow over or get a horse and cart to travel by land." Lawrence paused, wondering if he would get an answer, but he received none. Her typically beautiful tail was all ruffled and messy, reminding him of a stray dog that had been tragically run over by a wagon. This was all her own fault to begin with. "If we go by land, then we may as well head straight south to Kerube. It might be easier to find information on Myuri and Col there. It's the busiest city in the area, so I know they'll have lots of good food." The fur on her tail twitched at the words good food, so now he was sure he had her attention.

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

And so, who could blame a girl who set out on a journey of her own when she stopped sending letters home, despite how much worry it would cause her parents? As it turned out, that was reason enough to encourage the girl's mother and father to descend from their hot spring village nestled deep in the mountains and see the world again. In the course of retracing Myuri's and Col's footsteps, Lawrence and Holo found themselves inextricably drawn into world events. They met a squirrel spirit, reunited with old traveling friends, and even came close to becoming rulers of their own domain. Though the matter of lordship had occupied Lawrence's mind for a time, he ultimately chose easygoing travels with the self-proclaimed Wisewolf, along with her penchant for jerky and booze. Then they departed from the city of Salonia by boat and headed toward the open sea. They headed downriver, sipping drinks and listening to the shanties. Lawrence believed they would hear more about a certain rambunctious girl and her adoptive older brother in the next seaside city, but— "Hmm...? What did you say?" Puffy eyes peeked out from a messy mop of hair to peer at Lawrence. He had not minded it so much in his sleep, but after waking up, leaving the room, washing his face at the well, preparing breakfast while collecting information from early-morning travelers, and then finally returning to the room, the strong smell of alcohol that still filled the air caused him to scrunch up his face. "You've been drinking too much." Lawrence glanced briefly at Holo as she lay whining in bed before he threw open the windows and took a deep breath of fresh air. "'Tis too bright..." He might have felt inclined to shield a moss-laden forest spirit from the harsh rays of sunlight, but he felt no pity for the wisewolf who had been entranced by the musical performance of the tavern bards and ended up dancing the night away, drink in hand the entire time. "Even the most boring parts of a journey are filled with delight when I travel with you"—she had just moved him with such touching words, and now this. Though Elsa was not around to scold him about it, he still felt like he really did spoil Holo a bit too much. Of course, it was a little late for that epiphany. "Good grief. Well, you look like you regret being alive at the moment, so I've got great news for you. No boats are heading downstream right now." Lawrence sat in the chair, waiting for the fresh air from outside to replace the strong smell of ale as he bit into a piece of bread he had purchased. "Mm... That smell..." Holo, who would normally leap from bed at the first whiff of freshly baked bread, instead scrunched up her face and groaned. Lawrence had seen this sight so many times he was genuinely quite tired of it, but he knew it would be a massive pain to clean up if she vomited, and he also knew he might have to pay the inn an exorbitant amount if it turned out particularly badly. And so, with a sigh, he moved his chair away from Holo to avoid bothering her nose. "Something's going on in the port city downriver. I think we'll be stuck here a while." *** Lawrence could usually tell when Holo was listening by watching her ears, but they did not so much as twitch. He swallowed his sigh with a bite of bread and continued, "It looks like our options are either wait here for things to blow over or get a horse and cart to travel by land." Lawrence paused, wondering if he would get an answer, but he received none. Her typically beautiful tail was all ruffled and messy, reminding him of a stray dog that had been tragically run over by a wagon. This was all her own fault to begin with. "If we go by land, then we may as well head straight south to Kerube. It might be easier to find information on Myuri and Col there. It's the busiest city in the area, so I know they'll have lots of good food." The fur on her tail twitched at the words good food, so now he was sure he had her attention.

"Well, we're not in any rush, so you can rest. Travelers coming from downstream should be arriving in the afternoon, and they should have a better idea of what's going on." Lawrence thought he heard Holo say something, but soon all he could hear were her deep, sleeping breaths. She was probably just mumbling in her sleep. With a weary smile, he put the half-eaten bread into his mouth and pulled the blanket over his princess. Rivers, without fail, passed through several private lands, and that meant checkpoints sat in each one. Most consisted of nothing more than a riverside hut run by one or two overbearing tax collectors, but some were lively places where multiple land-borne trade routes intersected. Those were proper post towns where inns and taverns meant for travelers could be easily found. The place where Lawrence and Holo were staying was not the most developed, but there were at least three buildings that offered meals and lodging, as well as some local artisans who mended clothes and shoes—more than enough amenities for a traveler to rest in comfort. As vexing as it was to be taxed at each checkpoint, this was a place meant for travelers. It was nice to sit outside a tavern and have a drink during the day without needing to worry about any judgmental glares. Lawrence sipped at his cheap wine, which had become somewhat tasty only after he added a gratuitous amount of honey. At the same time, he gathered information as people passed him by. The moment he realized a shadow had fallen over him, he also noticed a girl had brusquely taken the seat across from him. "You seem quite comfortable on your own, no?" The one who had decided to insult Lawrence without so much as glancing at him was a girl who seemed to be in her early teens. But she seemed in her element by the way she raised her hand to catch the bartender's attention, and it was clear she knew what she was doing by the way she ordered a sweet yet sour juice that would one day become alcoholic cider. Today, however, its duty was to ease her hangover, and she made sure to order honey to make it even sweeter. Despite how young she looked, she was still the same centuries-old wolf. "I am pleased. There is plenty of the good honey here." "But that doesn't make it any cheaper." "You fool," Holo said, eyes dropping to the piece of jerky by his hand. Though she frowned, likely not pleased by the prospect of eating tough food right after waking up, she still reached out and pulled the entire plate toward herself, as though deciding that she would make do with what he had. "Shouldn't you have porridge or something instead?" "Then order it for me. Make it hot." Her drink that came shortly after was a deep red that likely came from steeped gooseberries. She took a swig and immediately squeezed her eyes shut—perhaps it was sour, even with the honey. After exhaling heavily, Holo bit into a piece of jerky. Lawrence was glad she seemed healthier and asked for soup with breadcrumbs in it. "And? What led you to leave me behind and come drinking, hmm?" "You're not even sick. You wanted me to stay with you and hold your hand?" Holo kicked Lawrence under the table. He could see it was partly their normal banter, yes, but what stood out to him was how she seemed genuinely frustrated with him. Perhaps she did not mind so much that he was gone when she woke up, but that the open window had swept away most of his scent. Even though this wolf seemed laidback at a glance, she had lived for much longer than any normal human lifespan; her waking moments were often plagued by the sneaking suspicion that everything was but an ephemeral dream. And in that moment of self-doubt, she must have rushed to the window only to find Lawrence enjoying a drink by himself. Most likely, that was what had set her off. "You didn't hear a word I said this morning, did you?" Lawrence asked flatly. "What are you talking about?" Holo narrowed her eyes at him.

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

"Well, we're not in any rush, so you can rest. Travelers coming from downstream should be arriving in the afternoon, and they should have a better idea of what's going on." Lawrence thought he heard Holo say something, but soon all he could hear were her deep, sleeping breaths. She was probably just mumbling in her sleep. With a weary smile, he put the half-eaten bread into his mouth and pulled the blanket over his princess. Rivers, without fail, passed through several private lands, and that meant checkpoints sat in each one. Most consisted of nothing more than a riverside hut run by one or two overbearing tax collectors, but some were lively places where multiple land-borne trade routes intersected. Those were proper post towns where inns and taverns meant for travelers could be easily found. The place where Lawrence and Holo were staying was not the most developed, but there were at least three buildings that offered meals and lodging, as well as some local artisans who mended clothes and shoes—more than enough amenities for a traveler to rest in comfort. As vexing as it was to be taxed at each checkpoint, this was a place meant for travelers. It was nice to sit outside a tavern and have a drink during the day without needing to worry about any judgmental glares. Lawrence sipped at his cheap wine, which had become somewhat tasty only after he added a gratuitous amount of honey. At the same time, he gathered information as people passed him by. The moment he realized a shadow had fallen over him, he also noticed a girl had brusquely taken the seat across from him. "You seem quite comfortable on your own, no?" The one who had decided to insult Lawrence without so much as glancing at him was a girl who seemed to be in her early teens. But she seemed in her element by the way she raised her hand to catch the bartender's attention, and it was clear she knew what she was doing by the way she ordered a sweet yet sour juice that would one day become alcoholic cider. Today, however, its duty was to ease her hangover, and she made sure to order honey to make it even sweeter. Despite how young she looked, she was still the same centuries-old wolf. "I am pleased. There is plenty of the good honey here." "But that doesn't make it any cheaper." "You fool," Holo said, eyes dropping to the piece of jerky by his hand. Though she frowned, likely not pleased by the prospect of eating tough food right after waking up, she still reached out and pulled the entire plate toward herself, as though deciding that she would make do with what he had. "Shouldn't you have porridge or something instead?" "Then order it for me. Make it hot." Her drink that came shortly after was a deep red that likely came from steeped gooseberries. She took a swig and immediately squeezed her eyes shut—perhaps it was sour, even with the honey. After exhaling heavily, Holo bit into a piece of jerky. Lawrence was glad she seemed healthier and asked for soup with breadcrumbs in it. "And? What led you to leave me behind and come drinking, hmm?" "You're not even sick. You wanted me to stay with you and hold your hand?" Holo kicked Lawrence under the table. He could see it was partly their normal banter, yes, but what stood out to him was how she seemed genuinely frustrated with him. Perhaps she did not mind so much that he was gone when she woke up, but that the open window had swept away most of his scent. Even though this wolf seemed laidback at a glance, she had lived for much longer than any normal human lifespan; her waking moments were often plagued by the sneaking suspicion that everything was but an ephemeral dream. And in that moment of self-doubt, she must have rushed to the window only to find Lawrence enjoying a drink by himself. Most likely, that was what had set her off. "You didn't hear a word I said this morning, did you?" Lawrence asked flatly. "What are you talking about?" Holo narrowed her eyes at him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would have the opposite effect. She pouted and sipped on her honeyed juice. "There's some kind of big city council meeting at the port down the river." Lawrence reached to pluck a piece of what remained of his jerky, watching new ships arrive from upstream. Yet none were leaving the docks, which meant they were crowded with boats. There was a lot more traffic headed downstream than he expected. "It sounds like they're discussing taxes, so everyone's keeping a close eye on it." Holo, who still looked very hungover, lightly furrowed her brow and said, "Then should it not be the opposite?" She followed his gaze toward the docks just as a new ship bursting with cargo arrived. The idle apprehension that it would not be able to fit anywhere was for naught—the skilled pilots easily guided it into the tiniest of spots. "Are taxes not the worst nightmare of you merchants? Why not rush downriver before they are levied against you?" "If I did, you'd be feeding the river fish your dinner from last night right about now." Ships that crossed the sea rolled, but so did those that traversed the river. Lawrence could not help but smile when he pictured a languid Holo—she was always adorable—but when he noticed the wolf looking at him dubiously, he cleared his throat. "To everyone's surprise, they're talking about lowering the tariffs to enter the city." The reason Holo did not quip at Lawrence right away was because the soup came at the exact same time. She scooped up the soggy bits of bread with her wooden spoon and began to devour it. "And that's why everyone—travelers and even merchants—are all staying put until the local council announces their verdict." Thick pieces of carp swam in the soup along with the bread. Holo kept her mouth open as she breathed to cool herself down, taking a swig of her juice to help. Then she licked her lips and raised her head. "Then it has nothing to do with us, no? We have no cargo. I do not mind this place, but I would prefer to idle my time away in a larger city." "Yeah...but it could also be bait." "Bait?" "A rumor to lure people in, and then... Chomp." Walls that surround a city do not only protect those inside from outside enemies. They also prevent those inside from escaping. Cities that wanted to fill their war chests, for example, often forced visiting merchants to pay exorbitant travel fees if they wished to leave the city. Many would reluctantly pay the high tax, knowing it was preferable to getting caught up in a war. It was entirely possible that the local officials wanted to lure merchants into the city for precisely that reason. What sat in Holo's spoon were fish that just so happened to get caught in traps lying at the bottom of the river—and just so happened to become ingredients for soup. Holo's gaze drifted to the sky in thought as she brought the morsel to her mouth. "Mm. Sounds plausible." "So, how about we stay out of danger and head south by land instead?" Holo frowned at the suggestion. That was the face of someone who was actively recalling the pain in her tail that came from sitting on a rickety cart and comparing it to the comforts of boat travel. "If we manage to reach the Roef River, we could then catch another boat to Kerube." "Kerube... The name is familiar." "That's where they caught the narwhal, remember? The sea creature whose horn is supposed to grant eternal life if you grind it into a powder and drink it." Holo lifted her chin and gave a cheerless nod. A being that lived longer than any human likely had complicated feelings about things that supposedly offered eternal life. Or perhaps she recalled the conflict involving the absolute greediest merchants they had met in their travels together. "The good old Rowen Trade Guild is in Kerube. We could say hello to all those who helped us while we were getting the bathhouse set up. It should also be easier to get information on Myuri and Col there."

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

She opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would have the opposite effect. She pouted and sipped on her honeyed juice. "There's some kind of big city council meeting at the port down the river." Lawrence reached to pluck a piece of what remained of his jerky, watching new ships arrive from upstream. Yet none were leaving the docks, which meant they were crowded with boats. There was a lot more traffic headed downstream than he expected. "It sounds like they're discussing taxes, so everyone's keeping a close eye on it." Holo, who still looked very hungover, lightly furrowed her brow and said, "Then should it not be the opposite?" She followed his gaze toward the docks just as a new ship bursting with cargo arrived. The idle apprehension that it would not be able to fit anywhere was for naught—the skilled pilots easily guided it into the tiniest of spots. "Are taxes not the worst nightmare of you merchants? Why not rush downriver before they are levied against you?" "If I did, you'd be feeding the river fish your dinner from last night right about now." Ships that crossed the sea rolled, but so did those that traversed the river. Lawrence could not help but smile when he pictured a languid Holo—she was always adorable—but when he noticed the wolf looking at him dubiously, he cleared his throat. "To everyone's surprise, they're talking about lowering the tariffs to enter the city." The reason Holo did not quip at Lawrence right away was because the soup came at the exact same time. She scooped up the soggy bits of bread with her wooden spoon and began to devour it. "And that's why everyone—travelers and even merchants—are all staying put until the local council announces their verdict." Thick pieces of carp swam in the soup along with the bread. Holo kept her mouth open as she breathed to cool herself down, taking a swig of her juice to help. Then she licked her lips and raised her head. "Then it has nothing to do with us, no? We have no cargo. I do not mind this place, but I would prefer to idle my time away in a larger city." "Yeah...but it could also be bait." "Bait?" "A rumor to lure people in, and then... Chomp." Walls that surround a city do not only protect those inside from outside enemies. They also prevent those inside from escaping. Cities that wanted to fill their war chests, for example, often forced visiting merchants to pay exorbitant travel fees if they wished to leave the city. Many would reluctantly pay the high tax, knowing it was preferable to getting caught up in a war. It was entirely possible that the local officials wanted to lure merchants into the city for precisely that reason. What sat in Holo's spoon were fish that just so happened to get caught in traps lying at the bottom of the river—and just so happened to become ingredients for soup. Holo's gaze drifted to the sky in thought as she brought the morsel to her mouth. "Mm. Sounds plausible." "So, how about we stay out of danger and head south by land instead?" Holo frowned at the suggestion. That was the face of someone who was actively recalling the pain in her tail that came from sitting on a rickety cart and comparing it to the comforts of boat travel. "If we manage to reach the Roef River, we could then catch another boat to Kerube." "Kerube... The name is familiar." "That's where they caught the narwhal, remember? The sea creature whose horn is supposed to grant eternal life if you grind it into a powder and drink it." Holo lifted her chin and gave a cheerless nod. A being that lived longer than any human likely had complicated feelings about things that supposedly offered eternal life. Or perhaps she recalled the conflict involving the absolute greediest merchants they had met in their travels together. "The good old Rowen Trade Guild is in Kerube. We could say hello to all those who helped us while we were getting the bathhouse set up. It should also be easier to get information on Myuri and Col there."

However, Lawrence expected companies with trading houses spread across multiple cities to have more accurate information. "Hmm. That is the river on which we found little Col, and the city beyond that, no? 'Tis quite a long way away." "Yeah, the route isn't a straight shot from here to there, so it'd probably be three—no, we're not going there for trade, so we can take it slow—meaning it'd be more like five, maybe six days by cart... I don't really know this area very well." Holo's complaints might have been aggravating if Lawrence himself had not become rather accustomed to the bathhouse life. His back would immediately start hurting on the hard driver's perch of a cart. They would have to look up the roads, make stops, take rests, and everything else. It would probably take even longer. Either way, they were starting to see signs that the plans for their tranquil little journey were about to fall apart, and Holo slurped her soup loudly in protest. "I shan't say no if you choose to ride on my back." Holo, in her wolf form, could probably get there in one night. "What about the horse?" "...Horsemeat is sweet but goes surprisingly well with strong liquor." Lawrence, unsure how genuine her joke was, simply sighed and sipped his wine. "Personally, I want to wait and see what happens for just a little longer." "Mm?" "I don't know what the city down there's thinking, but if they really do lower taxes, then it'd be better if we get all our nonessentials over there, right? We've had a lot of customers at the bathhouse recently who aren't nobility who have also been complaining when they have to forgo luxuries from the south." Holo regarded him coolly, like he was a fool sharing his dreams of becoming rich. "You are a male who never learns his lesson. We leave matters to the rabbit and his company. Do you not remember when you ordered wheat from a new place and ended up swindled with cheap product?" The Debau Company, where a certain rabbit spirit acted as head clerk, was a reliable liaison for the Spice and Wolf bathhouse when they needed to order more supplies. As for the wheat incident, it was Holo and Myuri who had sniffed out that cheap rye grain had been mixed in with the expensive wheat, which allowed them to escape the worst. "Oops. But if I never learn, then should I tell you why you had such a hard time waking up this morning?" Holo pursed her lips into a thin line, but she did not kick him. The moment Lawrence was convinced she had finally started regretting the excessive drinking because of her terrible hangover, he sensed someone approach their table. He looked up. Standing there was a man wearing the clothes of a farmer, a thin hat clutched in his hands, offering both of them a hesitant smile. "You must be Sir Kraft Lawrence and his honorable wife, yes?" It was hard to say the man was dressed finely, and his overly polite language was rather odd, but it was immediately clear that he knew who they were, because what he offered along with his greeting was a small cask of alcohol that could fit under one's arm. Even though Holo had at last gotten over her hangover, her eyes glimmered as she reached out to take the cask with great delight. "Heh-heh... Mmm, this is good quality mead! Aye, if you've a need to speak with us, go on, then." Obviously, when she said us, she really meant Lawrence. Lawrence sighed and turned his attention to the farmer. He was farmer-like in the sense that he dressed like one, but his demeanor was unusually refined, and he seemed quite comfortable offering mead in greeting. Lawrence thought back on all the people he had met in trade, yet he did not find the face familiar. "Pardon me, but have we met before?" "No, this is our first meeting. But I heard of your undertakings in Salonia." Lawrence nodded. He had gotten a little too excited in Salonia and had become a bit of a celebrity there.

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

However, Lawrence expected companies with trading houses spread across multiple cities to have more accurate information. "Hmm. That is the river on which we found little Col, and the city beyond that, no? 'Tis quite a long way away." "Yeah, the route isn't a straight shot from here to there, so it'd probably be three—no, we're not going there for trade, so we can take it slow—meaning it'd be more like five, maybe six days by cart... I don't really know this area very well." Holo's complaints might have been aggravating if Lawrence himself had not become rather accustomed to the bathhouse life. His back would immediately start hurting on the hard driver's perch of a cart. They would have to look up the roads, make stops, take rests, and everything else. It would probably take even longer. Either way, they were starting to see signs that the plans for their tranquil little journey were about to fall apart, and Holo slurped her soup loudly in protest. "I shan't say no if you choose to ride on my back." Holo, in her wolf form, could probably get there in one night. "What about the horse?" "...Horsemeat is sweet but goes surprisingly well with strong liquor." Lawrence, unsure how genuine her joke was, simply sighed and sipped his wine. "Personally, I want to wait and see what happens for just a little longer." "Mm?" "I don't know what the city down there's thinking, but if they really do lower taxes, then it'd be better if we get all our nonessentials over there, right? We've had a lot of customers at the bathhouse recently who aren't nobility who have also been complaining when they have to forgo luxuries from the south." Holo regarded him coolly, like he was a fool sharing his dreams of becoming rich. "You are a male who never learns his lesson. We leave matters to the rabbit and his company. Do you not remember when you ordered wheat from a new place and ended up swindled with cheap product?" The Debau Company, where a certain rabbit spirit acted as head clerk, was a reliable liaison for the Spice and Wolf bathhouse when they needed to order more supplies. As for the wheat incident, it was Holo and Myuri who had sniffed out that cheap rye grain had been mixed in with the expensive wheat, which allowed them to escape the worst. "Oops. But if I never learn, then should I tell you why you had such a hard time waking up this morning?" Holo pursed her lips into a thin line, but she did not kick him. The moment Lawrence was convinced she had finally started regretting the excessive drinking because of her terrible hangover, he sensed someone approach their table. He looked up. Standing there was a man wearing the clothes of a farmer, a thin hat clutched in his hands, offering both of them a hesitant smile. "You must be Sir Kraft Lawrence and his honorable wife, yes?" It was hard to say the man was dressed finely, and his overly polite language was rather odd, but it was immediately clear that he knew who they were, because what he offered along with his greeting was a small cask of alcohol that could fit under one's arm. Even though Holo had at last gotten over her hangover, her eyes glimmered as she reached out to take the cask with great delight. "Heh-heh... Mmm, this is good quality mead! Aye, if you've a need to speak with us, go on, then." Obviously, when she said us, she really meant Lawrence. Lawrence sighed and turned his attention to the farmer. He was farmer-like in the sense that he dressed like one, but his demeanor was unusually refined, and he seemed quite comfortable offering mead in greeting. Lawrence thought back on all the people he had met in trade, yet he did not find the face familiar. "Pardon me, but have we met before?" "No, this is our first meeting. But I heard of your undertakings in Salonia." Lawrence nodded. He had gotten a little too excited in Salonia and had become a bit of a celebrity there.

"I know you are in the middle of your travels, but please, I hope you will listen to what I have to say." His polite language and the way he sank to one knee to make his plea told Lawrence that despite his appearance, this man often interacted with those of higher status. But he was much too young to be a mayor, and somehow they could tell that he was no normal villager. Lawrence rifled through all the knowledge he had gained in his past travels as a merchant as he carefully studied the man's belongings. He noted a simple hatchet and a small bow. And the way he adroitly prepared a flask of fine mead for Holo told Lawrence everything he needed to know. "What could a forest ranger possibly need from us?" The man's eyes widened in surprise and a bright smile burst across his face moments later. "So this is the great mind of Sir Lawrence, Salonia's problem solver! Please, we need your help!" As much as Lawrence wanted to tell him that this journey was meant for him and his wife alone, Holo was already happily nursing her mead. It sure must be nice knowing she's not the one who'll be taking care of this problem, Lawrence thought. Then another possibility occurred to him. It was very likely that she had smelled the earth and the trees on this man and immediately known he was someone who worked in the forest. Just like how Lawrence was enticed by many get-rich-quick schemes, Holo loved the forest beyond all else, so she had likely engineered this so Lawrence would offer an ear to a troubled forest dweller. And if she received mead as a bonus, then all the better. This meant that if he were to turn this man away, Lawrence knew he would be once again exiled from the bed and forced to sleep alone on the floor. "I would be glad to," Lawrence replied, already feeling tired. The man was delighted and Holo gave a satisfied nod. The man called himself Meyer Linde, the latest in a long line of forest rangers hired by the lords of the Tonneburg territory, which was situated south of this checkpoint. Holo was strangely impressed by the name of the man's occupation. She probably assumed it denoted a person whose job was to watch over the forest and doubted anyone who did so professionally could be a bad person. But forest rangers did not simply watch over the forest. They did just that, yes, but their focus was the natural resources in a specific part of the forest, not the whole. The woods around Nyohhira were too deep for rangers' services to be useful, but the farther south one went, the more valuable they became. And thus, the roles they played became more and more important. Precious, even, for places like this one, where much of the land had been cleared for wheat production. Ranger Meyer was responsible for the Tonneburg Woods, which was rather hilly compared to the surrounding area, which meant it was home to dense, untouched forest. Meyer's current concerns were a plan to cut down the old growth trees, ship off the lumber, and build another road through it. "And so you'd like to stop this plan, correct?" "Yes. But there has been trouble so I'd like your help, Sir Lawrence, if you would be willing." The words forest dweller tended to conjure up images of pessimistic, anti-social individuals with overgrown beards that resembled untamed moss and eyes that were always open wide like spooked deer. The reality was that rangers were civil servants who worked in the forest. They were often in the employ of nobles and spent their days arbitrating conflicts of interest concerning the land, which meant their manner of speech was refined. If someone told him that Meyer was the head clerk of a merchant company, he would not have doubted it for a second. And so of course he would be skilled in finding openings and taking advantage of them.

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

"I know you are in the middle of your travels, but please, I hope you will listen to what I have to say." His polite language and the way he sank to one knee to make his plea told Lawrence that despite his appearance, this man often interacted with those of higher status. But he was much too young to be a mayor, and somehow they could tell that he was no normal villager. Lawrence rifled through all the knowledge he had gained in his past travels as a merchant as he carefully studied the man's belongings. He noted a simple hatchet and a small bow. And the way he adroitly prepared a flask of fine mead for Holo told Lawrence everything he needed to know. "What could a forest ranger possibly need from us?" The man's eyes widened in surprise and a bright smile burst across his face moments later. "So this is the great mind of Sir Lawrence, Salonia's problem solver! Please, we need your help!" As much as Lawrence wanted to tell him that this journey was meant for him and his wife alone, Holo was already happily nursing her mead. It sure must be nice knowing she's not the one who'll be taking care of this problem, Lawrence thought. Then another possibility occurred to him. It was very likely that she had smelled the earth and the trees on this man and immediately known he was someone who worked in the forest. Just like how Lawrence was enticed by many get-rich-quick schemes, Holo loved the forest beyond all else, so she had likely engineered this so Lawrence would offer an ear to a troubled forest dweller. And if she received mead as a bonus, then all the better. This meant that if he were to turn this man away, Lawrence knew he would be once again exiled from the bed and forced to sleep alone on the floor. "I would be glad to," Lawrence replied, already feeling tired. The man was delighted and Holo gave a satisfied nod. The man called himself Meyer Linde, the latest in a long line of forest rangers hired by the lords of the Tonneburg territory, which was situated south of this checkpoint. Holo was strangely impressed by the name of the man's occupation. She probably assumed it denoted a person whose job was to watch over the forest and doubted anyone who did so professionally could be a bad person. But forest rangers did not simply watch over the forest. They did just that, yes, but their focus was the natural resources in a specific part of the forest, not the whole. The woods around Nyohhira were too deep for rangers' services to be useful, but the farther south one went, the more valuable they became. And thus, the roles they played became more and more important. Precious, even, for places like this one, where much of the land had been cleared for wheat production. Ranger Meyer was responsible for the Tonneburg Woods, which was rather hilly compared to the surrounding area, which meant it was home to dense, untouched forest. Meyer's current concerns were a plan to cut down the old growth trees, ship off the lumber, and build another road through it. "And so you'd like to stop this plan, correct?" "Yes. But there has been trouble so I'd like your help, Sir Lawrence, if you would be willing." The words forest dweller tended to conjure up images of pessimistic, anti-social individuals with overgrown beards that resembled untamed moss and eyes that were always open wide like spooked deer. The reality was that rangers were civil servants who worked in the forest. They were often in the employ of nobles and spent their days arbitrating conflicts of interest concerning the land, which meant their manner of speech was refined. If someone told him that Meyer was the head clerk of a merchant company, he would not have doubted it for a second. And so of course he would be skilled in finding openings and taking advantage of them.

Unexpected waves. Lawrence had a terrible feeling about that ominous turn of phrase. "I did offer to do everything I could on behalf of the Salonia Church, but... Do you mean to say that I have inadvertently caused problems for you, Lord Tonneburg, or the people of your region?" "No, no, I would not call it a problem, per se." Though Meyer's manners and humble bearing were impeccable, his words did not seem very sincere. He was like a lamprey, moving effortlessly even as he steadily approached his objective. Holo seemed oddly pleased by both Meyer's general demeanor and the way Lawrence seemed to be feeling awkwardly pressured in this conversation. Lawrence was slightly bitter about that. "It is clear that you chose the correct path on behalf of the church, in accordance with God's teachings. But as a result, lumber tariffs remained much the same. Consequently, the port town of Karlan, which sits at the mouth of this river, cannot procure cheap lumber due to your actions." "Ah." Lawrence knew immediately where Meyer's story was headed, and he made a quiet noise in his throat. Holo's wolf ears twitched beneath her hood and she fixed Lawrence with a cold stare. "If tariffs on lumber that passes through Salonia were lower, then Karlan would be able to obtain cheap lumber. That plan has crumbled, however, and so they have been pressuring Lord Tonneburg to cut a path through our forests, which is something they were planning to do previously." The price of lumber had skyrocketed recently; even in Nyohhira, a place completely surrounded by dense forests, the amount of firewood any individual could collect was restricted by council decree. The rules were even stricter in places where there were overwhelmingly more plains and grasslands than forest. The discussion on lumber tariffs in Salonia did not come from the lumber merchants' desire to make a quick coin, but because every regional merchant had been watching over the entire affair with bated breath. In essence, the kneeling ranger was saying that because of Lawrence's actions in Salonia, now his precious Tonneburg Woods were being targeted—and the implicit question was how Lawrence would make up for it. In addition to Meyer's damning assessment, Lawrence could feel Holo's reproachful stare. She would always side with the forest. If Lawrence had simply not stuck his nose where it did not belong, then lumber tariffs would have gone down, the port town of Karlan would have been able to obtain lumber for cheap, and Meyer's Tonneburg Woods would have been left alone. "I—I believe I understand your predicament. So, what exactly are you having trouble with?" Lawrence asked, like a criminal desperately trying to stay his execution for even a moment longer. Tonneburg and its lord were likely not negotiating from a position of strength when they held talks with Karlan. Perhaps the city employed mercenaries to strong-arm its neighbors, like in the days of yore. Or, more likely, it would be the sort of issue Lawrence could help navigate and resolve somehow. "Lord Tonneburg agrees with cutting the forest down." Holo frowned. For her, it was unthinkable that the lord of the land would agree to have it developed like that when he was supposed to safeguard it. Lawrence, on the other hand, dipped his head because he could already see where this was going. "Your lord agreed to—" "Yes." Meyer returned Lawrence's stare and gave a firm nod. Though mere moments earlier the man was like a slippery fox, his eyes were now that of an eagle that had spotted its prey. "A humble peddler like—ahem," Lawrence cleared his throat, pausing in his habit of saying humble peddler like myself. "I am no noble. I doubt I have the power to meddle in the political affairs of a city and a local landowner—ouch!" Meyer stared wide-eyed at Lawrence, who returned the look with a vague smile in an attempt to brush over his stumble. Holo had kicked his ankle under the table.

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

Unexpected waves. Lawrence had a terrible feeling about that ominous turn of phrase. "I did offer to do everything I could on behalf of the Salonia Church, but... Do you mean to say that I have inadvertently caused problems for you, Lord Tonneburg, or the people of your region?" "No, no, I would not call it a problem, per se." Though Meyer's manners and humble bearing were impeccable, his words did not seem very sincere. He was like a lamprey, moving effortlessly even as he steadily approached his objective. Holo seemed oddly pleased by both Meyer's general demeanor and the way Lawrence seemed to be feeling awkwardly pressured in this conversation. Lawrence was slightly bitter about that. "It is clear that you chose the correct path on behalf of the church, in accordance with God's teachings. But as a result, lumber tariffs remained much the same. Consequently, the port town of Karlan, which sits at the mouth of this river, cannot procure cheap lumber due to your actions." "Ah." Lawrence knew immediately where Meyer's story was headed, and he made a quiet noise in his throat. Holo's wolf ears twitched beneath her hood and she fixed Lawrence with a cold stare. "If tariffs on lumber that passes through Salonia were lower, then Karlan would be able to obtain cheap lumber. That plan has crumbled, however, and so they have been pressuring Lord Tonneburg to cut a path through our forests, which is something they were planning to do previously." The price of lumber had skyrocketed recently; even in Nyohhira, a place completely surrounded by dense forests, the amount of firewood any individual could collect was restricted by council decree. The rules were even stricter in places where there were overwhelmingly more plains and grasslands than forest. The discussion on lumber tariffs in Salonia did not come from the lumber merchants' desire to make a quick coin, but because every regional merchant had been watching over the entire affair with bated breath. In essence, the kneeling ranger was saying that because of Lawrence's actions in Salonia, now his precious Tonneburg Woods were being targeted—and the implicit question was how Lawrence would make up for it. In addition to Meyer's damning assessment, Lawrence could feel Holo's reproachful stare. She would always side with the forest. If Lawrence had simply not stuck his nose where it did not belong, then lumber tariffs would have gone down, the port town of Karlan would have been able to obtain lumber for cheap, and Meyer's Tonneburg Woods would have been left alone. "I—I believe I understand your predicament. So, what exactly are you having trouble with?" Lawrence asked, like a criminal desperately trying to stay his execution for even a moment longer. Tonneburg and its lord were likely not negotiating from a position of strength when they held talks with Karlan. Perhaps the city employed mercenaries to strong-arm its neighbors, like in the days of yore. Or, more likely, it would be the sort of issue Lawrence could help navigate and resolve somehow. "Lord Tonneburg agrees with cutting the forest down." Holo frowned. For her, it was unthinkable that the lord of the land would agree to have it developed like that when he was supposed to safeguard it. Lawrence, on the other hand, dipped his head because he could already see where this was going. "Your lord agreed to—" "Yes." Meyer returned Lawrence's stare and gave a firm nod. Though mere moments earlier the man was like a slippery fox, his eyes were now that of an eagle that had spotted its prey. "A humble peddler like—ahem," Lawrence cleared his throat, pausing in his habit of saying humble peddler like myself. "I am no noble. I doubt I have the power to meddle in the political affairs of a city and a local landowner—ouch!" Meyer stared wide-eyed at Lawrence, who returned the look with a vague smile in an attempt to brush over his stumble. Holo had kicked his ankle under the table.

*** Lawrence gave a little sigh, and not because Holo had kicked him. He gestured for Meyer to keep going. "First, I believe Lord Tonneburg has made a simple error in his calculations. A forest, once cut down, does not easily grow back. And yet, he not only wants to clear trees but is also giving into temptation and plans to build coal-burning huts and smithies as Karlan has requested." Lawrence held his breath not in response to what Meyer said, but because he could hear Holo's tail beginning to rustle beneath her clothes despite her blank expression. "And that's not all. Lord Tonneburg is looking to build a road through the forest so that all of the refined metal and coal can be easily transported, further developing trade. Representatives of Karlan sit on his shoulder and whisper to him that with a road, his wallet will grow fat off tolls, and he believes it." It was true that Lawrence found Meyer's words a bit overwhelming, but the reason he shifted in his chair was because it no longer seemed like this was simply about making up for the cheap lumber that was supposed to be sourced from Salonia. "The woods will grow thin, and the people who depend on the trees will be reduced to poverty. Yet all Lord Tonneburg can think about is the lumber trade, the coal-burning industry, the profitable smithies, and the lucrative tolls from those new roads. He has decided to line his pockets even if it means his people becoming impoverished and the woods dying." It did not seem as though Meyer reached out to Lawrence only because he was involved in the events that unfolded in Salonia. He had shrewdly determined that the only way to persuade his liege was to show him that he shouldn't count his chickens before they hatched—making Lawrence the perfect man for the job. "I have learned that you are now the owner of a bathhouse in a very well-known hot spring village, but you were once a renowned merchant who traveled the world over. I would be forever thankful if you could put that trading knowledge to use and tell Lord Tonneburg that his appraisal is not completely accurate." The overstated praise was not simple flattery—the fact that the bathhouse had been mentioned at all was proof of that. Meyer was shrewd. He had done his research on the events in Salonia and had likely met Elsa in the process. It was a subtle threat; this was his way of telling Lawrence that he knew exactly who he was. "What do you think? If you help me protect the woods, then I promise you seasonal ciders made with the fruits of the forest, in addition to mead, dried mushrooms, venison, and rabbit jerky. I vow on Tonneburg Woods's honor that they are excellent products and more than enough to satisfy all the nobility who visit Nyohhira seeking relaxation and comfort." Holo's eyes were glimmering at the delicious proposition, but it sounded completely different to Lawrence's ear. A discreet offer of goods in lieu of coin most likely meant that paying for his services was either difficult or outright impossible. That was because a vassal seeking to overturn his lord's decisions would be risking life and limb. The correct answer, if given careful thought, would be for Lawrence to immediately accept Meyer's proposal with a smile, pack his bags, and run away with Holo in tow. If the other party insisted on following through on the veiled threat of harassing the bathhouse, then it would be a simple matter to retaliate with their nonhuman allies. But there was good reason why Lawrence had no room to maneuver. The growling of the empty stomach from the glutton beside him aside, it was still true that those who lived in the forest would lose all its blessings if it was exploited with wild abandon. More importantly, there was a much weightier issue than his role in the events at Salonia, which were the reason this was happening in the first place. And the heart of that issue sat behind him.

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

*** Lawrence gave a little sigh, and not because Holo had kicked him. He gestured for Meyer to keep going. "First, I believe Lord Tonneburg has made a simple error in his calculations. A forest, once cut down, does not easily grow back. And yet, he not only wants to clear trees but is also giving into temptation and plans to build coal-burning huts and smithies as Karlan has requested." Lawrence held his breath not in response to what Meyer said, but because he could hear Holo's tail beginning to rustle beneath her clothes despite her blank expression. "And that's not all. Lord Tonneburg is looking to build a road through the forest so that all of the refined metal and coal can be easily transported, further developing trade. Representatives of Karlan sit on his shoulder and whisper to him that with a road, his wallet will grow fat off tolls, and he believes it." It was true that Lawrence found Meyer's words a bit overwhelming, but the reason he shifted in his chair was because it no longer seemed like this was simply about making up for the cheap lumber that was supposed to be sourced from Salonia. "The woods will grow thin, and the people who depend on the trees will be reduced to poverty. Yet all Lord Tonneburg can think about is the lumber trade, the coal-burning industry, the profitable smithies, and the lucrative tolls from those new roads. He has decided to line his pockets even if it means his people becoming impoverished and the woods dying." It did not seem as though Meyer reached out to Lawrence only because he was involved in the events that unfolded in Salonia. He had shrewdly determined that the only way to persuade his liege was to show him that he shouldn't count his chickens before they hatched—making Lawrence the perfect man for the job. "I have learned that you are now the owner of a bathhouse in a very well-known hot spring village, but you were once a renowned merchant who traveled the world over. I would be forever thankful if you could put that trading knowledge to use and tell Lord Tonneburg that his appraisal is not completely accurate." The overstated praise was not simple flattery—the fact that the bathhouse had been mentioned at all was proof of that. Meyer was shrewd. He had done his research on the events in Salonia and had likely met Elsa in the process. It was a subtle threat; this was his way of telling Lawrence that he knew exactly who he was. "What do you think? If you help me protect the woods, then I promise you seasonal ciders made with the fruits of the forest, in addition to mead, dried mushrooms, venison, and rabbit jerky. I vow on Tonneburg Woods's honor that they are excellent products and more than enough to satisfy all the nobility who visit Nyohhira seeking relaxation and comfort." Holo's eyes were glimmering at the delicious proposition, but it sounded completely different to Lawrence's ear. A discreet offer of goods in lieu of coin most likely meant that paying for his services was either difficult or outright impossible. That was because a vassal seeking to overturn his lord's decisions would be risking life and limb. The correct answer, if given careful thought, would be for Lawrence to immediately accept Meyer's proposal with a smile, pack his bags, and run away with Holo in tow. If the other party insisted on following through on the veiled threat of harassing the bathhouse, then it would be a simple matter to retaliate with their nonhuman allies. But there was good reason why Lawrence had no room to maneuver. The growling of the empty stomach from the glutton beside him aside, it was still true that those who lived in the forest would lose all its blessings if it was exploited with wild abandon. More importantly, there was a much weightier issue than his role in the events at Salonia, which were the reason this was happening in the first place. And the heart of that issue sat behind him.

He pictured her standing there alone, looking out over a wasteland dotted by the occasional tree, a place that humans had shattered long ago. To Lawrence, nothing could possibly be sadder. "Hmm?" When Lawrence glanced aside, he found Holo looking at him dubiously. He stood at a crossroads, in a way. Would Holo fall to her knees at the threshold of a wizened forest, fingers brushing parched earth? Or would she laugh when she found a message left to her from Lawrence, carved into a sapling? That was how he urged himself to his decision. Rationally speaking, asking a ruler to change their mind was something wise people avoided. Yet Meyer was requesting that he show his lord how misguided his thinking was. In essence, this was a matter that did involve trade, but the problem was an entire magnitude more complicated. Reasons he should turn this request down loomed over Lawrence like a mountain. Yet opposite him sat Holo, and she looked at him with wide eyes. There was risk both in getting involved and in not getting involved. He balanced everything on his mental scales, then finally said, "...Would you give us a moment to speak?" Meyer must have sensed the partial surrender in his tone; he glanced between Lawrence and Holo, keeping his expression as blank as possible, and bowed his head. "You fool! The forest is at risk because of you!" Holo, sitting atop the blankets, thwacked her tail over the bed once, twice. And when it landed against the sheets for a third time, she cradled it in her lap. "...As much as I wish I could scold you so, I admit I was rather pleased you put in so much effort on my behalf in the previous town," she said, glancing at her diary and the gifted cask on the table. Both were perfectly sweet. "Luckily, this matter involves the forest. I may not get many chances to make a difference in human affairs, but I may be able to play a role yet when it comes to protecting the woods." Lawrence was surprised. "Why the face? We simply discourage them from cutting down the trees, no? Such conflict can be resolved in an instant by simply flashing my fangs." Foolish humans who ventured into the deep, pristine wood were at risk of running right into the sharp claws of the forest spirits. That would lead to a happy ending in a fairy tale, but reality was not so simple. That was especially true when it came to business. "I understand. I know you want to protect the forest. But—" "But what?" "Do you remember what Meyer said? He wanted me to show his lord that his calculations were wrong." Holo met him with a confused look, and he continued. "We've only heard Meyer's claims so far. It means it's technically possible that saving the forest might not be the right thing to do, despite what he says." *** Holo's eyes glazed over, as though she could not believe what she was hearing. It was like she was telling him that there was never a good reason to cut down a forest. With a sigh, Lawrence launched into an explanation. "In storybooks about the forests and their spirits, good and evil are always clearly marked. And so, if we were being asked to save the lord's beloved woods, then the answer would be easy. But when it comes to gold, silver, and those whose lives they support, what is good and evil becomes much, much more complicated." Holo's tail gave a sullen twitch. "Do you mean to claim that fool was lying?" "I don't doubt your ears. But we can't say anything definitive about the things he didn't bring up at all, can we?" Holo pursed her lips. "Let's talk about land used for planting wheat, for example. Is it right to keep the forest intact when there isn't enough land for wheat? By cutting down the trees, villages will thrive, and some people might even be saved from starvation. It's entirely possible that this Lord Tonneburg and his people both want this, while Meyer is the only one who doesn't. He came to us for help because he didn't want to lose his precious woods, right?"

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

He pictured her standing there alone, looking out over a wasteland dotted by the occasional tree, a place that humans had shattered long ago. To Lawrence, nothing could possibly be sadder. "Hmm?" When Lawrence glanced aside, he found Holo looking at him dubiously. He stood at a crossroads, in a way. Would Holo fall to her knees at the threshold of a wizened forest, fingers brushing parched earth? Or would she laugh when she found a message left to her from Lawrence, carved into a sapling? That was how he urged himself to his decision. Rationally speaking, asking a ruler to change their mind was something wise people avoided. Yet Meyer was requesting that he show his lord how misguided his thinking was. In essence, this was a matter that did involve trade, but the problem was an entire magnitude more complicated. Reasons he should turn this request down loomed over Lawrence like a mountain. Yet opposite him sat Holo, and she looked at him with wide eyes. There was risk both in getting involved and in not getting involved. He balanced everything on his mental scales, then finally said, "...Would you give us a moment to speak?" Meyer must have sensed the partial surrender in his tone; he glanced between Lawrence and Holo, keeping his expression as blank as possible, and bowed his head. "You fool! The forest is at risk because of you!" Holo, sitting atop the blankets, thwacked her tail over the bed once, twice. And when it landed against the sheets for a third time, she cradled it in her lap. "...As much as I wish I could scold you so, I admit I was rather pleased you put in so much effort on my behalf in the previous town," she said, glancing at her diary and the gifted cask on the table. Both were perfectly sweet. "Luckily, this matter involves the forest. I may not get many chances to make a difference in human affairs, but I may be able to play a role yet when it comes to protecting the woods." Lawrence was surprised. "Why the face? We simply discourage them from cutting down the trees, no? Such conflict can be resolved in an instant by simply flashing my fangs." Foolish humans who ventured into the deep, pristine wood were at risk of running right into the sharp claws of the forest spirits. That would lead to a happy ending in a fairy tale, but reality was not so simple. That was especially true when it came to business. "I understand. I know you want to protect the forest. But—" "But what?" "Do you remember what Meyer said? He wanted me to show his lord that his calculations were wrong." Holo met him with a confused look, and he continued. "We've only heard Meyer's claims so far. It means it's technically possible that saving the forest might not be the right thing to do, despite what he says." *** Holo's eyes glazed over, as though she could not believe what she was hearing. It was like she was telling him that there was never a good reason to cut down a forest. With a sigh, Lawrence launched into an explanation. "In storybooks about the forests and their spirits, good and evil are always clearly marked. And so, if we were being asked to save the lord's beloved woods, then the answer would be easy. But when it comes to gold, silver, and those whose lives they support, what is good and evil becomes much, much more complicated." Holo's tail gave a sullen twitch. "Do you mean to claim that fool was lying?" "I don't doubt your ears. But we can't say anything definitive about the things he didn't bring up at all, can we?" Holo pursed her lips. "Let's talk about land used for planting wheat, for example. Is it right to keep the forest intact when there isn't enough land for wheat? By cutting down the trees, villages will thrive, and some people might even be saved from starvation. It's entirely possible that this Lord Tonneburg and his people both want this, while Meyer is the only one who doesn't. He came to us for help because he didn't want to lose his precious woods, right?"

If that were to happen, it would be very easy for them to track down Lawrence the Nyohhira bathhouse owner, which would obviously cause problems for them in the future. "Of course, I could simply decide to do this for you, because you always want to protect the forests." Holo glanced at Lawrence when he said this, then looked away in a pouty huff. This wolf was not a wicked pagan spirit that could not care less about humans. She had faithfully kept her promise to a human villager for centuries, presiding over Pasloe's bountiful wheat harvests. And because of that, it was unlikely Holo would be any happier if they decided to keep the forest intact only to condemn a great many to poverty. Lawrence had spent many years in the world of trade—a crossroads of countless interests. Before his eyes, he could see rows upon rows of scales, tipping in every direction, weighed down by various choices. "Or...," Lawrence began, deciding to ask just in case. "...was Meyer a spirit?" If he were, then Lawrence would knock away all the scales on the table and replace it with a war map. He could completely disregard the interests of the human world and fight for the livelihood of the forest with the same enthusiasm he did when he decided to become Holo's life partner. Perhaps his intentions had gotten across to her; the fur on her tail perked, but it had apparently been an unconscious motion. Realizing how her tail had reacted, Holo gave him a hard glare and said with a sigh, "He is human. Though he smells of earth and wood, I also caught the scent of gold and silver coins. Like you." If there was one thing that definitively separated Lawrence and Holo, it was not Lawrence's lack of ears and tail. Nor was it the gap in their lifespan. It was their differing attitudes toward money, and their attitudes toward loss and profits, which could also be called a sort of faith. "Thought so. That makes this about trade, then." Holo would of course want to jump on a request to save a forest from being cut down, but this was not a remote mountain inhabited by spirits—this was a land that supported human livelihood. And the mechanisms that made up the human world were complicated. "You plan to turn him down?" Her tone was thorny and did not sound genuinely reproachful, but it was a sign that she would not be backing down without a fight. Even Holo, who was the one typically admonishing Lawrence for constantly sticking his nose into trouble, was not going to easily give in when it came to preserving the forests. And Lawrence, of course, felt responsibility for their actions in Salonia, which had unintentionally affected the Tonneburg Woods—and there was Holo, too. Yet despite all that, Meyer's request came with all sorts of concerns that made Lawrence want to decline it. That was why there was a part of him that wished Holo would lie to him and say that Meyer was not human. After that thought crossed his mind, he sighed. Though Holo was a heavy drinker and constant snacker and told lies over the silliest things, she would never treat such an important moment lightly. And so, there was only one person here who could fool the selfish former merchant who always put his own safety first. And that would be the part of him that used to be a smooth-talking businessman. "Anyway...," Lawrence began with a deep sigh; one of Holo's drooping ears pricked upright. "Whether Lord Tonneburg's decision is right or wrong, there is something strange about the way the town of Karlan is acting." Holo's reddish eyes slowly turned in his direction, wide open. "The original plan to lower the lumber tariff didn't go well, so they've set their eyes on the Tonneburg Woods looking for cheap lumber. That makes perfect sense from a commerce perspective. But there have been rumors that Karlan might be lowering their own tariffs." "Mm...hmm?" Holo's expression was complicated, unsure what to make of this news.

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

If that were to happen, it would be very easy for them to track down Lawrence the Nyohhira bathhouse owner, which would obviously cause problems for them in the future. "Of course, I could simply decide to do this for you, because you always want to protect the forests." Holo glanced at Lawrence when he said this, then looked away in a pouty huff. This wolf was not a wicked pagan spirit that could not care less about humans. She had faithfully kept her promise to a human villager for centuries, presiding over Pasloe's bountiful wheat harvests. And because of that, it was unlikely Holo would be any happier if they decided to keep the forest intact only to condemn a great many to poverty. Lawrence had spent many years in the world of trade—a crossroads of countless interests. Before his eyes, he could see rows upon rows of scales, tipping in every direction, weighed down by various choices. "Or...," Lawrence began, deciding to ask just in case. "...was Meyer a spirit?" If he were, then Lawrence would knock away all the scales on the table and replace it with a war map. He could completely disregard the interests of the human world and fight for the livelihood of the forest with the same enthusiasm he did when he decided to become Holo's life partner. Perhaps his intentions had gotten across to her; the fur on her tail perked, but it had apparently been an unconscious motion. Realizing how her tail had reacted, Holo gave him a hard glare and said with a sigh, "He is human. Though he smells of earth and wood, I also caught the scent of gold and silver coins. Like you." If there was one thing that definitively separated Lawrence and Holo, it was not Lawrence's lack of ears and tail. Nor was it the gap in their lifespan. It was their differing attitudes toward money, and their attitudes toward loss and profits, which could also be called a sort of faith. "Thought so. That makes this about trade, then." Holo would of course want to jump on a request to save a forest from being cut down, but this was not a remote mountain inhabited by spirits—this was a land that supported human livelihood. And the mechanisms that made up the human world were complicated. "You plan to turn him down?" Her tone was thorny and did not sound genuinely reproachful, but it was a sign that she would not be backing down without a fight. Even Holo, who was the one typically admonishing Lawrence for constantly sticking his nose into trouble, was not going to easily give in when it came to preserving the forests. And Lawrence, of course, felt responsibility for their actions in Salonia, which had unintentionally affected the Tonneburg Woods—and there was Holo, too. Yet despite all that, Meyer's request came with all sorts of concerns that made Lawrence want to decline it. That was why there was a part of him that wished Holo would lie to him and say that Meyer was not human. After that thought crossed his mind, he sighed. Though Holo was a heavy drinker and constant snacker and told lies over the silliest things, she would never treat such an important moment lightly. And so, there was only one person here who could fool the selfish former merchant who always put his own safety first. And that would be the part of him that used to be a smooth-talking businessman. "Anyway...," Lawrence began with a deep sigh; one of Holo's drooping ears pricked upright. "Whether Lord Tonneburg's decision is right or wrong, there is something strange about the way the town of Karlan is acting." Holo's reddish eyes slowly turned in his direction, wide open. "The original plan to lower the lumber tariff didn't go well, so they've set their eyes on the Tonneburg Woods looking for cheap lumber. That makes perfect sense from a commerce perspective. But there have been rumors that Karlan might be lowering their own tariffs." "Mm...hmm?" Holo's expression was complicated, unsure what to make of this news.

Holo dipped her head and looked to Lawrence for a brief moment, before her eyes drifted upward. "I...suppose that's true. But are you absolutely certain that Karlan is not going through the same troubles as the other city where you went on a rampage?" She made a very reasonable point. As expected of the Wisewolf. Just like how the lumber tariffs in Salonia affected Karlan downriver, Karlan, too, was perhaps nothing more than a passing point for the lumber that would continue traveling to their final destinations elsewhere. That meant it was possible that there were people out there besides those in Salonia and Karlan who had an interest in cheaper lumber and lower tariffs. "Mm. 'Tis strange, then. Are the lowered tariffs in Karlan affecting lumber alone?" If anyone asked Lawrence to name what he liked about Holo, he would undoubtedly say that he adored how she was smarter than him. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his delight. "From what I've heard, it won't just be lumber, no. That's why there's something strange about this. Something big must be going on behind the scenes in town." Holo drew up her shoulders, legs still crossed, and grasped at her toes. "If so, then...what?" There was an obsequious look in her eyes because she knew that the situation was going to turn out much more complicated than she anticipated, despite how reluctant Lawrence was. That is to say, he had found a reason to turn down Meyer's request. In all honesty, that was what Lawrence wanted to do. But everything could change with a single thought. "Think about it for a second." "Hm...?" "I'm saying there's something even bigger looming over this town." Perhaps the reason the astute Holo had not noticed was because Lawrence's attitude had been much too careless. This was a horse dangling a carrot in front of its own nose, after all. "Karlan has drawn some kind of grand picture, and Tonneburg is about to sadly lose its precious forest. And when things get this big, you know what's usually hidden in between the lines, right?" "Mm..." "A chance to get incredibly rich. Right?" "Ah." When they had journeyed together when Lawrence was still a traveling merchant, Holo would give him a cold stare every night whenever he went wide-eyed thinking about a scheme to earn a heap of coins. Those were his ambitions—and they were entirely gone now. The reason he had discarded them was because he had found something more important to him than gold, and he wanted to keep that safe. That something turned out to be Holo—whose wolf ears were flitting this way and that. There was an apologetic, yet expectant look on her face as she peered at him; it was a hard expression for her beloved to ignore. Lawrence decided to consider this a favor and said, "I'm talking about a whiff of gold, one that'll attract this former merchant who's also a massive fool." There was a glint in Holo's eyes, and her tail thumped against the bed like a puppy's. Lawrence set his jaw and steeled himself, not letting his expression melt like he wanted. "I'm going to ask you one more time. You didn't sense Meyer telling lies or anything, did you?" Holo's ears pricked upright at the question, and she shook her head. "He did not behave as though he was making something up." When he got his answer, all Lawrence could do was sigh. "No hard feelings if it doesn't turn out the way you want, okay?" Cutting down the forest might turn out to be for the people's sake; they might even earn Lord Tonneburg's ire and have to protect the bathhouse. Or perhaps Karlan was planning something unbelievable, including encroaching on the Tonneburg Woods. Worse, Lawrence and Holo might not even see a single silver coin in profits if they got involved. Yet the wisewolf, who would live a much longer life than Lawrence, repeated what she told him not too long ago. "It will still be a part of my memory, traveling with you."

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

Holo dipped her head and looked to Lawrence for a brief moment, before her eyes drifted upward. "I...suppose that's true. But are you absolutely certain that Karlan is not going through the same troubles as the other city where you went on a rampage?" She made a very reasonable point. As expected of the Wisewolf. Just like how the lumber tariffs in Salonia affected Karlan downriver, Karlan, too, was perhaps nothing more than a passing point for the lumber that would continue traveling to their final destinations elsewhere. That meant it was possible that there were people out there besides those in Salonia and Karlan who had an interest in cheaper lumber and lower tariffs. "Mm. 'Tis strange, then. Are the lowered tariffs in Karlan affecting lumber alone?" If anyone asked Lawrence to name what he liked about Holo, he would undoubtedly say that he adored how she was smarter than him. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his delight. "From what I've heard, it won't just be lumber, no. That's why there's something strange about this. Something big must be going on behind the scenes in town." Holo drew up her shoulders, legs still crossed, and grasped at her toes. "If so, then...what?" There was an obsequious look in her eyes because she knew that the situation was going to turn out much more complicated than she anticipated, despite how reluctant Lawrence was. That is to say, he had found a reason to turn down Meyer's request. In all honesty, that was what Lawrence wanted to do. But everything could change with a single thought. "Think about it for a second." "Hm...?" "I'm saying there's something even bigger looming over this town." Perhaps the reason the astute Holo had not noticed was because Lawrence's attitude had been much too careless. This was a horse dangling a carrot in front of its own nose, after all. "Karlan has drawn some kind of grand picture, and Tonneburg is about to sadly lose its precious forest. And when things get this big, you know what's usually hidden in between the lines, right?" "Mm..." "A chance to get incredibly rich. Right?" "Ah." When they had journeyed together when Lawrence was still a traveling merchant, Holo would give him a cold stare every night whenever he went wide-eyed thinking about a scheme to earn a heap of coins. Those were his ambitions—and they were entirely gone now. The reason he had discarded them was because he had found something more important to him than gold, and he wanted to keep that safe. That something turned out to be Holo—whose wolf ears were flitting this way and that. There was an apologetic, yet expectant look on her face as she peered at him; it was a hard expression for her beloved to ignore. Lawrence decided to consider this a favor and said, "I'm talking about a whiff of gold, one that'll attract this former merchant who's also a massive fool." There was a glint in Holo's eyes, and her tail thumped against the bed like a puppy's. Lawrence set his jaw and steeled himself, not letting his expression melt like he wanted. "I'm going to ask you one more time. You didn't sense Meyer telling lies or anything, did you?" Holo's ears pricked upright at the question, and she shook her head. "He did not behave as though he was making something up." When he got his answer, all Lawrence could do was sigh. "No hard feelings if it doesn't turn out the way you want, okay?" Cutting down the forest might turn out to be for the people's sake; they might even earn Lord Tonneburg's ire and have to protect the bathhouse. Or perhaps Karlan was planning something unbelievable, including encroaching on the Tonneburg Woods. Worse, Lawrence and Holo might not even see a single silver coin in profits if they got involved. Yet the wisewolf, who would live a much longer life than Lawrence, repeated what she told him not too long ago. "It will still be a part of my memory, traveling with you."

A priest might consider it a terribly decadent way of thinking, and it almost sounded like it was just a convenient excuse in their current situation. And in truth, it was nothing more than an excuse. It was easy to find pessimism in the world; because of her pessimistic outlook, Holo often found herself wanting to stop traveling with Lawrence. It was Lawrence himself who thrust that mindset of hers aside, and in the end, she found that she truly did wish to spend her life with another. And when she did at last, she found ahead of her days filled with joy. "You're a sly wolf, you know that?" In the end, perhaps this had always been the obvious choice to begin with. If either of them lived sensibly and only ever made smart decisions, then they never would've walked hand in hand. "...A wolf never lets go of her prey, you know." She took his hand in hers, her smile filled with genuine gratitude. She was more precious than gold, a reward more decadent than the finest wine. Lawrence smiled at his own foolishness, tugged on her hand, and pulled her into an embrace. Then, after that brief moment, they returned to Meyer to tell him they would take on his request. The hostlers, who took horses along the riverside for those who chose to travel by boat, arrived at the checkpoint a day later. Lawrence received his horse from them and then found a merchant who would be staying at this very checkpoint for a little while longer. He negotiated with this merchant, placed several silver pieces on a contract that would allow him to secure a cart in Karlan, and managed to borrow a cart off the merchant. Though it was a bit on the older side, they were in no position to be picky. "An agreement on a single sheet of paper and nothing more than a handshake. Your exchanges are odd, as always." Just like that, he made a deal with a stranger to secure an item they were not even sure existed. Exchanges based on the trust among merchants were still an odd sight to Holo, despite how many times she had seen this concept in action. "But I think the strangest of all those agreements is everlasting love based on nothing more than a kiss." Holo, who had been poking at the sacks of powdered sulfur with her foot, did not blush at that statement, of course. She only scoffed. "Aye. I have certainly been taken in by someone's honeyed words, have I not?" "I believe you are being delivered the exact product you signed for in the contract, ma'am," Lawrence said as he began to load the cart bed after tying up the horse, and Holo gave a dauntless smile. She then leaped into the cart. "I suppose it could be worse. Especially considering the situation." She leaned her knees against the edge of the cart, resting her elbows on them so she could prop up her chin with her palms. A suggestive smile crossed her face. "It will be worth the hard work." After she cheerfully flashed her canines, she finally began to grab sacks of sulfur and helped place them on the bed of the cart. Once they were done, Meyer arrived on horseback. "Have all your preparations been completed?" "Yes. Lead the way." Holo, who had sat down on the driver's perch before him, scooted to the side to give him room. Lawrence climbed up and took the reins. It was clear from the get-go that Meyer was a ranger for good reason—he handled his horse with incredible skill. Though he spent all his days on horseback, roaming the woods, he only looked like a simple peasant on the outside. In reality, he was a vassal who directly served the nobility. The shortbow on his back was not for show, either; whenever he spotted a wild rabbit, he drew his bow and shot it from horseback. Even the most skilled hunters would not be able to accomplish such a feat without special training. Not to mention that it was also a martial art that had use in battle. It was not hard to imagine him mercilessly feathering any intruders he came across in the forest, and he likely knew his way around a blade as well.

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

A priest might consider it a terribly decadent way of thinking, and it almost sounded like it was just a convenient excuse in their current situation. And in truth, it was nothing more than an excuse. It was easy to find pessimism in the world; because of her pessimistic outlook, Holo often found herself wanting to stop traveling with Lawrence. It was Lawrence himself who thrust that mindset of hers aside, and in the end, she found that she truly did wish to spend her life with another. And when she did at last, she found ahead of her days filled with joy. "You're a sly wolf, you know that?" In the end, perhaps this had always been the obvious choice to begin with. If either of them lived sensibly and only ever made smart decisions, then they never would've walked hand in hand. "...A wolf never lets go of her prey, you know." She took his hand in hers, her smile filled with genuine gratitude. She was more precious than gold, a reward more decadent than the finest wine. Lawrence smiled at his own foolishness, tugged on her hand, and pulled her into an embrace. Then, after that brief moment, they returned to Meyer to tell him they would take on his request. The hostlers, who took horses along the riverside for those who chose to travel by boat, arrived at the checkpoint a day later. Lawrence received his horse from them and then found a merchant who would be staying at this very checkpoint for a little while longer. He negotiated with this merchant, placed several silver pieces on a contract that would allow him to secure a cart in Karlan, and managed to borrow a cart off the merchant. Though it was a bit on the older side, they were in no position to be picky. "An agreement on a single sheet of paper and nothing more than a handshake. Your exchanges are odd, as always." Just like that, he made a deal with a stranger to secure an item they were not even sure existed. Exchanges based on the trust among merchants were still an odd sight to Holo, despite how many times she had seen this concept in action. "But I think the strangest of all those agreements is everlasting love based on nothing more than a kiss." Holo, who had been poking at the sacks of powdered sulfur with her foot, did not blush at that statement, of course. She only scoffed. "Aye. I have certainly been taken in by someone's honeyed words, have I not?" "I believe you are being delivered the exact product you signed for in the contract, ma'am," Lawrence said as he began to load the cart bed after tying up the horse, and Holo gave a dauntless smile. She then leaped into the cart. "I suppose it could be worse. Especially considering the situation." She leaned her knees against the edge of the cart, resting her elbows on them so she could prop up her chin with her palms. A suggestive smile crossed her face. "It will be worth the hard work." After she cheerfully flashed her canines, she finally began to grab sacks of sulfur and helped place them on the bed of the cart. Once they were done, Meyer arrived on horseback. "Have all your preparations been completed?" "Yes. Lead the way." Holo, who had sat down on the driver's perch before him, scooted to the side to give him room. Lawrence climbed up and took the reins. It was clear from the get-go that Meyer was a ranger for good reason—he handled his horse with incredible skill. Though he spent all his days on horseback, roaming the woods, he only looked like a simple peasant on the outside. In reality, he was a vassal who directly served the nobility. The shortbow on his back was not for show, either; whenever he spotted a wild rabbit, he drew his bow and shot it from horseback. Even the most skilled hunters would not be able to accomplish such a feat without special training. Not to mention that it was also a martial art that had use in battle. It was not hard to imagine him mercilessly feathering any intruders he came across in the forest, and he likely knew his way around a blade as well.

The ranger basically treated them like nobility. He hurried ahead to check the roads, brought any rabbits he hunted to the inns they passed, and even arranged for a meal and lodging with the innkeepers. As night approached, he took them to a small church in a nearby town, where they had a lovely evening with a mild-mannered old priest. If Lawrence were on his own, the best he would have been able to manage would be finding a cheap inn full of lice and fleas, camping outside by the fire, or borrowing a straw bed if they happened upon a village. Even that was only possible if they were lucky. There were plenty of very good reasons why Holo was reluctant to travel over land. "I am beginning to wish we had an attendant of our own," Holo said the next morning once they left the church. It was likely an allusion to how Lawrence had taken so long to start a fire when they first left the mountains of Nyohhira, but Lawrence decided to pretend not to hear it for the sake of harmony in their family. After a while of traveling, Meyer eventually got down from his horse ahead of them. As Lawrence turned his attention ahead, he spotted a dilapidated bridge over a small stream. "This is quite old," he remarked. "Is there anywhere we could cross on foot?" The stream beneath the bridge was nothing more than a long, thin puddle—calling it a river would be much too flattering—but the water itself was surprisingly clear. The water's edge was thick with grasses, some spots home to small copses. It was at this moment that Lawrence realized that, at some point, the flat plains had vanished and given way to hills and trees. "Water wells quite frequently in this area, so there are many brooks such as this one," Meyer explained. "I've heard that there was once a great river that flowed through here in my grandfather's grandfather's time." Lawrence immediately knew he was talking about the great serpent, said to have been cut down by a great hero. Though he had not been conscious of it, it seemed that the river that once existed near Salonia flowed into this land. "The ground is damp wherever you go, so a failed crossing could mean getting a cart wheel stuck in the mud, forcing a stop." Lawrence nodded and glanced to Holo. With an annoyed sigh, Holo clambered down from the driver's perch and began unloading all the sulfur they had packed back at the checkpoint. "May God help us." Lawrence pretended not to notice the scowl on Holo's face as he made a rather genuine prayer to the heavens, pulling horse and empty cart across the bridge. He could feel sweat trickling down his temples at the ominous creaking of the bridge below him as he came to realize one reason why Tonneburg managed to preserve such a vast forest. Though there were no big mountains in the area, the land was not flat, either. Ponds and rivers also dotted the landscape. This kind of land could not be turned into arable fields, and ground where drainage was poor meant disease spread more easily—in other words, it was not suitable for human settlements. The geography also made it very difficult to attack in wartime. That the land was so difficult to use played a role in why Tonneburg had managed to keep the forest largely untouched until this day. "Seems like we made it across." Lawrence would not be the least bit surprised if, on their way back, they found the bridge collapsed and starting its new life as a home for the small fish and shrimp that lived there. The reason Meyer always went ahead to check the roads was intended to be a deliberate show of kindness, but it was also because the terrain was genuinely dangerous to traverse. "Let us be off. We're almost there." Though this was a far cry from a relaxing journey, the reason Holo was not terribly upset about it was perhaps because of the smells of the rich earth and water—the scent of the deep forest hung over them. It was potent enough that Lawrence could smell it, too.

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

The ranger basically treated them like nobility. He hurried ahead to check the roads, brought any rabbits he hunted to the inns they passed, and even arranged for a meal and lodging with the innkeepers. As night approached, he took them to a small church in a nearby town, where they had a lovely evening with a mild-mannered old priest. If Lawrence were on his own, the best he would have been able to manage would be finding a cheap inn full of lice and fleas, camping outside by the fire, or borrowing a straw bed if they happened upon a village. Even that was only possible if they were lucky. There were plenty of very good reasons why Holo was reluctant to travel over land. "I am beginning to wish we had an attendant of our own," Holo said the next morning once they left the church. It was likely an allusion to how Lawrence had taken so long to start a fire when they first left the mountains of Nyohhira, but Lawrence decided to pretend not to hear it for the sake of harmony in their family. After a while of traveling, Meyer eventually got down from his horse ahead of them. As Lawrence turned his attention ahead, he spotted a dilapidated bridge over a small stream. "This is quite old," he remarked. "Is there anywhere we could cross on foot?" The stream beneath the bridge was nothing more than a long, thin puddle—calling it a river would be much too flattering—but the water itself was surprisingly clear. The water's edge was thick with grasses, some spots home to small copses. It was at this moment that Lawrence realized that, at some point, the flat plains had vanished and given way to hills and trees. "Water wells quite frequently in this area, so there are many brooks such as this one," Meyer explained. "I've heard that there was once a great river that flowed through here in my grandfather's grandfather's time." Lawrence immediately knew he was talking about the great serpent, said to have been cut down by a great hero. Though he had not been conscious of it, it seemed that the river that once existed near Salonia flowed into this land. "The ground is damp wherever you go, so a failed crossing could mean getting a cart wheel stuck in the mud, forcing a stop." Lawrence nodded and glanced to Holo. With an annoyed sigh, Holo clambered down from the driver's perch and began unloading all the sulfur they had packed back at the checkpoint. "May God help us." Lawrence pretended not to notice the scowl on Holo's face as he made a rather genuine prayer to the heavens, pulling horse and empty cart across the bridge. He could feel sweat trickling down his temples at the ominous creaking of the bridge below him as he came to realize one reason why Tonneburg managed to preserve such a vast forest. Though there were no big mountains in the area, the land was not flat, either. Ponds and rivers also dotted the landscape. This kind of land could not be turned into arable fields, and ground where drainage was poor meant disease spread more easily—in other words, it was not suitable for human settlements. The geography also made it very difficult to attack in wartime. That the land was so difficult to use played a role in why Tonneburg had managed to keep the forest largely untouched until this day. "Seems like we made it across." Lawrence would not be the least bit surprised if, on their way back, they found the bridge collapsed and starting its new life as a home for the small fish and shrimp that lived there. The reason Meyer always went ahead to check the roads was intended to be a deliberate show of kindness, but it was also because the terrain was genuinely dangerous to traverse. "Let us be off. We're almost there." Though this was a far cry from a relaxing journey, the reason Holo was not terribly upset about it was perhaps because of the smells of the rich earth and water—the scent of the deep forest hung over them. It was potent enough that Lawrence could smell it, too.

Tonneburg was comprised of several small villages that surrounded the forest, and one of them acted as the heart of the territory. Incidentally, the settlement was big enough to have its own market. Lord Tonneburg's manor sat apart from the villages, on the bank of a pond to the south of the forest. The road Meyer had used to bring them here led to the largest village. That said, the road was barely recognizable as one, and it did not seem that merchants and travelers often came from the outside world. As Meyer guided them down the path, Lawrence and Holo noticed a person along the road. A lone old man sat on a tree stump, and the moment he spotted the two of them, he rose to his feet. Evidently, he had been waiting for them. Meyer told them that he was the mayor of the village they would be entering soon. "Ah, there you are! The merchants that come to our market have spoken of you. You solve business problems with magic!" "Magic? Oh, no. Only God's guidance." It would only cause problems for Lawrence later down the line if a superstitious village believed he was genuinely a wizard, but the look on the mayor's face made it seem like his village was on the brink of collapse. He ignored Meyer's introduction and began to speak, clearing his throat. "If all the trees are cut down, then we cannot maintain our livelihood. And that's not all—a great calamity will befall the entire region if this comes to pass!" His speech was exaggerated, like a pastor giving a sermon. Though Holo gave a docile nod, Lawrence wore a merchant's mask. A merchant who took every hyperbolic proclamation at face value was worse than useless, and the mayor seemed sensitive to that. "It is not mere parable, Great Merchant." Lawrence showed his shock, and the elderly man's glassy eyes bore straight into him. "Our lord understands nothing. How are our pigs and goats supposed to grow fat if he cuts down our forest? And does he understand what sort of state that would lead to?!" Meyer did not stick around to rein in the mayor, who leaned in as he talked to Lawrence and Holo; their ranger had, as always, gone ahead to check the roads. After glancing briefly in his direction, Lawrence asked, "...Pigs?" In all honesty, he had assumed the old man was concerned about the potential clear-cutting because of a pagan attachment to the woods. That and complaints about being forced into hard labor when the clearing process began in earnest. Yet what came out of his mouth was talk of goats and pigs, which Lawrence had not been expecting. Satisfied by his bewilderment, the mayor gave a deep nod. "The villagers speak of the forest's bounty, but the honey and nuts one can find among the trees is a trivial matter. Even the lumber is not the greatest thing the forest provides. What we cannot afford to lose is the nameless undergrowth." Lawrence could not bring himself to put on a fake smile or offer amicable agreement; instead, he found himself glancing at Holo for her wisdom. But even Holo, who was supposed to be thoroughly knowledgeable on all things regarding the forest, simply looked back at him with a quizzical expression. "The forest undergrowth is what keeps our goats and our pigs fed. You must know that the horses pulling precious cargo for traveling merchants like yourself—those all-important beasts of burden—are raised on oats that grow wild in the forest." Wild oats that were too much like grass for human consumption were sold as horse feed. Lawrence knew that, of course. "If the undergrowth vanishes, then goat milk and pork will not be the only things we lose. You came from Salonia, yes? You must have seen the impressive fields of wheat they have over there." For the third time, the conversation took another wild turn, and vexed, Lawrence struggled to find the words. "Er, yes... They truly were impressive..." "Yes, yes they are. But our Lord Tonneburg also does not understand that all the wheat fields around Salonia thrive on livestock manure."

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

Tonneburg was comprised of several small villages that surrounded the forest, and one of them acted as the heart of the territory. Incidentally, the settlement was big enough to have its own market. Lord Tonneburg's manor sat apart from the villages, on the bank of a pond to the south of the forest. The road Meyer had used to bring them here led to the largest village. That said, the road was barely recognizable as one, and it did not seem that merchants and travelers often came from the outside world. As Meyer guided them down the path, Lawrence and Holo noticed a person along the road. A lone old man sat on a tree stump, and the moment he spotted the two of them, he rose to his feet. Evidently, he had been waiting for them. Meyer told them that he was the mayor of the village they would be entering soon. "Ah, there you are! The merchants that come to our market have spoken of you. You solve business problems with magic!" "Magic? Oh, no. Only God's guidance." It would only cause problems for Lawrence later down the line if a superstitious village believed he was genuinely a wizard, but the look on the mayor's face made it seem like his village was on the brink of collapse. He ignored Meyer's introduction and began to speak, clearing his throat. "If all the trees are cut down, then we cannot maintain our livelihood. And that's not all—a great calamity will befall the entire region if this comes to pass!" His speech was exaggerated, like a pastor giving a sermon. Though Holo gave a docile nod, Lawrence wore a merchant's mask. A merchant who took every hyperbolic proclamation at face value was worse than useless, and the mayor seemed sensitive to that. "It is not mere parable, Great Merchant." Lawrence showed his shock, and the elderly man's glassy eyes bore straight into him. "Our lord understands nothing. How are our pigs and goats supposed to grow fat if he cuts down our forest? And does he understand what sort of state that would lead to?!" Meyer did not stick around to rein in the mayor, who leaned in as he talked to Lawrence and Holo; their ranger had, as always, gone ahead to check the roads. After glancing briefly in his direction, Lawrence asked, "...Pigs?" In all honesty, he had assumed the old man was concerned about the potential clear-cutting because of a pagan attachment to the woods. That and complaints about being forced into hard labor when the clearing process began in earnest. Yet what came out of his mouth was talk of goats and pigs, which Lawrence had not been expecting. Satisfied by his bewilderment, the mayor gave a deep nod. "The villagers speak of the forest's bounty, but the honey and nuts one can find among the trees is a trivial matter. Even the lumber is not the greatest thing the forest provides. What we cannot afford to lose is the nameless undergrowth." Lawrence could not bring himself to put on a fake smile or offer amicable agreement; instead, he found himself glancing at Holo for her wisdom. But even Holo, who was supposed to be thoroughly knowledgeable on all things regarding the forest, simply looked back at him with a quizzical expression. "The forest undergrowth is what keeps our goats and our pigs fed. You must know that the horses pulling precious cargo for traveling merchants like yourself—those all-important beasts of burden—are raised on oats that grow wild in the forest." Wild oats that were too much like grass for human consumption were sold as horse feed. Lawrence knew that, of course. "If the undergrowth vanishes, then goat milk and pork will not be the only things we lose. You came from Salonia, yes? You must have seen the impressive fields of wheat they have over there." For the third time, the conversation took another wild turn, and vexed, Lawrence struggled to find the words. "Er, yes... They truly were impressive..." "Yes, yes they are. But our Lord Tonneburg also does not understand that all the wheat fields around Salonia thrive on livestock manure."

Lawrence, too, had once traveled the world as a peddler, the kind of person who in a sense also worked to support the bottom rungs of society, and was confident that he had seen all the fine detail the world had to offer. But what the mayor was talking about was something that supported the world from its very root, something that would never enter a traveling merchant's view. "Those who never sully their hands with dirt could never imagine the sheer amount of grazing needed to keep the livestock fed. The grasses that grow in fallow fields and plains could never be enough. It is the Tonneburg Woods that single-handedly provide what other territories lack. If Lord Tonneburg understood how hard we work, how much we trade in livestock manure, then he would look to the heavens in astonishment and exclaim how rich in trade his land is!" All merchants could see were the final products that came to market. Even merchants who dealt in herring egg futures never handled livestock manure, much less gave a first or second thought to pig or goat feed. As far as they were concerned, livestock simply lived off the land, and there was no need to deliberately spend money to feed them. As Lawrence failed to find his words, he stared at Meyer, who had failed to mention any of this back at the checkpoint. Perhaps the easygoing atmosphere surrounding the merchants and travelers at the checkpoint was so powerful that he was convinced talk of rich soil would go unheard and unheeded. There was always a suitable time and place for any topic. And that was never truer than this moment now. The shrewd Meyer at last spoke. "Sir Lawrence, while part of my role entails protecting the forest from illicit logging, my main responsibility is actually to make sure no one lets their livestock roam and graze on the grasses without express permission." "Livestock manure is gold for the fields. Whether scattered seeds of wheat yield three or seven times the amount planted depends entirely upon whether or not the field has been treated with a veritable deluge of manure. And the quality of that manure is affected by how much the livestock has been fed." It was not unusual to find wheat fields that only produced three times the amount of seed planted. That was only enough to feed the farmhands because after setting aside the seed needed for planting the next year, nothing would be left. A year of bad harvests would plunge many farmers into immediate poverty. Regions known as breadbaskets that lined their market stalls with heavy-laden bags of wheat needed a yield that was five times greater than the amount of seed they planted. Even lands known for being fertile would thank God for a rich harvest that offered sevenfold yields. Lawrence finally managed to understand this with the knowledge he gleaned from his days as a traveling merchant only because it strayed close to the markets, which he understood well. To think that fertilizing the land with livestock manure was this important, and that the forest's undergrowth was critical to raising livestock. He had spent quite some time traveling from village to village dealing in wheat during his merchant days, so Lawrence thought he knew everything there was to know, but it turned out there was plenty he had not learned about at all. "If Lord Tonneburg proceeds with cutting down the forest, then not only will we be forced to contribute labor, but the forest will lose its undergrowth, the livestock in the area will grow skinny, the wheat fields will wither like a dried-up river, and all of us will lose our livelihoods." Holo, who had spent centuries in a wheat field, understood where the conversation was going from the very beginning, and in all likelihood had subtly turned Lawrence toward this problem. When that thought crossed his mind and Lawrence looked to the side, he saw Holo glowering at him from atop the driver's perch.

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

Lawrence, too, had once traveled the world as a peddler, the kind of person who in a sense also worked to support the bottom rungs of society, and was confident that he had seen all the fine detail the world had to offer. But what the mayor was talking about was something that supported the world from its very root, something that would never enter a traveling merchant's view. "Those who never sully their hands with dirt could never imagine the sheer amount of grazing needed to keep the livestock fed. The grasses that grow in fallow fields and plains could never be enough. It is the Tonneburg Woods that single-handedly provide what other territories lack. If Lord Tonneburg understood how hard we work, how much we trade in livestock manure, then he would look to the heavens in astonishment and exclaim how rich in trade his land is!" All merchants could see were the final products that came to market. Even merchants who dealt in herring egg futures never handled livestock manure, much less gave a first or second thought to pig or goat feed. As far as they were concerned, livestock simply lived off the land, and there was no need to deliberately spend money to feed them. As Lawrence failed to find his words, he stared at Meyer, who had failed to mention any of this back at the checkpoint. Perhaps the easygoing atmosphere surrounding the merchants and travelers at the checkpoint was so powerful that he was convinced talk of rich soil would go unheard and unheeded. There was always a suitable time and place for any topic. And that was never truer than this moment now. The shrewd Meyer at last spoke. "Sir Lawrence, while part of my role entails protecting the forest from illicit logging, my main responsibility is actually to make sure no one lets their livestock roam and graze on the grasses without express permission." "Livestock manure is gold for the fields. Whether scattered seeds of wheat yield three or seven times the amount planted depends entirely upon whether or not the field has been treated with a veritable deluge of manure. And the quality of that manure is affected by how much the livestock has been fed." It was not unusual to find wheat fields that only produced three times the amount of seed planted. That was only enough to feed the farmhands because after setting aside the seed needed for planting the next year, nothing would be left. A year of bad harvests would plunge many farmers into immediate poverty. Regions known as breadbaskets that lined their market stalls with heavy-laden bags of wheat needed a yield that was five times greater than the amount of seed they planted. Even lands known for being fertile would thank God for a rich harvest that offered sevenfold yields. Lawrence finally managed to understand this with the knowledge he gleaned from his days as a traveling merchant only because it strayed close to the markets, which he understood well. To think that fertilizing the land with livestock manure was this important, and that the forest's undergrowth was critical to raising livestock. He had spent quite some time traveling from village to village dealing in wheat during his merchant days, so Lawrence thought he knew everything there was to know, but it turned out there was plenty he had not learned about at all. "If Lord Tonneburg proceeds with cutting down the forest, then not only will we be forced to contribute labor, but the forest will lose its undergrowth, the livestock in the area will grow skinny, the wheat fields will wither like a dried-up river, and all of us will lose our livelihoods." Holo, who had spent centuries in a wheat field, understood where the conversation was going from the very beginning, and in all likelihood had subtly turned Lawrence toward this problem. When that thought crossed his mind and Lawrence looked to the side, he saw Holo glowering at him from atop the driver's perch.

Then he recalled how, after commanding the harvest in Pasloe for centuries, she had been rendered obsolete and had practically been chased out due to advancements in human agriculture. The mayor still rambled fervently about tree types and how the undergrowth grew in relation to them, and the relationship between livestock grazing periods and the wheat harvest, but not once did God come up. The era in which people left offerings in the dark, sunless forest to pray for a good harvest had long since passed. Holo was more than ready to protect the forest, but the forest was no longer home to beings like her. "Do you understand, Great Merchant?" This brought Lawrence back to the moment, and his gaze turned from Holo to the mayor. "The Tonneburg Woods supports the wheat harvest at its very foundations in every place reachable from here by cart. But our lord has forgotten how the land operates and has been taken for a ride by those blasted sea dwellers," the mayor spat. Meyer added, "Seaside ports operate on vastly different logic from landlocked settlements. To them, wheat is but one of many products that pass through their walls. They likely think they can simply import wheat from overseas with their boats to sell them at a high price during years of bad harvest." To Lawrence, who once gladly took on whatever product he thought might make him a quick profit and carted them from town to town, this statement was a bit hard to swallow. "But the reason Lord Tonneburg made an agreement with Karlan is, well...there is a sort of rationale to it." Just as Meyer spoke, the crude road—nothing but cut grass to mark where one was meant to walk—became the familiar sight of packed earth, and Lawrence caught sight of small clearings and farmland along the treeline. It seemed the local wheat harvest ended long before Salonia's—perhaps they reaped the wheat earlier. "It is not just our lumber that Karlan is after. They want to build a road through the forest and change the maps." "The maps?" Lawrence asked in turn. As he did, the center of the village came into view. In the center square stood a modest market, stalls lined with harvested grain and other miscellaneous vegetables, as well as honey and the bounty of fruit trees harvested from the forest. A great number of people and carts packed the rows, more than the size of the market might've suggested. It was the familiar sight of a small, yet lively farming village. "Lord Tonneburg wants to sacrifice the forest to ensure this market remains on the map." As Lawrence began to nod, he realized something was strange about that statement. "But if the forest is cut down, then this place would vanish, too." Though the village sat beside a deep, dense forest, it did not seem as though its main industry revolved around lumber. What supported its economy was the forest's fertility, which greatly benefited the soil and the livestock. "Lord Tonneburg believes the scent of wheat and honey can be replaced with metal and coal." "Those metalworking shops will fill this entire region with the smell of burning wheat fields." Meyer had mentioned that Lord Tonneburg had made a miscalculation at the checkpoint tavern. And that miscalculation would not only affect the Tonneburg Woods, but also the vast majority of Salonia's wheat fields. At last, Lawrence began to understand—this was one appraisal that they could not afford to get wrong. *** The situation called for extreme caution. It was unusual for the village to receive visitors, much less outsiders who had come for the sole purpose of dismantling their lord's plans. Lawrence had the sense that even the head of the village, who had come with Meyer to welcome Lawrence and Holo, viewed the two of them as a necessary evil. That was probably why he described Lawrence resolving trade disputes as magic. And so Lawrence would be staying in the village as a guest of the church, just as traveling merchants who came to trade did.

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

Then he recalled how, after commanding the harvest in Pasloe for centuries, she had been rendered obsolete and had practically been chased out due to advancements in human agriculture. The mayor still rambled fervently about tree types and how the undergrowth grew in relation to them, and the relationship between livestock grazing periods and the wheat harvest, but not once did God come up. The era in which people left offerings in the dark, sunless forest to pray for a good harvest had long since passed. Holo was more than ready to protect the forest, but the forest was no longer home to beings like her. "Do you understand, Great Merchant?" This brought Lawrence back to the moment, and his gaze turned from Holo to the mayor. "The Tonneburg Woods supports the wheat harvest at its very foundations in every place reachable from here by cart. But our lord has forgotten how the land operates and has been taken for a ride by those blasted sea dwellers," the mayor spat. Meyer added, "Seaside ports operate on vastly different logic from landlocked settlements. To them, wheat is but one of many products that pass through their walls. They likely think they can simply import wheat from overseas with their boats to sell them at a high price during years of bad harvest." To Lawrence, who once gladly took on whatever product he thought might make him a quick profit and carted them from town to town, this statement was a bit hard to swallow. "But the reason Lord Tonneburg made an agreement with Karlan is, well...there is a sort of rationale to it." Just as Meyer spoke, the crude road—nothing but cut grass to mark where one was meant to walk—became the familiar sight of packed earth, and Lawrence caught sight of small clearings and farmland along the treeline. It seemed the local wheat harvest ended long before Salonia's—perhaps they reaped the wheat earlier. "It is not just our lumber that Karlan is after. They want to build a road through the forest and change the maps." "The maps?" Lawrence asked in turn. As he did, the center of the village came into view. In the center square stood a modest market, stalls lined with harvested grain and other miscellaneous vegetables, as well as honey and the bounty of fruit trees harvested from the forest. A great number of people and carts packed the rows, more than the size of the market might've suggested. It was the familiar sight of a small, yet lively farming village. "Lord Tonneburg wants to sacrifice the forest to ensure this market remains on the map." As Lawrence began to nod, he realized something was strange about that statement. "But if the forest is cut down, then this place would vanish, too." Though the village sat beside a deep, dense forest, it did not seem as though its main industry revolved around lumber. What supported its economy was the forest's fertility, which greatly benefited the soil and the livestock. "Lord Tonneburg believes the scent of wheat and honey can be replaced with metal and coal." "Those metalworking shops will fill this entire region with the smell of burning wheat fields." Meyer had mentioned that Lord Tonneburg had made a miscalculation at the checkpoint tavern. And that miscalculation would not only affect the Tonneburg Woods, but also the vast majority of Salonia's wheat fields. At last, Lawrence began to understand—this was one appraisal that they could not afford to get wrong. *** The situation called for extreme caution. It was unusual for the village to receive visitors, much less outsiders who had come for the sole purpose of dismantling their lord's plans. Lawrence had the sense that even the head of the village, who had come with Meyer to welcome Lawrence and Holo, viewed the two of them as a necessary evil. That was probably why he described Lawrence resolving trade disputes as magic. And so Lawrence would be staying in the village as a guest of the church, just as traveling merchants who came to trade did.

Lawrence was hoping to hear more details about the village and the forest from the priest, but the old man was a fervent believer first and foremost; though the villagers respected him, he was not at all knowledgeable about the village or the region's economy. "All I hope for is peace for the souls of Lord Tonneburg and his people," he said sadly. Had Elsa been there, she would have rolled her eyes at this, especially since she traveled all over to reform poorly run churches. And so, dinner was delightful, but ended fruitlessly. Holo seemed unsatisfied with the scant servings of meat at the serene meal. The moment she settled down in their guest room, she immediately undid her pack to fish out some jerky. But she was not as cheerful as she usually was; she only silently sipped on the mead Meyer had gifted her. Though the forest was still in danger, the villagers were not particularly worried about the forest itself, much less the spirits that might have dwelled there. Their greatest concern was the livestock manure. Though she knew it was unreasonable to get angry over this, it was still enough reason for her to sulk. In contrast, Lawrence had only just begun to understand the weight of the situation. And to make up for what he believed was a lacking dinner, he had gone to the priest to borrow something from him. "What is it you've borrowed?" Holo asked dubiously, peering at what he unfolded over the writing desk. "A map." Meyer had mentioned that the port city of Karlan was hoping to redraw the maps. He had also mentioned that Lord Tonneburg had decided to cut down the forest in order to preserve the lively village market. The trick to trade was considering things while standing in another's shoes. "People always gather in churches for one reason or another. Church maps will always be reliable." "What am I looking at?" Not many people could read letters, and that mostly held true for maps as well. The majority of people never left the village where they were born, so they never had any need to look at a map. That was especially true for a wolf who never lost her way even in the darkest forests at night, who only needed to bound up the side of a mountain to find its peak and gaze into the distance to confirm exactly where she was going. Yet Holo had read her fair share of maps on countless occasions because she had sat side by side with Lawrence, gazing at them under candlelight. "This is way is north, and this is the river we came down by boat. We then went south, and we should be around here now." The river that flowed from Salonia spanned the map from right to left, running across the top. Salonia stood on the rightmost edge, and downstream—on the leftmost edge of the map—sat what was likely the port town of Karlan. At the bottom of the map, south of the forest, was what looked like a large pond or a lake and a small drawing of what was likely the ruling lord's manor. Below that, farther south, was a road that ran east to west, marking the bottom of the map. Occupying everything between the north and south edges of the map was an all-consuming gray mass—the forest. The village in which they were staying sat right on the northeastern edge of the massive forest. "According to Meyer, they want to cut down the forest so they can build a road that goes south." An uncomfortably loud crack came from inside Holo's mouth—she must have bitten into an errant piece of cartilage in the jerky. The candlelight shone in her red eyes, and her canines gleamed. "Fools," she said, ripping into a new piece of jerky. "In a merchant's eyes, Karlan and Lord Tonneburg's plans do make sense." The forest spread from the northeast to the southwest, dotted in places by what Lawrence surmised to be hills by name alone. This was not an easy wood to cross, and the seven or so villages in the area sat outside the forest. The only two settlements among the trees sat just inside the perimeter—the forest was truly untouched.

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

Lawrence was hoping to hear more details about the village and the forest from the priest, but the old man was a fervent believer first and foremost; though the villagers respected him, he was not at all knowledgeable about the village or the region's economy. "All I hope for is peace for the souls of Lord Tonneburg and his people," he said sadly. Had Elsa been there, she would have rolled her eyes at this, especially since she traveled all over to reform poorly run churches. And so, dinner was delightful, but ended fruitlessly. Holo seemed unsatisfied with the scant servings of meat at the serene meal. The moment she settled down in their guest room, she immediately undid her pack to fish out some jerky. But she was not as cheerful as she usually was; she only silently sipped on the mead Meyer had gifted her. Though the forest was still in danger, the villagers were not particularly worried about the forest itself, much less the spirits that might have dwelled there. Their greatest concern was the livestock manure. Though she knew it was unreasonable to get angry over this, it was still enough reason for her to sulk. In contrast, Lawrence had only just begun to understand the weight of the situation. And to make up for what he believed was a lacking dinner, he had gone to the priest to borrow something from him. "What is it you've borrowed?" Holo asked dubiously, peering at what he unfolded over the writing desk. "A map." Meyer had mentioned that the port city of Karlan was hoping to redraw the maps. He had also mentioned that Lord Tonneburg had decided to cut down the forest in order to preserve the lively village market. The trick to trade was considering things while standing in another's shoes. "People always gather in churches for one reason or another. Church maps will always be reliable." "What am I looking at?" Not many people could read letters, and that mostly held true for maps as well. The majority of people never left the village where they were born, so they never had any need to look at a map. That was especially true for a wolf who never lost her way even in the darkest forests at night, who only needed to bound up the side of a mountain to find its peak and gaze into the distance to confirm exactly where she was going. Yet Holo had read her fair share of maps on countless occasions because she had sat side by side with Lawrence, gazing at them under candlelight. "This is way is north, and this is the river we came down by boat. We then went south, and we should be around here now." The river that flowed from Salonia spanned the map from right to left, running across the top. Salonia stood on the rightmost edge, and downstream—on the leftmost edge of the map—sat what was likely the port town of Karlan. At the bottom of the map, south of the forest, was what looked like a large pond or a lake and a small drawing of what was likely the ruling lord's manor. Below that, farther south, was a road that ran east to west, marking the bottom of the map. Occupying everything between the north and south edges of the map was an all-consuming gray mass—the forest. The village in which they were staying sat right on the northeastern edge of the massive forest. "According to Meyer, they want to cut down the forest so they can build a road that goes south." An uncomfortably loud crack came from inside Holo's mouth—she must have bitten into an errant piece of cartilage in the jerky. The candlelight shone in her red eyes, and her canines gleamed. "Fools," she said, ripping into a new piece of jerky. "In a merchant's eyes, Karlan and Lord Tonneburg's plans do make sense." The forest spread from the northeast to the southwest, dotted in places by what Lawrence surmised to be hills by name alone. This was not an easy wood to cross, and the seven or so villages in the area sat outside the forest. The only two settlements among the trees sat just inside the perimeter—the forest was truly untouched.

"This is Karlan, the port city. And I guess at the bottom here, this area south of the forest must be a pond or a lake. Either way, there's another small river flowing south from there. And that means if they manage to cut a path through the forest and build a road to the lake, they could easily carry cargo from north to south by boat. And voilà—a convenient trade route." If there were a road that went from the north of the forest to the southern lake, then they could build a pier there, along with warehouses to store cargo and inns to house travelers. Merchants would naturally follow. And due to the dense woods, they would not lack material to raise buildings and build boats. Setting up charcoal-burning huts and smithies would be the first thought of any merchant. The road would connect north and south, opening the way to seaports—it was the perfect trade route for exporting metal, charcoal, and lumber. Lawrence could easily imagine the booming business the village would see. "If people use the road, then the landlord can collect taxes. Lumber will sell like hotcakes. Before long, new villages would pop up and the population would grow. This map would change dramatically." Holo's tail swished back and forth in displeasure. "But it was said that if they do not accept this plan, then the fires of this village will be snuffed out. Why is that?" She pointed to the village in which she and Lawrence were staying. If he were to look out the window, he might be able to see the tip of a giant shapely finger. "That would be because of where Karlan is located. See, look at the forest—" Lawrence pointed at the Tonneburg Woods. "Picture an even bigger map, one that contains the woods and everything around it. This forest stands in the way of Karlan doing any trade with landlocked communities. They have no choice but to rely on the river flowing from Salonia, but that's also obvious to the lords who hold land along the river." Holo lifted her head, then nodded. "They are under their thumbs." Even if ships could reach their harbor, Karlan would have no choice but to watch the products in their warehouses rot if they were unable to do trade with the villages and towns farther inland. The only easy path into the rest of the continent was that river, and if Lawrence were one of the landlords along the river, then he would capitalize on that leverage without a second thought and levy heavy taxes at his checkpoint. That was precisely why Karlan wanted a different path that would allow them easy access to the rest of the continent. Holo played with the piece of jerky sticking out of her mouth. "If Lord Tonneburg were to turn down Karlan's proposal, then the new road would have to take a large detour around the western edge of the forest. They probably used this to threaten the lord." Lawrence traced a finger along the left side of the map. "A new road on the western side of the forest would completely divert the small, but steady, trickle of merchants that pass through this village on their way south. The merchants from Karlan, at the very least, would have no reason to come to the eastern side of the forest, especially when their return trip would require traveling by river with high travel tolls. And so trade that only existed because merchants incidentally stopped by would vanish, and the villagers would have to venture elsewhere to sell their wares. And that's doubly true when there aren't any decent roads." Holo quietly chewed on her jerky, which was still sticking out of her mouth. She was likely thinking back on the rickety bridge they had to cross to get here. "That said, I'm sure there are reasons why Karlan doesn't necessarily want to build a road that runs along the western edge of the forest. If there weren't any, then it would probably be under construction right now."

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

"This is Karlan, the port city. And I guess at the bottom here, this area south of the forest must be a pond or a lake. Either way, there's another small river flowing south from there. And that means if they manage to cut a path through the forest and build a road to the lake, they could easily carry cargo from north to south by boat. And voilà—a convenient trade route." If there were a road that went from the north of the forest to the southern lake, then they could build a pier there, along with warehouses to store cargo and inns to house travelers. Merchants would naturally follow. And due to the dense woods, they would not lack material to raise buildings and build boats. Setting up charcoal-burning huts and smithies would be the first thought of any merchant. The road would connect north and south, opening the way to seaports—it was the perfect trade route for exporting metal, charcoal, and lumber. Lawrence could easily imagine the booming business the village would see. "If people use the road, then the landlord can collect taxes. Lumber will sell like hotcakes. Before long, new villages would pop up and the population would grow. This map would change dramatically." Holo's tail swished back and forth in displeasure. "But it was said that if they do not accept this plan, then the fires of this village will be snuffed out. Why is that?" She pointed to the village in which she and Lawrence were staying. If he were to look out the window, he might be able to see the tip of a giant shapely finger. "That would be because of where Karlan is located. See, look at the forest—" Lawrence pointed at the Tonneburg Woods. "Picture an even bigger map, one that contains the woods and everything around it. This forest stands in the way of Karlan doing any trade with landlocked communities. They have no choice but to rely on the river flowing from Salonia, but that's also obvious to the lords who hold land along the river." Holo lifted her head, then nodded. "They are under their thumbs." Even if ships could reach their harbor, Karlan would have no choice but to watch the products in their warehouses rot if they were unable to do trade with the villages and towns farther inland. The only easy path into the rest of the continent was that river, and if Lawrence were one of the landlords along the river, then he would capitalize on that leverage without a second thought and levy heavy taxes at his checkpoint. That was precisely why Karlan wanted a different path that would allow them easy access to the rest of the continent. Holo played with the piece of jerky sticking out of her mouth. "If Lord Tonneburg were to turn down Karlan's proposal, then the new road would have to take a large detour around the western edge of the forest. They probably used this to threaten the lord." Lawrence traced a finger along the left side of the map. "A new road on the western side of the forest would completely divert the small, but steady, trickle of merchants that pass through this village on their way south. The merchants from Karlan, at the very least, would have no reason to come to the eastern side of the forest, especially when their return trip would require traveling by river with high travel tolls. And so trade that only existed because merchants incidentally stopped by would vanish, and the villagers would have to venture elsewhere to sell their wares. And that's doubly true when there aren't any decent roads." Holo quietly chewed on her jerky, which was still sticking out of her mouth. She was likely thinking back on the rickety bridge they had to cross to get here. "That said, I'm sure there are reasons why Karlan doesn't necessarily want to build a road that runs along the western edge of the forest. If there weren't any, then it would probably be under construction right now."

It was likely that Karlan had recently gained ambitions to develop and flourish as a port city. But it was surrounded on all sides by powerful individuals who were already well established—there was not much room for Karlan to carve out a niche. In his mind, Lawrence pictured a child who was physically growing, but was uncomfortable due to their small clothes. "Building a new road isn't very easy to begin with," Lawrence said, his gaze dropping to the flask of mead in Holo's hands. She glumly handed Meyer's gift to him. After a sip, he returned it to her and continued. "It's easy to collect taxes on a river, but that isn't the case with regular roads. And so landlords typically make up for the cost of building those roads and their maintenance by forcing the commonfolk who live nearby to work on it. Those people have no choice in the matter—they typically spend three or four days a week laboring with absolutely no compensation. And in the meantime, their fields go neglected, and their lives get harder. I honestly thought they were going to tell me that their village was going to die out because of these troubles." But all the mayor talked about was the cycle of the livestock, the manure that fertilized the wheat fields, and the forest that supported the livestock. "What we know so far makes it seem like even if they are forced to work on the development of the land, it won't be so bad. That means Lord Tonneburg is probably a better person than we think, and that he has little intention of exploiting the villagers. But in that case, something else will have to make up the difference." Holo brought the flask to her lips but did not drink. Her intelligent eyes stared at the map. "Building a road is hard enough under normal circumstances. It's that much more difficult to do in heavily forested land. At the same time, they'll get quite a lot of lumber from cutting down trees to make room for the road. And they could easily make up for the cost of building the road after factoring in the profits that will be generated by the smithies and other things that come later. Karlan seems to be especially keen on getting lumber, so even if they compromise on a great deal with Lord Tonneburg, they probably thought it all added up. And from Lord Tonneburg's perspective, he probably thought it would be more beneficial to take them up on this proposal instead of watching helplessly as a new road wraps around the forest...even if it means losing a part of the forest's wealth." "Mm." "And Meyer seems to be a skilled ranger. I bet Lord Tonneburg already asked him to find the best route through the forest." It was then that he and the Karlan council saw they could both profit from this and decided to work together. "That's what things look like in the merchant's world," Lawrence said. "What does the wolf think?" Holo huffed a little sigh at the question, readjusting her position on the bed. She then whipped her head to the side, ripping apart the sinewy jerky in her mouth; the only times she ever really acted wolflike in this manner was when she was in a bad mood. "Only the most witless of fools would build a road here." Lawrence looked at the map, and then to Holo. "You mean like how the mayor explained?" Everyone would lose everything the forest had to offer. Even if Holo did not quite understand how the manure from free-roaming livestock fertilized wheat fields, she was intimately familiar with how the plants in the forest grew after watching them for countless years. "Humans will walk here, they will burn charcoal along the paths, and then create metal, no? At that point, the road ceases to be a simple path in the forest. It divides one wood in two, creating entirely separate places." Noticing Lawrence's weak response, Holo continued with a sigh. "Shall we consider the fox?" "The fox?" "You merchants think of the land in your reliance for roads for your cargo. That makes you a cat. Cats claim the paths that go from house to house."

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

It was likely that Karlan had recently gained ambitions to develop and flourish as a port city. But it was surrounded on all sides by powerful individuals who were already well established—there was not much room for Karlan to carve out a niche. In his mind, Lawrence pictured a child who was physically growing, but was uncomfortable due to their small clothes. "Building a new road isn't very easy to begin with," Lawrence said, his gaze dropping to the flask of mead in Holo's hands. She glumly handed Meyer's gift to him. After a sip, he returned it to her and continued. "It's easy to collect taxes on a river, but that isn't the case with regular roads. And so landlords typically make up for the cost of building those roads and their maintenance by forcing the commonfolk who live nearby to work on it. Those people have no choice in the matter—they typically spend three or four days a week laboring with absolutely no compensation. And in the meantime, their fields go neglected, and their lives get harder. I honestly thought they were going to tell me that their village was going to die out because of these troubles." But all the mayor talked about was the cycle of the livestock, the manure that fertilized the wheat fields, and the forest that supported the livestock. "What we know so far makes it seem like even if they are forced to work on the development of the land, it won't be so bad. That means Lord Tonneburg is probably a better person than we think, and that he has little intention of exploiting the villagers. But in that case, something else will have to make up the difference." Holo brought the flask to her lips but did not drink. Her intelligent eyes stared at the map. "Building a road is hard enough under normal circumstances. It's that much more difficult to do in heavily forested land. At the same time, they'll get quite a lot of lumber from cutting down trees to make room for the road. And they could easily make up for the cost of building the road after factoring in the profits that will be generated by the smithies and other things that come later. Karlan seems to be especially keen on getting lumber, so even if they compromise on a great deal with Lord Tonneburg, they probably thought it all added up. And from Lord Tonneburg's perspective, he probably thought it would be more beneficial to take them up on this proposal instead of watching helplessly as a new road wraps around the forest...even if it means losing a part of the forest's wealth." "Mm." "And Meyer seems to be a skilled ranger. I bet Lord Tonneburg already asked him to find the best route through the forest." It was then that he and the Karlan council saw they could both profit from this and decided to work together. "That's what things look like in the merchant's world," Lawrence said. "What does the wolf think?" Holo huffed a little sigh at the question, readjusting her position on the bed. She then whipped her head to the side, ripping apart the sinewy jerky in her mouth; the only times she ever really acted wolflike in this manner was when she was in a bad mood. "Only the most witless of fools would build a road here." Lawrence looked at the map, and then to Holo. "You mean like how the mayor explained?" Everyone would lose everything the forest had to offer. Even if Holo did not quite understand how the manure from free-roaming livestock fertilized wheat fields, she was intimately familiar with how the plants in the forest grew after watching them for countless years. "Humans will walk here, they will burn charcoal along the paths, and then create metal, no? At that point, the road ceases to be a simple path in the forest. It divides one wood in two, creating entirely separate places." Noticing Lawrence's weak response, Holo continued with a sigh. "Shall we consider the fox?" "The fox?" "You merchants think of the land in your reliance for roads for your cargo. That makes you a cat. Cats claim the paths that go from house to house."

"These landowning lords are stereotypical mutts. They draw the lines on their papers telling everyone precisely what belongs to them." "And what about the foxes?" "Foxes appear to be like both, but they are exceptionally greedy. They cannot live in smaller forests. Splitting a large wood in twain does not create two territories. It will simply be too small for the foxes, and then they will no longer have any place to live." Huh. Lawrence was impressed, but he was not entirely sure how this was relevant. Sensing this, Holo looked at him like he was a disappointing apprentice. "No foxes means more rats, and without any predators, the fawns will thrive." "Hmm. I guess you're right." "An excess of deer and mice means saplings shall be eaten away, and that will cause the forest to grow thin. All that will remain will be higher trees that are covered in needly leaves, making the wood dark and quiet. 'Tis not a suitable wood for fattening pigs and goats." The needly-leafed trees she mentioned were likely conifers. Broad-leafed trees, ones that struggled to reach greater heights, made easy meals for deer and other critters of the forest, so only the taller coniferous trees could survive uncontrolled booms of wildlife. And when the canopy inevitably started blocking sunlight from reaching the forest floor, new grasses would not grow there. Just as the mayor so passionately proclaimed, it would have a huge impact on the undergrowth that indirectly supported the wheat fields. "'Twould look like a nice acorn—one full of holes that has most certainly been hollowed out by pests." If a road cut through the forest, with charcoal-burning huts and smithies built along it, and Karlan's lumber was felled here instead of being brought in from Salonia, then the forest's interior would change drastically. It was very much the same as an insect burrowing through an acorn and consuming the insides. "From my point of view, forests such as these will eventually come back to life given enough time." From the way she spoke, Lawrence knew right away that she was speaking about spans of time that were far beyond the scope of human lives. It naturally showed that what the mayor and Meyer were saying was no exaggeration. "But Meyer must've explained that to Lord Tonneburg, right?" Lawrence asked. In response, Holo only took a silent sip from the flask. She must have also thought that, considering his skill, Meyer was aware of all of this. That meant either the topic was too foreign for the lord to comprehend, or he understood and still decided it could not turn out that badly and went ahead with Karlan's proposal anyway. Whatever the truth, that led a very vexed Meyer to throw himself at Lawrence and Holo's mercy after spotting them in Salonia. Lawrence sighed and stood from his chair. Once he sat down beside the sullen wolf, he unfolded himself to lay on the bed. As he stared at the ceiling, Holo peered down at him with an indescribable expression. "It's honestly a good plan, at least on paper." And that was why Lord Tonneburg decided to go along with it. While there were some concerning details, a deal without apprehensions was either a scam or had simply not been examined thoroughly enough. It was hard to consider the lord's decision a foolish one. Meyer had asked Lawrence to fix his lord's miscalculations, somehow persuading him that the plan itself was not viable at all. Then what is it they must do to protect both forest and wheat fields? Lawrence heaved a great sigh, and his eyes darted to Holo's face as she remained sitting. Holo was sharp—she noticed his gaze right away, and her ears straightened. But since she did not turn to look at him, Lawrence spoke. "Just to be clear, I'm not secretly thinking that we've been thrown into a cumbersome problem or anything." The hairs on Holo's tail stiffened, like a rabbit taking a deep breath. "Even a dog will find a bone if it goes for a walk, they say." ***

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

"These landowning lords are stereotypical mutts. They draw the lines on their papers telling everyone precisely what belongs to them." "And what about the foxes?" "Foxes appear to be like both, but they are exceptionally greedy. They cannot live in smaller forests. Splitting a large wood in twain does not create two territories. It will simply be too small for the foxes, and then they will no longer have any place to live." Huh. Lawrence was impressed, but he was not entirely sure how this was relevant. Sensing this, Holo looked at him like he was a disappointing apprentice. "No foxes means more rats, and without any predators, the fawns will thrive." "Hmm. I guess you're right." "An excess of deer and mice means saplings shall be eaten away, and that will cause the forest to grow thin. All that will remain will be higher trees that are covered in needly leaves, making the wood dark and quiet. 'Tis not a suitable wood for fattening pigs and goats." The needly-leafed trees she mentioned were likely conifers. Broad-leafed trees, ones that struggled to reach greater heights, made easy meals for deer and other critters of the forest, so only the taller coniferous trees could survive uncontrolled booms of wildlife. And when the canopy inevitably started blocking sunlight from reaching the forest floor, new grasses would not grow there. Just as the mayor so passionately proclaimed, it would have a huge impact on the undergrowth that indirectly supported the wheat fields. "'Twould look like a nice acorn—one full of holes that has most certainly been hollowed out by pests." If a road cut through the forest, with charcoal-burning huts and smithies built along it, and Karlan's lumber was felled here instead of being brought in from Salonia, then the forest's interior would change drastically. It was very much the same as an insect burrowing through an acorn and consuming the insides. "From my point of view, forests such as these will eventually come back to life given enough time." From the way she spoke, Lawrence knew right away that she was speaking about spans of time that were far beyond the scope of human lives. It naturally showed that what the mayor and Meyer were saying was no exaggeration. "But Meyer must've explained that to Lord Tonneburg, right?" Lawrence asked. In response, Holo only took a silent sip from the flask. She must have also thought that, considering his skill, Meyer was aware of all of this. That meant either the topic was too foreign for the lord to comprehend, or he understood and still decided it could not turn out that badly and went ahead with Karlan's proposal anyway. Whatever the truth, that led a very vexed Meyer to throw himself at Lawrence and Holo's mercy after spotting them in Salonia. Lawrence sighed and stood from his chair. Once he sat down beside the sullen wolf, he unfolded himself to lay on the bed. As he stared at the ceiling, Holo peered down at him with an indescribable expression. "It's honestly a good plan, at least on paper." And that was why Lord Tonneburg decided to go along with it. While there were some concerning details, a deal without apprehensions was either a scam or had simply not been examined thoroughly enough. It was hard to consider the lord's decision a foolish one. Meyer had asked Lawrence to fix his lord's miscalculations, somehow persuading him that the plan itself was not viable at all. Then what is it they must do to protect both forest and wheat fields? Lawrence heaved a great sigh, and his eyes darted to Holo's face as she remained sitting. Holo was sharp—she noticed his gaze right away, and her ears straightened. But since she did not turn to look at him, Lawrence spoke. "Just to be clear, I'm not secretly thinking that we've been thrown into a cumbersome problem or anything." The hairs on Holo's tail stiffened, like a rabbit taking a deep breath. "Even a dog will find a bone if it goes for a walk, they say." ***

"It's an old human saying. It means that once you act, there will always be consequences." Lawrence gave a small smile as he moved his hand, burying his fingers into the fur of her tail. She immediately whipped it out of range, bringing it back only to smack the back of his hand. "Fortune and misfortune are neighbors." Lawrence repeated the motion, this time tangling his fingers through the fur. "Both good and bad things ebb and flow, like interwoven strands of rope. And the rope itself is sturdy enough to hold what's most important together." As Holo stared at Lawrence's hand playing with her tail, a look of understanding crossed her expression right before it scrunched into a frown. "The latter half of that sounds like a falsehood." "It's not a saying yet, but I bet it'd really take off in Nyohhira." Holo narrowed her eyes and dropped her shoulders, tired. "You know, I'm glad we came across this problem here. If Salonia's wheat harvest got worse, then it would eventually start affecting the prices of the wheat we order in Nyohhira. And even if we fail to get through to Lord Tonneburg, we can get ahead of the issue and start thinking about what we can do to prepare." There was a special sort of excitement in his voice when he spoke of commerce. Holo listened to him, not once doubting him. "So long as we don't make a total mess of this, I think it'll end in our favor either way." Lawrence had told himself falsehoods in order to convince himself to take on Meyer's request, but what he said now was no lie. He stopped digging his fingers into Holo's fur and began to run his palm along the length of her tail. Though she had fallen behind on maintenance what with all the hangovers and the travel, her tail was still as soft as ever. She did not like having her tail played with, but despite her grouchy attitude, she relented and allowed him to do as he pleased. Perhaps she felt like she owed him a debt for getting him involved in a problem that seemingly had no solution. Yet just as it was said that merchants had two tongues, Lawrence did, in fact, have an idea. He played with the fur on her tail as he gathered his thoughts. Lawrence did not consider himself exceptionally gifted, but he did have an advantage over other merchants. To be more specific, he had Holo—and because she was at his side, he could approach things from angles other humans could never imagine. This plot to cut down the forest was among those things. "I guess the goal is to make it seem like Lord Tonneburg's calculations are off. That seems manageable enough." Holo's eyes widened. "Really?" "Probably. But there's something we need to check. Tomorrow we'll talk to Meyer and..." Lawrence gave a loud yawn as he talked. They had been traveling for days and days, and now faced with his first big problem in a long while, he realized that he had been using his brain more than he had thought. He knew he had to blow out the candle, close the window, and get under the blankets since the nights were growing colder, but it was too much for him; his eyes remained closed. But not a moment later the light vanished from beyond his eyelids, and he heard the creak of the window shutters closing. He felt the wooden frame of the bed shift, and soon, he was covered in blankets. Though this was normally a routine that Lawrence always carried out, there was an exception like this about once a year. "I am the wolf who presides over the harvest," Holo murmured beneath the covers. That night, Lawrence dreamed he was a seed-bed, buried in the earth. I must work hard to produce beautiful blossoms, he thought. Lawrence joined the old priest in morning prayer, said a word of thanks as he munched on the stale bread that sat on the altar as an offering to God, then entered Meyer's care.

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

"It's an old human saying. It means that once you act, there will always be consequences." Lawrence gave a small smile as he moved his hand, burying his fingers into the fur of her tail. She immediately whipped it out of range, bringing it back only to smack the back of his hand. "Fortune and misfortune are neighbors." Lawrence repeated the motion, this time tangling his fingers through the fur. "Both good and bad things ebb and flow, like interwoven strands of rope. And the rope itself is sturdy enough to hold what's most important together." As Holo stared at Lawrence's hand playing with her tail, a look of understanding crossed her expression right before it scrunched into a frown. "The latter half of that sounds like a falsehood." "It's not a saying yet, but I bet it'd really take off in Nyohhira." Holo narrowed her eyes and dropped her shoulders, tired. "You know, I'm glad we came across this problem here. If Salonia's wheat harvest got worse, then it would eventually start affecting the prices of the wheat we order in Nyohhira. And even if we fail to get through to Lord Tonneburg, we can get ahead of the issue and start thinking about what we can do to prepare." There was a special sort of excitement in his voice when he spoke of commerce. Holo listened to him, not once doubting him. "So long as we don't make a total mess of this, I think it'll end in our favor either way." Lawrence had told himself falsehoods in order to convince himself to take on Meyer's request, but what he said now was no lie. He stopped digging his fingers into Holo's fur and began to run his palm along the length of her tail. Though she had fallen behind on maintenance what with all the hangovers and the travel, her tail was still as soft as ever. She did not like having her tail played with, but despite her grouchy attitude, she relented and allowed him to do as he pleased. Perhaps she felt like she owed him a debt for getting him involved in a problem that seemingly had no solution. Yet just as it was said that merchants had two tongues, Lawrence did, in fact, have an idea. He played with the fur on her tail as he gathered his thoughts. Lawrence did not consider himself exceptionally gifted, but he did have an advantage over other merchants. To be more specific, he had Holo—and because she was at his side, he could approach things from angles other humans could never imagine. This plot to cut down the forest was among those things. "I guess the goal is to make it seem like Lord Tonneburg's calculations are off. That seems manageable enough." Holo's eyes widened. "Really?" "Probably. But there's something we need to check. Tomorrow we'll talk to Meyer and..." Lawrence gave a loud yawn as he talked. They had been traveling for days and days, and now faced with his first big problem in a long while, he realized that he had been using his brain more than he had thought. He knew he had to blow out the candle, close the window, and get under the blankets since the nights were growing colder, but it was too much for him; his eyes remained closed. But not a moment later the light vanished from beyond his eyelids, and he heard the creak of the window shutters closing. He felt the wooden frame of the bed shift, and soon, he was covered in blankets. Though this was normally a routine that Lawrence always carried out, there was an exception like this about once a year. "I am the wolf who presides over the harvest," Holo murmured beneath the covers. That night, Lawrence dreamed he was a seed-bed, buried in the earth. I must work hard to produce beautiful blossoms, he thought. Lawrence joined the old priest in morning prayer, said a word of thanks as he munched on the stale bread that sat on the altar as an offering to God, then entered Meyer's care.

"I also thought there must be something I could show you to help you, Sir Lawrence," Meyer said to him, smiling at Holo as they walked around the village in the early hours, watching her bite into a loaf as big as her head. "So...you'd like to see the village smithy?" Though it seemed as though he wanted to suggest that visiting the village market or the wheat fields might bring them closer to the core of the problem, Lawrence only nodded in response. "Of course." Meyer looked worried that Lawrence might not fully grasp what the mayor told him the day before, but Lawrence had business in the smithy. Unable to turn him down, Meyer led the two of them into the forest. A smithy used a great amount of water and wood, so many of them were often situated among the trees. "And yes, last night, the father was gracious enough to allow me to study a map of the area. If that map is to be trusted, then I believe Lord Tonneburg's decision was a sound one." Meyer nodded. Lawrence continued, "Am I correct in assuming that the port of Karlan is desperate to build a road headed inland so that it may develop further?" "You are. Karlan has a good port, but their only lifeline to the rest of the continent is the river you traveled a few days past, all because these woods sit in the way. But..." Meyer faltered as a herd of sheep and goats cut across their path. The villager following the livestock offered Meyer a polite greeting—it was likely they were about to venture into the forest. "I question whether people would use a road that cuts through the forest in the first place, in all honesty." The mayor might have been different, but Meyer was not only thinking of the forest's devastation, but also possible mistakes in Lord Tonneburg's calculations. "You don't think profits will be as high as what Karlan has promised Lord Tonneburg?" Said lord was expecting quite a tidy profit from various sources in exchange for cutting down the valuable forest. Merchants from Karlan would use the new road, and the tolls levied from their passage were projected to be very lucrative indeed. "A path through the woods will seem convenient at first, yes. One can get on near the stream at the southern edge of the forest, then travel all the way to the Roef River. But there are no towns of note along the way, and even though the larger cities of Kerube and Lenos sit down and upriver respectively, Lenos is more akin to Kerube's loyal servant, and Kerube is like a mean-spirited older brother to Karlan. They are both port cities who deal in similar goods." That reminded Lawrence of the rope analogy he gave Holo the night before. Towns had their own commercial areas, and those territories were comparable to the turf of cats and dogs. There was a limited supply for exported and imported goods, and the one who could secure the most was the winner. "Kerube will not take kindly to Karlan trying to intrude on their territory. And the reason Karlan does not want to use a road on the western edge of the forest, one that passes near the sea, is because that would put them inside Kerube territory, and the disputes over tariffs would be endless." All that Lawrence had guessed after analyzing the map was mostly correct. And Meyer, too, seemed to believe that Karlan was perfectly aware of all of this. If that was true, then the kind Lord Tonneburg was being duped, and he would wind up with the short end of the stick. Meyer's sharp hunter's eyes had latched onto that possibility. "But I am no merchant. If I were to say such a thing, my lord would not heed my warning. It would be like me giving advice on how to fish in the ocean—hardly convincing." Who said what was extremely important. "And the forest undergrowth and wheat are topics far too mystifying for him. Only those who spend most of their time among the trees, within the fields, and beneath the vast sky will understand."

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

"I also thought there must be something I could show you to help you, Sir Lawrence," Meyer said to him, smiling at Holo as they walked around the village in the early hours, watching her bite into a loaf as big as her head. "So...you'd like to see the village smithy?" Though it seemed as though he wanted to suggest that visiting the village market or the wheat fields might bring them closer to the core of the problem, Lawrence only nodded in response. "Of course." Meyer looked worried that Lawrence might not fully grasp what the mayor told him the day before, but Lawrence had business in the smithy. Unable to turn him down, Meyer led the two of them into the forest. A smithy used a great amount of water and wood, so many of them were often situated among the trees. "And yes, last night, the father was gracious enough to allow me to study a map of the area. If that map is to be trusted, then I believe Lord Tonneburg's decision was a sound one." Meyer nodded. Lawrence continued, "Am I correct in assuming that the port of Karlan is desperate to build a road headed inland so that it may develop further?" "You are. Karlan has a good port, but their only lifeline to the rest of the continent is the river you traveled a few days past, all because these woods sit in the way. But..." Meyer faltered as a herd of sheep and goats cut across their path. The villager following the livestock offered Meyer a polite greeting—it was likely they were about to venture into the forest. "I question whether people would use a road that cuts through the forest in the first place, in all honesty." The mayor might have been different, but Meyer was not only thinking of the forest's devastation, but also possible mistakes in Lord Tonneburg's calculations. "You don't think profits will be as high as what Karlan has promised Lord Tonneburg?" Said lord was expecting quite a tidy profit from various sources in exchange for cutting down the valuable forest. Merchants from Karlan would use the new road, and the tolls levied from their passage were projected to be very lucrative indeed. "A path through the woods will seem convenient at first, yes. One can get on near the stream at the southern edge of the forest, then travel all the way to the Roef River. But there are no towns of note along the way, and even though the larger cities of Kerube and Lenos sit down and upriver respectively, Lenos is more akin to Kerube's loyal servant, and Kerube is like a mean-spirited older brother to Karlan. They are both port cities who deal in similar goods." That reminded Lawrence of the rope analogy he gave Holo the night before. Towns had their own commercial areas, and those territories were comparable to the turf of cats and dogs. There was a limited supply for exported and imported goods, and the one who could secure the most was the winner. "Kerube will not take kindly to Karlan trying to intrude on their territory. And the reason Karlan does not want to use a road on the western edge of the forest, one that passes near the sea, is because that would put them inside Kerube territory, and the disputes over tariffs would be endless." All that Lawrence had guessed after analyzing the map was mostly correct. And Meyer, too, seemed to believe that Karlan was perfectly aware of all of this. If that was true, then the kind Lord Tonneburg was being duped, and he would wind up with the short end of the stick. Meyer's sharp hunter's eyes had latched onto that possibility. "But I am no merchant. If I were to say such a thing, my lord would not heed my warning. It would be like me giving advice on how to fish in the ocean—hardly convincing." Who said what was extremely important. "And the forest undergrowth and wheat are topics far too mystifying for him. Only those who spend most of their time among the trees, within the fields, and beneath the vast sky will understand."

But Lawrence did not feel particularly pessimistic, despite what Meyer was saying. He was rather confident that, if he acted on what he thought about as he petted Holo's tail the previous night, then he could plant the seed of doubt in Lord Tonneburg. As they followed Meyer's lead away from the village, there was an abrupt stop in the line of buildings, and the trees grew thick. After they climbed a gentle slope, they found themselves in the deep forest. The paths around the village were comprised of packed earth, ones where a single pebble would stand out sorely. But it was soon grass that cushioned their footsteps, which then became a carpet of humus. And there was yet another layer of dried foliage on top of that, which made them feel like they were walking on clouds. The air was moist in the morning forest; if Lawrence closed his eyes, he could easily picture himself back in Nyohhira. But the scent here was different. When that thought crossed his mind, he heard a rustle of leaves above him, and when he looked up, he spotted a squirrel running along the branches of the trees. A foolish little mouse darted out from beneath the dried leaves at his feet, rushing to hide in a nearby tree. This forest was teeming with much more life than the ones surrounding Nyohhira. They walked for a while, and Lawrence spoke with Meyer along the way, but when Meyer went ahead to check the roads just as he did the day before, Holo murmured, "'Tis a good forest." "This apparently used to be a river." The path, carefully cleared of trees, was more sunken into the ground that the rest of the earth around it. Whenever it rained, the water slowly scraped away at the ground, forming a ditch, and even the river that formed as a result could change its flow as a result of fallen trees and leaf accumulation. At some point, Holo had told him in the deep mountains of Nyohhira that the forest was everchanging, and he could see that the Tonneburg Woods were undoubtedly full of life. According to what Meyer said, the Tonneburg Woods and its environs had a lot of springwater, and it was likely due to that there were a lot of undulations in its geography. If they were to build a road here, it would likely follow the bends of this old river. And now that Lawrence had seen the forest for himself, he was confident in his prediction. It would likely go well if they followed through on the plan. Whether Holo knew what Lawrence was thinking or not, she did not ask for details when dawn broke, nor did he explain. He wanted a specific situation to help him explain. As they passed beneath the tree cover, Lawrence felt like he had become a little mouse. Eventually, they spotted the road ahead of them drenched in sunlight. There was a clearing in the dense forest where a quiet pond sat—the perfect place for a witch to live. And sitting beside the pond were two buildings nestled side by side—old, sagging, and covered in moss. "What an awful smell," Holo complained. Lawrence chuckled. As they neared the building with Meyer at their side, he could tell right away that it smelled of charcoal and metal. It was different from the scents of the forest; this smell scraped at the inside of his nostrils. "Well, if it isn't Meyer!" One of the two buildings was more like a covered shed without any walls. Beneath it sat ironware that was no longer functional and a mound of coal. Practically buried beneath it all was a middle-aged man working, steam rising from his bare torso. "Another busy day, smith?" "You bet. Any spare moment I got makes me think the forest is gonna swallow me whole." The smith glanced back over his shoulder and peeled off his thick leather gloves before appraising Lawrence and Holo. "Guess you haven't brought me apprentices?" With a huff, Holo turned away—a gesture, perhaps, done on behalf of all the forest dwellers in the world. Lawrence gave a nod and a smile in greeting instead.

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

But Lawrence did not feel particularly pessimistic, despite what Meyer was saying. He was rather confident that, if he acted on what he thought about as he petted Holo's tail the previous night, then he could plant the seed of doubt in Lord Tonneburg. As they followed Meyer's lead away from the village, there was an abrupt stop in the line of buildings, and the trees grew thick. After they climbed a gentle slope, they found themselves in the deep forest. The paths around the village were comprised of packed earth, ones where a single pebble would stand out sorely. But it was soon grass that cushioned their footsteps, which then became a carpet of humus. And there was yet another layer of dried foliage on top of that, which made them feel like they were walking on clouds. The air was moist in the morning forest; if Lawrence closed his eyes, he could easily picture himself back in Nyohhira. But the scent here was different. When that thought crossed his mind, he heard a rustle of leaves above him, and when he looked up, he spotted a squirrel running along the branches of the trees. A foolish little mouse darted out from beneath the dried leaves at his feet, rushing to hide in a nearby tree. This forest was teeming with much more life than the ones surrounding Nyohhira. They walked for a while, and Lawrence spoke with Meyer along the way, but when Meyer went ahead to check the roads just as he did the day before, Holo murmured, "'Tis a good forest." "This apparently used to be a river." The path, carefully cleared of trees, was more sunken into the ground that the rest of the earth around it. Whenever it rained, the water slowly scraped away at the ground, forming a ditch, and even the river that formed as a result could change its flow as a result of fallen trees and leaf accumulation. At some point, Holo had told him in the deep mountains of Nyohhira that the forest was everchanging, and he could see that the Tonneburg Woods were undoubtedly full of life. According to what Meyer said, the Tonneburg Woods and its environs had a lot of springwater, and it was likely due to that there were a lot of undulations in its geography. If they were to build a road here, it would likely follow the bends of this old river. And now that Lawrence had seen the forest for himself, he was confident in his prediction. It would likely go well if they followed through on the plan. Whether Holo knew what Lawrence was thinking or not, she did not ask for details when dawn broke, nor did he explain. He wanted a specific situation to help him explain. As they passed beneath the tree cover, Lawrence felt like he had become a little mouse. Eventually, they spotted the road ahead of them drenched in sunlight. There was a clearing in the dense forest where a quiet pond sat—the perfect place for a witch to live. And sitting beside the pond were two buildings nestled side by side—old, sagging, and covered in moss. "What an awful smell," Holo complained. Lawrence chuckled. As they neared the building with Meyer at their side, he could tell right away that it smelled of charcoal and metal. It was different from the scents of the forest; this smell scraped at the inside of his nostrils. "Well, if it isn't Meyer!" One of the two buildings was more like a covered shed without any walls. Beneath it sat ironware that was no longer functional and a mound of coal. Practically buried beneath it all was a middle-aged man working, steam rising from his bare torso. "Another busy day, smith?" "You bet. Any spare moment I got makes me think the forest is gonna swallow me whole." The smith glanced back over his shoulder and peeled off his thick leather gloves before appraising Lawrence and Holo. "Guess you haven't brought me apprentices?" With a huff, Holo turned away—a gesture, perhaps, done on behalf of all the forest dwellers in the world. Lawrence gave a nod and a smile in greeting instead.

When Meyer introduced them, the smith gave a nod in understanding. "My apologies, then. It's mighty smoky out here. Let's talk inside." He must have thought Holo was upset because she did not appreciate the metallic smoke that rose from the furnace. The smith opened the door to the neighboring building and stepped inside. Meyer followed after him, and as Lawrence moved to do the same, he realized Holo did not. He turned to look at her. For a moment, he thought it was because she did not want to step into a smith's house, but she was instead staring distantly into the trees. It was almost as though her friends of the forest were calling to her. "Holo," Lawrence said her name a bit forcefully. "Don't leave me." Absently, she turned around to look at him. "I have too much jerky to eat all by myself." Light soon returned to those red eyes that had been peering deep into the distant woods. For a moment, like a dream, it seemed as though Holo was on the verge of melting into the very forest itself, but her image became sharp and distinct once again. "Indeed you do. The human world is filled with more delicacies than what the forest can offer." Now was not the time for her return to the forest. Lawrence accompanied Holo as she stepped into the building just as the smith started pouring them mugs of strong ale. The still was the smith's pride and joy, something he forged with his own hands. And after draining his mug of homemade ale like it was water, he resentfully spat, "The forest is like a spring. If you take more than what comes out, then it'll dry up! That's just common sense!" The building they were in was terribly old. The smithy itself had likely been in operation for generations, the rights to use this parcel of land passed down as time went on. Outdated tools sat proudly on the walls. It was unlikely they would be usable in a decade or two. Lawrence scanned the décor and quickly found what he was looking for. He also noticed how Holo's expression hardened the moment they stepped inside. "We've got to show Lord Tonneburg that his plan's wrong, not necessarily to keep the smithy running, but for the sake of the forest." Building a road through the forest, extracting lumber, and building new smithies would be a direct encroachment on the smith's business. It was not particularly surprising that he was against the plan. "I've traveled various lands, and you rarely come across forests like this one. I would like it if they left it as is," Lawrence said, and the smith nodded in agreement. "That's why I will be visiting Lord Tonneburg, in hopes that he will reconsider his decision." They were sitting in what was essentially the home of every forest dweller's mortal enemy. At that thought, Lawrence cast a quick glance at a bored Holo before continuing. "How much labor do you think it will take to establish a new smithy in this forest?" "A...huh?" That question took the smith by surprise. The expression on his face made it seem like he was being let down. "How much...labor?" "Yes. I suppose I could rephrase the question and ask how easy you think it would be to build a smithy." "Listen, mister merchant. What I mean is that I'd never build a new smithy. That's silly talk." The smith crossed his muscular arms across his chest—he was the very picture of a stubborn forest-dwelling craftsman. Though his mouth was hidden behind a beard singed from the heat of the forge, Lawrence could tell it was curving downward in a frown. The man was imposing. He was overflowing with pride, like he would never move no matter what happened. Lawrence could practically hear him saying that he always solved his problems by himself and he would continue to do so. Lawrence had not seen any helpers or assistants around, so he would've believed the smith.

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

When Meyer introduced them, the smith gave a nod in understanding. "My apologies, then. It's mighty smoky out here. Let's talk inside." He must have thought Holo was upset because she did not appreciate the metallic smoke that rose from the furnace. The smith opened the door to the neighboring building and stepped inside. Meyer followed after him, and as Lawrence moved to do the same, he realized Holo did not. He turned to look at her. For a moment, he thought it was because she did not want to step into a smith's house, but she was instead staring distantly into the trees. It was almost as though her friends of the forest were calling to her. "Holo," Lawrence said her name a bit forcefully. "Don't leave me." Absently, she turned around to look at him. "I have too much jerky to eat all by myself." Light soon returned to those red eyes that had been peering deep into the distant woods. For a moment, like a dream, it seemed as though Holo was on the verge of melting into the very forest itself, but her image became sharp and distinct once again. "Indeed you do. The human world is filled with more delicacies than what the forest can offer." Now was not the time for her return to the forest. Lawrence accompanied Holo as she stepped into the building just as the smith started pouring them mugs of strong ale. The still was the smith's pride and joy, something he forged with his own hands. And after draining his mug of homemade ale like it was water, he resentfully spat, "The forest is like a spring. If you take more than what comes out, then it'll dry up! That's just common sense!" The building they were in was terribly old. The smithy itself had likely been in operation for generations, the rights to use this parcel of land passed down as time went on. Outdated tools sat proudly on the walls. It was unlikely they would be usable in a decade or two. Lawrence scanned the décor and quickly found what he was looking for. He also noticed how Holo's expression hardened the moment they stepped inside. "We've got to show Lord Tonneburg that his plan's wrong, not necessarily to keep the smithy running, but for the sake of the forest." Building a road through the forest, extracting lumber, and building new smithies would be a direct encroachment on the smith's business. It was not particularly surprising that he was against the plan. "I've traveled various lands, and you rarely come across forests like this one. I would like it if they left it as is," Lawrence said, and the smith nodded in agreement. "That's why I will be visiting Lord Tonneburg, in hopes that he will reconsider his decision." They were sitting in what was essentially the home of every forest dweller's mortal enemy. At that thought, Lawrence cast a quick glance at a bored Holo before continuing. "How much labor do you think it will take to establish a new smithy in this forest?" "A...huh?" That question took the smith by surprise. The expression on his face made it seem like he was being let down. "How much...labor?" "Yes. I suppose I could rephrase the question and ask how easy you think it would be to build a smithy." "Listen, mister merchant. What I mean is that I'd never build a new smithy. That's silly talk." The smith crossed his muscular arms across his chest—he was the very picture of a stubborn forest-dwelling craftsman. Though his mouth was hidden behind a beard singed from the heat of the forge, Lawrence could tell it was curving downward in a frown. The man was imposing. He was overflowing with pride, like he would never move no matter what happened. Lawrence could practically hear him saying that he always solved his problems by himself and he would continue to do so. Lawrence had not seen any helpers or assistants around, so he would've believed the smith.

When Lawrence was just starting out as a merchant, he often did business in places with no other competition, where the roads were so bad that no other merchants dared to venture that way. And so he was intimately knowledgeable about some things that were unfathomable to city merchants, the ones who licked the tips of their quills to manipulate numbers and called that "trade." One of those things served as the cause of an argument between him and Holo around the time they first met. And that is exactly what he came here to ask. "Building a new smithy in the forest and building a new house in the village are two entirely different things. Especially if one wants to maintain it." Behind the smith, a great big axe, a scythe, a longsword, a spear, and other things glinted ominously. They seemed like they had seen plenty of use, too much to have been personal projects he hung up in pride—they were tools to fight against the very forest itself as it threatened to swallow the smithy whole. And wherever there was battle, there were victory trophies. Hanging proudly on the wall was a magnificent wolf pelt that was roughly the same size as the smith himself. "City artisans who do not understand how terrifying the forest can be will walk right on in, encumbered by their belongings. Then once they've finished building the smithy, they'll have to work there day in and day out. What do you think? Do you think they'll be able to greet the morning in one piece?" The smith followed Lawrence's gaze and gave a nod in understanding. "I see—that's what you mean. There are some city merchants who come to the village and ask me to fix their ironware. That lot just wanders the trees munching on their bread. But I make sure not to give any blades to idiots like them. Nothing's more dangerous than those who don't know the forest spending an extended amount of time in it." The smith looked at Meyer, then turned his attention back to Lawrence. "The forest is in the heart of enemy territory. The smithy has found itself surrounded by wolves on moonless nights more than just once or twice. The reason I don't keep an assistant around is because I know the kid'll just get swallowed up by the trees." A single lapse in vigilance could mean vanishing forever. That very thing had likely happened countless times. "But Meyer," Lawrence said, turning to the ranger. "I'm certain you've already advised Lord Tonneburg on how much it would cost to keep wolves away in order to build the roads and smithies. What do you think?" Meyer had sat there, looking as though he was ready to speak up, and he nodded as though it was a given. But the reason he did not speak was because he had realized Lawrence already had the rest of the story. "I think the reason Lord Tonneburg still agreed to the plan, despite knowing about the wolves, was because he could not really picture the problem. While I imagine he comes to the forest to hunt, he likely does so in camps where he's surrounded by many beaters and those who are adept at finding their way around the forest, like Meyer." After a moment of hesitation, Meyer said, "Sir Lawrence, there are wolves in the woods, but I wouldn't say they are particularly—" "No, no, Meyer. They must be. How could they not? They are so dangerous, in fact, that it would take thousands of mercenaries to guard the workers that will be building the road from wolf attacks. The cost of such security will be absurdly high." After the bewildering, theatrical speech, Lawrence flashed Meyer and the smith a mischievous grin. At last they understood what Lawrence meant. "You want us to pretend there was a wolf attack?" Lawrence nonchalantly turned to look at Holo before giving his answer. Holo, who had a feeling she was going to be roped into some sort of performance, gave him a look that suggested he was the annoying pebble in her shoe.

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

When Lawrence was just starting out as a merchant, he often did business in places with no other competition, where the roads were so bad that no other merchants dared to venture that way. And so he was intimately knowledgeable about some things that were unfathomable to city merchants, the ones who licked the tips of their quills to manipulate numbers and called that "trade." One of those things served as the cause of an argument between him and Holo around the time they first met. And that is exactly what he came here to ask. "Building a new smithy in the forest and building a new house in the village are two entirely different things. Especially if one wants to maintain it." Behind the smith, a great big axe, a scythe, a longsword, a spear, and other things glinted ominously. They seemed like they had seen plenty of use, too much to have been personal projects he hung up in pride—they were tools to fight against the very forest itself as it threatened to swallow the smithy whole. And wherever there was battle, there were victory trophies. Hanging proudly on the wall was a magnificent wolf pelt that was roughly the same size as the smith himself. "City artisans who do not understand how terrifying the forest can be will walk right on in, encumbered by their belongings. Then once they've finished building the smithy, they'll have to work there day in and day out. What do you think? Do you think they'll be able to greet the morning in one piece?" The smith followed Lawrence's gaze and gave a nod in understanding. "I see—that's what you mean. There are some city merchants who come to the village and ask me to fix their ironware. That lot just wanders the trees munching on their bread. But I make sure not to give any blades to idiots like them. Nothing's more dangerous than those who don't know the forest spending an extended amount of time in it." The smith looked at Meyer, then turned his attention back to Lawrence. "The forest is in the heart of enemy territory. The smithy has found itself surrounded by wolves on moonless nights more than just once or twice. The reason I don't keep an assistant around is because I know the kid'll just get swallowed up by the trees." A single lapse in vigilance could mean vanishing forever. That very thing had likely happened countless times. "But Meyer," Lawrence said, turning to the ranger. "I'm certain you've already advised Lord Tonneburg on how much it would cost to keep wolves away in order to build the roads and smithies. What do you think?" Meyer had sat there, looking as though he was ready to speak up, and he nodded as though it was a given. But the reason he did not speak was because he had realized Lawrence already had the rest of the story. "I think the reason Lord Tonneburg still agreed to the plan, despite knowing about the wolves, was because he could not really picture the problem. While I imagine he comes to the forest to hunt, he likely does so in camps where he's surrounded by many beaters and those who are adept at finding their way around the forest, like Meyer." After a moment of hesitation, Meyer said, "Sir Lawrence, there are wolves in the woods, but I wouldn't say they are particularly—" "No, no, Meyer. They must be. How could they not? They are so dangerous, in fact, that it would take thousands of mercenaries to guard the workers that will be building the road from wolf attacks. The cost of such security will be absurdly high." After the bewildering, theatrical speech, Lawrence flashed Meyer and the smith a mischievous grin. At last they understood what Lawrence meant. "You want us to pretend there was a wolf attack?" Lawrence nonchalantly turned to look at Holo before giving his answer. Holo, who had a feeling she was going to be roped into some sort of performance, gave him a look that suggested he was the annoying pebble in her shoe.

While Lawrence and Holo were out traveling, it was a wolf spirit who was managing the bathhouse in their stead. Her brother and other wolves ran a monastery a short distance away from Nyohhira, nestled even deeper into the mountains. They managed the place of worship and received hot spring guests who wished to pray, all while maintaining a veil of innocence over themselves. They would gladly take up whatever favor Holo asked of them. But discussing wolves attacking humans with Holo almost verged on taboo, and if the smith truly felt like he was in harm's away, he would not hesitate to attack. And so Lawrence understood why she did not look so pleased, considering it could easily aggravate the relationship between wolf and human. Lawrence, however, was a merchant. He was confident he could sell ice in Nyohhira in the dead of winter. "Then let us think of it this way," Lawrence said, glancing briefly at Holo. "The wolves of the Tonneburg Woods might be troublesome and cunning in equal measure. But what if they put those sea dwellers in their place and taught them what it takes to survive in these woods? Doesn't that sound exhilarating?" The smith hummed, and Meyer dipped his head in agreement. Lawrence redrew the lines of friend and foe. Even the smith, who considered himself an enemy of the wolves, would side with a fellow forest dweller when it came to making a stand against outsiders. Needless to say, that should have been true for Holo as well. Wolves were not automatically hostile toward all humans. Things changed drastically if they were fighting alongside the humans of the forest, all to preserve their pride as forest people. It was not long before the smith said, "It is a good opportunity, yes, to show the sea dwellers just how dangerous the forest can be. I don't want people to think the wolves of the Tonneburg Woods are the same as any old wolves they can find anywhere." He showed respect for how formidable his enemy was. Holo observed the smith, an indescribably tickled look on her face. Lawrence wondered what would have happened if he had brought up this very topic the previous night. She may have grown fearful about coming into conflict with humans and rejected his plan. But she, too, should have understood that the smith did not simply hate wolves by watching his reaction. If circumstances were slightly different, they could have been friends. She eventually gave a weak little sigh—she finally understood that, from the perspective of a wolf, this was not such a terrible idea after all. "I am a merchant. People hate losing more than they enjoy their profits. There are terrifying and onerous wolves in this forest; once they see with their own eyes that it will cost a fortune to make their road a reality, then the sea dwellers of Karlan and Lord Tonneburg will have no choice but to reconsider." If they were truly going to build a road through the forest and set up new smithies, then they had quite the extensive survey to conduct. In which case, all Meyer had to do was take the regional lord out hunting under the pretense that the forest would soon grow much louder with the bustle of activity, so he should enjoy this lull before the storm. And once Lord Tonneburg understood the threat the wolves posed, then the cost of making things safe would most certainly push things beyond budget—and that, the lord would be forced to understand. That was precisely what Lawrence came up with the night previous when he was playing with Holo's tail. "What do you think? If both of you can help me with this, then I can immediately send word to all the hunters I know." Meyer and the smith exchanged glances, then both turned their attention to the wolf pelt on the wall. Those who spent much of their time in the forest knew very well the fear that came with seeing a wolf. "Sir Lawrence." Meyer approached Lawrence and extended his hand. Lawrence grasped it in return, and the smith himself scooped them both into a big bear hug.

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

While Lawrence and Holo were out traveling, it was a wolf spirit who was managing the bathhouse in their stead. Her brother and other wolves ran a monastery a short distance away from Nyohhira, nestled even deeper into the mountains. They managed the place of worship and received hot spring guests who wished to pray, all while maintaining a veil of innocence over themselves. They would gladly take up whatever favor Holo asked of them. But discussing wolves attacking humans with Holo almost verged on taboo, and if the smith truly felt like he was in harm's away, he would not hesitate to attack. And so Lawrence understood why she did not look so pleased, considering it could easily aggravate the relationship between wolf and human. Lawrence, however, was a merchant. He was confident he could sell ice in Nyohhira in the dead of winter. "Then let us think of it this way," Lawrence said, glancing briefly at Holo. "The wolves of the Tonneburg Woods might be troublesome and cunning in equal measure. But what if they put those sea dwellers in their place and taught them what it takes to survive in these woods? Doesn't that sound exhilarating?" The smith hummed, and Meyer dipped his head in agreement. Lawrence redrew the lines of friend and foe. Even the smith, who considered himself an enemy of the wolves, would side with a fellow forest dweller when it came to making a stand against outsiders. Needless to say, that should have been true for Holo as well. Wolves were not automatically hostile toward all humans. Things changed drastically if they were fighting alongside the humans of the forest, all to preserve their pride as forest people. It was not long before the smith said, "It is a good opportunity, yes, to show the sea dwellers just how dangerous the forest can be. I don't want people to think the wolves of the Tonneburg Woods are the same as any old wolves they can find anywhere." He showed respect for how formidable his enemy was. Holo observed the smith, an indescribably tickled look on her face. Lawrence wondered what would have happened if he had brought up this very topic the previous night. She may have grown fearful about coming into conflict with humans and rejected his plan. But she, too, should have understood that the smith did not simply hate wolves by watching his reaction. If circumstances were slightly different, they could have been friends. She eventually gave a weak little sigh—she finally understood that, from the perspective of a wolf, this was not such a terrible idea after all. "I am a merchant. People hate losing more than they enjoy their profits. There are terrifying and onerous wolves in this forest; once they see with their own eyes that it will cost a fortune to make their road a reality, then the sea dwellers of Karlan and Lord Tonneburg will have no choice but to reconsider." If they were truly going to build a road through the forest and set up new smithies, then they had quite the extensive survey to conduct. In which case, all Meyer had to do was take the regional lord out hunting under the pretense that the forest would soon grow much louder with the bustle of activity, so he should enjoy this lull before the storm. And once Lord Tonneburg understood the threat the wolves posed, then the cost of making things safe would most certainly push things beyond budget—and that, the lord would be forced to understand. That was precisely what Lawrence came up with the night previous when he was playing with Holo's tail. "What do you think? If both of you can help me with this, then I can immediately send word to all the hunters I know." Meyer and the smith exchanged glances, then both turned their attention to the wolf pelt on the wall. Those who spent much of their time in the forest knew very well the fear that came with seeing a wolf. "Sir Lawrence." Meyer approached Lawrence and extended his hand. Lawrence grasped it in return, and the smith himself scooped them both into a big bear hug.

Both Meyer and the smith ventured into the forest to prepare them a special lunch to pray for the success of their plan. Lawrence remained behind, tasked with starting the fire in the oven meant for food, careful not to ignite Holo's mood with those very flames. "I'll ask Selim myself," he said. It would likely weigh heavily on Holo if she were to ask her own kin to act as hunting dogs. And the kind wolf seemed to have some resistance to the idea of deliberately spooking people. "Do you think you could ask the wolves of the forest to make sure they don't actually hurt anyone? I'll be sure to prepare a reward for them." Holo was always willing to flash her canines whenever she got the opportunity, but she was surprisingly sensitive when it came to affairs between humans and wolves. Though she always teased Lawrence for being too softhearted, it was in fact Holo who was the most sensitive about this sort of thing. "...I believe I have become restless during our first journey in many years." She sat on a crate and hunched over, tail nervously twitching back and forth; it was likely a sign she now regretted offering her help. "But we have to do this. Otherwise the lord is never going to change his mind," Lawrence said, tossing more kindling into the fire. However, Holo remained glum. "To think you would suggest such a straightforward plan." Lawrence turned around to look at her. She greeted him with piercing, narrowed eyes. Though he had thought she had been all right with everything in the end, he figured she must still be angry that he was resorting to her wolf powers. But that was not quite it. With discontent in her voice, she said, "If you're relying on me now of all times, then I can think of plenty of other times you could have asked me to help." "Huh?" Lawrence responded quizzically only for Holo to turn away in a huff. Kindling crackled in the fire, and Lawrence snapped back to the present. She was not angry that he was asking for their help as wolves. She was reprimanding him for not taking advantage of what she was fully capable of until now. "I got your help when we set up the bathhouse, remember?" It would have been impossible to set up a new bathhouse if they had failed to find new springs. That rule prevented any newcomers from easily joining the ranks of the Nyohhira bathhouses, and the reality was that all of the major springs had already been dug up and claimed. But Holo's nose and claws had found them a spring that would have needed a great deal of luck and too much effort if it was being excavated by human hands alone. Just that was enough to make Lawrence feel like he should offer her a fresh apple beside her pillow every day for the rest of his life. "Besides, I've asked you to do all sorts of other things. I'm almost positive." He thought back on many trials they had been through together, but Holo's expression remained glum. Wearing an expression that was almost identical to one he had seen on the face of their daughter Myuri, Holo said, "It seems you've found yourself in a fix at last." Lawrence had been trying to be considerate toward Holo, but apparently, she just found it anxiety inducing. And the reason he always landed himself in these fixes was because he wanted to show off for her. But even if she knew this, Lawrence knew that Holo would remain quietly irritated and worried until he finally asked for her help. She was upset because this was the one time he had been so quick to rely on her. Lawrence shoved the kindling in the oven around with a stick before saying, "We use the card up our sleeve when it's the right time to play it, and that applies right now. Look." He lifted his gaze from the fire and scanned the deep forest that surrounded them. "This is a crossroads where not only the existence of this forest hangs in the balance, but also the future of the wheat fields. Am I right?"

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

Both Meyer and the smith ventured into the forest to prepare them a special lunch to pray for the success of their plan. Lawrence remained behind, tasked with starting the fire in the oven meant for food, careful not to ignite Holo's mood with those very flames. "I'll ask Selim myself," he said. It would likely weigh heavily on Holo if she were to ask her own kin to act as hunting dogs. And the kind wolf seemed to have some resistance to the idea of deliberately spooking people. "Do you think you could ask the wolves of the forest to make sure they don't actually hurt anyone? I'll be sure to prepare a reward for them." Holo was always willing to flash her canines whenever she got the opportunity, but she was surprisingly sensitive when it came to affairs between humans and wolves. Though she always teased Lawrence for being too softhearted, it was in fact Holo who was the most sensitive about this sort of thing. "...I believe I have become restless during our first journey in many years." She sat on a crate and hunched over, tail nervously twitching back and forth; it was likely a sign she now regretted offering her help. "But we have to do this. Otherwise the lord is never going to change his mind," Lawrence said, tossing more kindling into the fire. However, Holo remained glum. "To think you would suggest such a straightforward plan." Lawrence turned around to look at her. She greeted him with piercing, narrowed eyes. Though he had thought she had been all right with everything in the end, he figured she must still be angry that he was resorting to her wolf powers. But that was not quite it. With discontent in her voice, she said, "If you're relying on me now of all times, then I can think of plenty of other times you could have asked me to help." "Huh?" Lawrence responded quizzically only for Holo to turn away in a huff. Kindling crackled in the fire, and Lawrence snapped back to the present. She was not angry that he was asking for their help as wolves. She was reprimanding him for not taking advantage of what she was fully capable of until now. "I got your help when we set up the bathhouse, remember?" It would have been impossible to set up a new bathhouse if they had failed to find new springs. That rule prevented any newcomers from easily joining the ranks of the Nyohhira bathhouses, and the reality was that all of the major springs had already been dug up and claimed. But Holo's nose and claws had found them a spring that would have needed a great deal of luck and too much effort if it was being excavated by human hands alone. Just that was enough to make Lawrence feel like he should offer her a fresh apple beside her pillow every day for the rest of his life. "Besides, I've asked you to do all sorts of other things. I'm almost positive." He thought back on many trials they had been through together, but Holo's expression remained glum. Wearing an expression that was almost identical to one he had seen on the face of their daughter Myuri, Holo said, "It seems you've found yourself in a fix at last." Lawrence had been trying to be considerate toward Holo, but apparently, she just found it anxiety inducing. And the reason he always landed himself in these fixes was because he wanted to show off for her. But even if she knew this, Lawrence knew that Holo would remain quietly irritated and worried until he finally asked for her help. She was upset because this was the one time he had been so quick to rely on her. Lawrence shoved the kindling in the oven around with a stick before saying, "We use the card up our sleeve when it's the right time to play it, and that applies right now. Look." He lifted his gaze from the fire and scanned the deep forest that surrounded them. "This is a crossroads where not only the existence of this forest hangs in the balance, but also the future of the wheat fields. Am I right?"

And no matter which it may be, she would remain glum. "You are a sheep," she said, "and yet you somehow manage to be so elusive in times like this." All Lawrence could say in response was, "Sure. But if I were predictable and boring, you would have given up on me and gone to chew on some other bones a long time ago." Holo pursed her lips and widened her eyes. And after a long moment, she sighed. At last, she gave an exasperated smile, one that was so emblematic of the wisewolf. "You fool." Lawrence simply drew up his shoulders in a shrug. Holo stood from her crate and sat down beside him instead. That meant she was done being grumpy. "What will we be eating, I wonder." "Probably deer. I doubt being in the forest makes it any easier to hunt, though." "There are plenty of rabbits in this wood. And there seems to be plenty of water, which means there will likely be many of those rats with flat tails." "Wow, that brings back memories. We haven't had those in a long time." Holo was talking about a large rodent that lived near the water's edge. Its teeth could cut through wood, which it used to make its nests, and it was the main ingredient for a proud and popular dish among members of the clergy, who claimed that because it inhabited the water, its flesh was closer to fish than other meat. "There are plenty of delicious foods we have yet to try in this world." "You're right. That said, I should remind you my coin purse is not bottomless." Holo leaned her head on Lawrence's shoulder and slumped with a frown. "You are a stingy merchant." "Always have been." He grinned at her, and she offered a weary smile in return, then readjusted her head on his shoulder. Her fluffy tail curled, wrapping around the back of his waist as though holding him closer in a hug. The quiet forest pondside was filled only with the sound of crackling kindling. Lawrence watched Holo close her eyes, pleased, and he gave a light sigh. It seemed as though he would be able to save the Tonneburg Woods from danger—which was a problem entirely of his own creation, after he worked a little too hard in Salonia. Though it was not quite as bad as Holo's hangovers, he knew he should reflect on his actions. Just as he wondered whether or not his thoughts had reached her, the tail around him suddenly retracted and she stood up. He did not need to watch her to know that she had pulled her hood over her head and covered her tail with the long hem of her coat. Meyer and the smith had likely returned with their game. But when he turned to look, Lawrence spotted a figure coming down the road on the path leading toward the village. Meyer and the smith were there, of course. But both of them seemed grim, almost as though the hunters had become the hunted—and it did not take long for Lawrence to see that was indeed the case. Because behind them, sitting majestically on horseback, was clearly the lord and his entourage. "So you are the merchant I have heard so much about." The tone and gaze that came from atop the horse made Lawrence instinctively search for an escape route. "I heard you have some objections about how I manage my territory." Both Meyer and the smith hung their heads. On either side of the lord's horse stood two conscripted farmers, both wearing leather armor that seemed unnatural on their persons and meekly holding spears. And then there was the good-natured old priest, who seemed anxious. It was clear who made the report to the lord, and it was not realistic for him to escape now. Lawrence stood, as though protecting Holo, and graciously bowed his head. "My name is Kraft Lawrence." The graying lord gave a deep sigh, powerful enough for the hairs on his beard to shudder, and then dismounted his horse. Though the lord did not smile, he did introduce himself politely. "I am Matthias Egil Tonneburg." While Lawrence was unsure at first whether or not he needed to kneel, Lord Matthias waited only a brief moment to jerk his chin in his direction.

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

And no matter which it may be, she would remain glum. "You are a sheep," she said, "and yet you somehow manage to be so elusive in times like this." All Lawrence could say in response was, "Sure. But if I were predictable and boring, you would have given up on me and gone to chew on some other bones a long time ago." Holo pursed her lips and widened her eyes. And after a long moment, she sighed. At last, she gave an exasperated smile, one that was so emblematic of the wisewolf. "You fool." Lawrence simply drew up his shoulders in a shrug. Holo stood from her crate and sat down beside him instead. That meant she was done being grumpy. "What will we be eating, I wonder." "Probably deer. I doubt being in the forest makes it any easier to hunt, though." "There are plenty of rabbits in this wood. And there seems to be plenty of water, which means there will likely be many of those rats with flat tails." "Wow, that brings back memories. We haven't had those in a long time." Holo was talking about a large rodent that lived near the water's edge. Its teeth could cut through wood, which it used to make its nests, and it was the main ingredient for a proud and popular dish among members of the clergy, who claimed that because it inhabited the water, its flesh was closer to fish than other meat. "There are plenty of delicious foods we have yet to try in this world." "You're right. That said, I should remind you my coin purse is not bottomless." Holo leaned her head on Lawrence's shoulder and slumped with a frown. "You are a stingy merchant." "Always have been." He grinned at her, and she offered a weary smile in return, then readjusted her head on his shoulder. Her fluffy tail curled, wrapping around the back of his waist as though holding him closer in a hug. The quiet forest pondside was filled only with the sound of crackling kindling. Lawrence watched Holo close her eyes, pleased, and he gave a light sigh. It seemed as though he would be able to save the Tonneburg Woods from danger—which was a problem entirely of his own creation, after he worked a little too hard in Salonia. Though it was not quite as bad as Holo's hangovers, he knew he should reflect on his actions. Just as he wondered whether or not his thoughts had reached her, the tail around him suddenly retracted and she stood up. He did not need to watch her to know that she had pulled her hood over her head and covered her tail with the long hem of her coat. Meyer and the smith had likely returned with their game. But when he turned to look, Lawrence spotted a figure coming down the road on the path leading toward the village. Meyer and the smith were there, of course. But both of them seemed grim, almost as though the hunters had become the hunted—and it did not take long for Lawrence to see that was indeed the case. Because behind them, sitting majestically on horseback, was clearly the lord and his entourage. "So you are the merchant I have heard so much about." The tone and gaze that came from atop the horse made Lawrence instinctively search for an escape route. "I heard you have some objections about how I manage my territory." Both Meyer and the smith hung their heads. On either side of the lord's horse stood two conscripted farmers, both wearing leather armor that seemed unnatural on their persons and meekly holding spears. And then there was the good-natured old priest, who seemed anxious. It was clear who made the report to the lord, and it was not realistic for him to escape now. Lawrence stood, as though protecting Holo, and graciously bowed his head. "My name is Kraft Lawrence." The graying lord gave a deep sigh, powerful enough for the hairs on his beard to shudder, and then dismounted his horse. Though the lord did not smile, he did introduce himself politely. "I am Matthias Egil Tonneburg." While Lawrence was unsure at first whether or not he needed to kneel, Lord Matthias waited only a brief moment to jerk his chin in his direction.

He did not immediately cut down Lawrence, nor did he put him in bonds. That meant he was much more open-minded than expected when dealing with an outsider who had come onto his land with the express purpose of overturning his plans. But it did not take long for Lawrence to realize that Matthias was not so much tolerant as he was tired. Lawrence glanced at Meyer and the smith before turning his attention to the soldiers and their awkward spears. "Alone," the lord added. Matthias probably assumed that Lawrence would think he would be killed alone among the trees, but Lawrence was worried about something else entirely. His primary concern was that if things even looked like they might get violent, then Holo was liable to fly into a rage and turn everyone else into forest fertilizer. "Word of you has suddenly spread like wildfire in these parts. I wish to hear what you have to say." He had likely heard of the lumber tariff negotiations in Salonia. Lawrence nodded then glanced at Holo. She did not seem to sense anything out of the ordinary about this, so she only huffed in response. Just in case, Lawrence checked where the dagger and its clasp was at his waist, then set forth to follow the lord, staying two paces behind him. The road they took went the precise opposite direction of the one that led back to town—likely this was the one the smith used every day when he had business in the forest. It was not as though Lawrence could casually start a conversation with the distinguished person leading the way, so the two walked in total silence. As Lawrence idly watched how the dappled sunlight poured through the canopy of leaves and created deerlike spots on Lord Matthias's fur coat, the landlord finally spoke up. "Are you from Kerube?" It was not an entirely unexpected question. Lawrence knew right away what Matthias was worried about. All he had to do was think of the relationship between Kerube and Karlan that Meyer painted in his story and recall that Tonneburg was partnering with Karlan on a large-scale project. If there was the possibility of secret agents from Kerube who had come to sink the plan he had crafted with Karlan, then Lawrence had to be especially careful to avoid arousing Matthias's suspicions. Matthias did not seem to be a fool, so Lawrence promptly came up with his answer. "I have been to Kerube before, but in Salonia I simply worked at the behest of a priest." "I also heard you threw away your opportunity to take up a lordship." Lawrence cracked a little smile. "Forgive my arrogance, but I suppose there was a future in which we could have walked side by side as equals." When Matthias turned around to look at him, there was a faint smile on his tired features, and he waved Lawrence up beside him. "So what did Meyer say to convince you to come along? What sort of reward did he promise you?" The way Matthias showed him that they were equals in the forest by dispensing with formalities showed that he was an affable ruler. Lawrence, too, doubted he would be subject to some trick or ruse at this point, so he gave a relatively straightforward answer. "He told me that your precious forest was at risk as a result of my actions. And he urged me to show you that the numbers of your plan do not quite add up using my skills as a merchant." It was not a lie, but Matthias shot him a clearly dubious look, so he quickly added: "As a reward, he promised honey and dried mushrooms and the like. There was a very persuasive case that they're important luxuries for running a bathhouse." At last, Matthias finally understood how Meyer managed to rope Lawrence in. "I see. Having something to protect can be a source of weakness at times." He ran a hand over his beard and sighed. "And my numbers, you say," he laughed dryly. "I suppose he got a good look at me lamenting over my lack of money." Lawrence glanced up at Matthias just in time to see him feebly shrug.

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

He did not immediately cut down Lawrence, nor did he put him in bonds. That meant he was much more open-minded than expected when dealing with an outsider who had come onto his land with the express purpose of overturning his plans. But it did not take long for Lawrence to realize that Matthias was not so much tolerant as he was tired. Lawrence glanced at Meyer and the smith before turning his attention to the soldiers and their awkward spears. "Alone," the lord added. Matthias probably assumed that Lawrence would think he would be killed alone among the trees, but Lawrence was worried about something else entirely. His primary concern was that if things even looked like they might get violent, then Holo was liable to fly into a rage and turn everyone else into forest fertilizer. "Word of you has suddenly spread like wildfire in these parts. I wish to hear what you have to say." He had likely heard of the lumber tariff negotiations in Salonia. Lawrence nodded then glanced at Holo. She did not seem to sense anything out of the ordinary about this, so she only huffed in response. Just in case, Lawrence checked where the dagger and its clasp was at his waist, then set forth to follow the lord, staying two paces behind him. The road they took went the precise opposite direction of the one that led back to town—likely this was the one the smith used every day when he had business in the forest. It was not as though Lawrence could casually start a conversation with the distinguished person leading the way, so the two walked in total silence. As Lawrence idly watched how the dappled sunlight poured through the canopy of leaves and created deerlike spots on Lord Matthias's fur coat, the landlord finally spoke up. "Are you from Kerube?" It was not an entirely unexpected question. Lawrence knew right away what Matthias was worried about. All he had to do was think of the relationship between Kerube and Karlan that Meyer painted in his story and recall that Tonneburg was partnering with Karlan on a large-scale project. If there was the possibility of secret agents from Kerube who had come to sink the plan he had crafted with Karlan, then Lawrence had to be especially careful to avoid arousing Matthias's suspicions. Matthias did not seem to be a fool, so Lawrence promptly came up with his answer. "I have been to Kerube before, but in Salonia I simply worked at the behest of a priest." "I also heard you threw away your opportunity to take up a lordship." Lawrence cracked a little smile. "Forgive my arrogance, but I suppose there was a future in which we could have walked side by side as equals." When Matthias turned around to look at him, there was a faint smile on his tired features, and he waved Lawrence up beside him. "So what did Meyer say to convince you to come along? What sort of reward did he promise you?" The way Matthias showed him that they were equals in the forest by dispensing with formalities showed that he was an affable ruler. Lawrence, too, doubted he would be subject to some trick or ruse at this point, so he gave a relatively straightforward answer. "He told me that your precious forest was at risk as a result of my actions. And he urged me to show you that the numbers of your plan do not quite add up using my skills as a merchant." It was not a lie, but Matthias shot him a clearly dubious look, so he quickly added: "As a reward, he promised honey and dried mushrooms and the like. There was a very persuasive case that they're important luxuries for running a bathhouse." At last, Matthias finally understood how Meyer managed to rope Lawrence in. "I see. Having something to protect can be a source of weakness at times." He ran a hand over his beard and sighed. "And my numbers, you say," he laughed dryly. "I suppose he got a good look at me lamenting over my lack of money." Lawrence glanced up at Matthias just in time to see him feebly shrug.

Nothing in this world was free. "The debt alone can be slowly repaid. Even if it isn't paid off by my son's time, it should be settled by my grandson's time." Lawrence knew of plenty of lords who borrowed money and never intended to pay it back, so this alone convinced him Matthias was a man of character. "But I am no expert in the matters of coin. I believe I am a man who can be easily swayed if I place myself in the hands of a skilled merchant. Am I wrong?" Matthias at last turned to look at Lawrence, who gave an honest nod. "No. Forgive me." A wry smile crossed Matthias's face. Though it was not a particularly peaceful method, Lawrence's plan was to show that keeping the wolves away would take an unrealistic amount of money if they wanted to develop parts of the forest, and to show that it would have far-reaching consequences. Anyone would then see that only a foolish ruler would still insist on following the plan knowing all this. "Of course, I would have pushed ahead with the plan, no matter what was suggested to me," Matthias said. "But that would make me seem like a fool. And I do not want that. Do you understand?" Matthias was not the sort to force his subjects into submission. The way he led was offering his people a good reason to follow him. Lawrence's presence was causing them to quarrel even more. They reasonably wanted to avoid calling off the plan if possible. That, however, naturally brought Lawrence to one response. "Would you mind if I gave you my personal views on the matter?" Lawrence asked. Matthias gave an awkward smile. "We walk shoulder to shoulder. Of course you may." "Then forgive me if this assumption is off base, but have your financial issues forced you to accept Karlan's plan, no matter what the conditions?" Lawrence was essentially telling him that it was foolish to allow someone else to hold the reins of his territory's fate, but Matthias did not seem to be enraged by the implication—he only heaved a long, thin sigh. "My grandfather and father—and myself, I suppose—have spent too much of our energy trying to protect the forest." Matthias gazed distantly down the forest path, then turned to look at Lawrence. "The Church has long suspected us of heresy." "—Ah." On Lawrence's map of the situation, a new waterway opened up, changing the entire lay of the land. "I... I see." As his eyes scanned the perfectly good forest, one that had gained Holo's approval, Lawrence hummed. Matthias needed to be seen cutting the forest down. He had to show the world that the forest was not holy or inviolable, and that his family was not worshipping the forest itself like heretics might have. Tired, Matthias's shoulders dropped. "The situation surrounding the Church is constantly changing. Both the old guard and the Twilight Cardinal, who's criticizing the old guard, are working desperately for the sake of their people. And any who do not belong to their specific camps are treated as enemies. Do you understand?" I do, because the Twilight Cardinal is essentially my son. For a brief moment, Lawrence pictured himself saying that out loud, then quickly swallowed his words. "You mean to say that no matter which side you choose, your forest is still a problem." "Precisely. If I choose one, then the other will see me as the enemy. And no matter which one I choose, the woods themselves stink of heresy. It is deep and dense, after all." A forest like this was not unusual in Nyohhira. Venturing farther north would eventually lead to genuinely thick forests where the lifeblood of Holo's kind still beat, where no human had ever set foot. But this part of the world had been under human rule for a very, very long time. It was not unusual to stumble upon fields as far as the eye could see. A deep, dark forest was much too exceptional. "Our account books are filled to the brim with red numbers—beggars like me cannot be choosers." Lawrence nodded, rearranging the entire situation in his mind.