CHAPTER ONE

The day he set off was unusually sunny for winter. The blue sky seemed as though it might sweep him up, and the snow on the ground reflected the sunlight so brightly it hurt his eyes. Such beautiful, sunny winter days were rare in Nyohhira, a hot spring village deep in the northlands. It was a beautiful, picturesque day for departing on a journey, but it made him slightly nervous that this beginning might have consumed all his luck.

However, when he dropped his gaze to his long, rough traveling mantle, it reminded him of a traveling priest’s garb. He reconsidered his fortune, thinking that there was no doubt this weather was a blessing from God for what was to come.

A pier jutted out into a river that flowed through the village. Though it was crowded during the changing of the seasons as guests came for the springs or returned home, only a single cargo boat was moored there now. The captain, a bearded, portly, middle-aged man, was currently carrying his passenger’s luggage aboard while bustling about as though his vessel might sink at any moment. Contrary to his appearance, he moved to and fro easily and finished quickly.

“We’ll be setting sail soon!”

The captain looked over and called out to him, and he waved instead of replying. Then, he took a deep breath and hauled his bag onto his shoulders. It was quite heavy, filled with gifts from those cheering him on.

“Col, do you have everything?”

Hearing his name, he turned around. Behind him stood the bathhouse master who had cared for him for over ten years and was now intently reviewing the luggage, Kraft Lawrence.

“You have money, a map, food, warm clothes, medicine, a short sword, and tinder, right?”

Lawrence, who was once widely known as a traveling merchant, busied himself with travel preparations. In fact, the one actually leaving on the journey was not nearly as conscientious as the more experienced man and relied on him completely.

“Sir, I’m sure he’s checked at least that much. He doesn’t have any more room, anyway.”

The woman waiting beside Lawrence spoke with an exasperated chuckle. Her name was Hanna, and she ran the kitchen in Lawrence’s bathhouse, Spice and Wolf.

“Oh, right. But still.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Lawrence. I once set off long ago with nothing but a single dried herring and whittled-down copper pieces.”

When Col first met Lawrence, he was just a child of barely ten years. Back then, he visited the university cities in pursuit of knowledge as a wandering student, though that was merely in name. Truth be told, he was practically a beggar. With nowhere to go, he spent all his money and found himself lost in a foreign land with no one to depend on. Then, luck led him to Lawrence, the man who saved him.

That was already ten—no—fifteen years ago. Whenever he wondered if he had grown since then, doubt gnawed at him. Lawrence’s youthful looks had not changed very much, standing in front of him as he was, so Col was under the illusion that he was still a young boy.

But the hands pulling closed the string on his bag had grown sturdy from hard labor in the bathhouse. His current height dwarfed his diminutive stature as a child, and his once silvery hair now appeared almost gold.

Whether for good or ill, time flowed as it should.

“Well, yes, that’s true…Plus, every clergyman acknowledges you as an intelligent young student now. I’m proud of you, too, and I could really stand to learn a thing or two from the late hours you keep for your studies.”

“Please don’t, sir. If you did that, I would have to spend even more time buying garlic and onions, so I’d rather you not.”

Lawrence’s compliment tickled him, but he shrank when Hanna spoke.

He always studied after his work for the day was done. What was more, he constantly struggled to keep his eyes open when he was working on manuscripts and reciting the scriptures. To stay awake, he would munch on raw onions and garlic, which resulted in countless lectures from Hanna because she wound up with no ingredients for cooking.

“But it’s been more than ten years. Thank you for supporting the business until now. Our bathhouse only got this far because of you, Col. You were a big help,” Lawrence said and spread his arms, pulling him into a big, strong, fatherly hug. Had he not met Lawrence, he did not know how he would have ended up. He should have been the one voicing his gratitude.

“No, thank you…I’m sorry for taking off during such a busy season.”

“Oh no. We’ve kept you in the bathhouse for too long. But if you go south and make it big, at least let us know.”

Lawrence, ever the quintessential merchant, always reassured Col like this.

“And…sorry the girls couldn’t come see you off,” he continued, his expression suddenly clouding.

“Holo already said her good-byes about a week ago. She said if she saw me off, she might try and stop me.”

Holo was Lawrence’s wife, and at times she acted like an elder sister or even second mother to young Col.

“She doesn’t like to let people go. But maybe that’s wise of her.”

Lawrence smiled dryly, and a sigh left his mouth.

“And I’m sorry Myuri has caused you so much trouble.”

“Oh no…”

He was about to deny it, but he recalled the commotion of the past few days, especially the night before.

“Well…she was threatening me with her fangs and then she finally did bite me.”

“Oh, boy.”

Lawrence pressed his hand against his forehead, as though he was suffering from a headache. Myuri was Lawrence and Holo’s only daughter, and she constantly wailed about wanting to leave the hot spring village and its remote region.

And when Col mentioned that he was about to set off on a journey, it was perfectly obvious what happened next.

“Both Myuri and Holo are strong of heart, but Holo knows when to give up and has the good judgment that comes with age. In that sense, Myuri is just like the midsummer sun.”

Though she was his only daughter, more precious to him than anything in the world, Myuri’s antics were the cause of Lawrence’s aching temples. She had calmed down recently, but during her youth she had often gone out to play in the mountains and returned covered in blood.

Now, she had reached where talk of marriage was fast approaching, so that was something else to deal with.

“I haven’t seen her all day. Maybe she’s in the mountains, sulking and crying her eyes out to a bear,” said Lawrence.

Col imagined Myuri clinging to the exasperated animal in its den, and he could not help but smile.

“When I’ve settled in, I’ll send a letter. Please bring everyone for a visit when I do.”

“Of course. But if you can, pick somewhere with lots of good food. Keeping those two happy during the trips is bound to be a hassle.”

“I’ll do that,” Col responded with a smile as Lawrence extended his right hand. This was not the same person who had hired him, nor was it the one who had saved his life as a child ten years ago.

This was the master of a bathhouse, offering a handshake while seeing off a traveler.

“Take care.” As if he had noticed Col’s inadvertent tears, Lawrence smiled even bigger and gripped his hand harder.

“Be careful of unboiled water and raw food.”

“You too, Ms. Hanna…Be well.”

He tried his hardest to hide the effect of his stuffed nose on his voice as he shook her hand as well. Then he hoisted up his bag.

“Hey, are you ready?!” the boat captain called. He must have been paying careful attention, because he chose the perfect moment.

“I’m coming!” Col called back, looking at Lawrence and Hanna. Once he left, it was possible he would not see them for many years or ever again. It might also be the last time he ever laid eyes on Nyohhira and the rising steam from its hot baths.

His legs would not move no matter how hard he tried, and that was when Lawrence patted him on the shoulder.

“Go, lad. Venture out into a new world!”

It would be false of him not to respond.

“Don’t call me lad. I’m already the age you were when I first met you!”

He took the first step, the second shortly followed, and he did not even think of the third.

When he looked back, Lawrence was smiling calmly with his hands clasped behind his back, and Hanna was waving modestly. He shifted his gaze beyond them, more reluctant than ever to part with the village of Nyohhira, and he wondered if that tomboy Myuri was there. He would have liked to see her pouting face peeking out from behind a tree, but there was no sight of the young girl. She was just as stubborn as her mother. He smiled a little and walked toward the pier.

“Did you finish saying your good-byes?”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s the life of a captain for you. You can’t go down the same river twice. Not that regrets are a bad thing, though.”

Steering a boat along the quiet rivers every day must naturally bring one wisdom.

Col nodded deeply at the captain’s words and boarded the vessel from the pier.

“You’re my only passenger. Feel free to take a nap on that pile of furs,” the captain said as he undid the rope tying down the boat.

At the phrase “pile of furs,” a memory surfaced in the young man’s mind, a story he had heard long ago.

A young traveling peddler had stopped in a certain village, and as was his custom, he spent the night in his wagon curled up atop his cargo of furs. When he did, a beautiful young girl appeared, asking him to bring her to her hometown. She had flaxen hair that was especially beautiful under the moonlight, as well as animal ears atop her head and a tail with the most exquisite fur on her behind. She called herself the wisewolf—the incarnation of a wolf that lived in the village’s wheat and commanded the harvest, a being who had lived for hundreds of years and would for many more. The peddler accepted the girl’s request, and together they set out on a journey. Together they experienced joy and sorrow, shared their feelings for each other, and then lived happily ever after. The end.

Unable to imagine such a thing happening to him, he entered the pile of furs and groped around. It was all right. No one was hiding in them.

Along with his impromptu bedding, the boat was crammed with barrels and sacks full of charcoal. The barrels were likely filled with leftover tree resin from the charcoal production process. The waterproof substance could be applied to prevent molding, and its strong burnt smell wafted toward him occasionally. The furs came from communities sprinkled through the mountains beyond Nyohhira. The people who inhabited these areas worked hard at hunting during the winter, and the sales from the pelts allowed them to purchase things they needed in town. It would be too much trouble for them to carry their wares all the way to market, so the furs were usually gathered in Nyohhira before being shipped off by boat. The same went for the charcoal and resin.

“There’s a lot of furs this year.”

“Yeah, business has been booming, fortunately. Nyohhira has always been very prosperous, but things are picking up everywhere now. You know the war between the northern lands and the southern Church ended years back, right? That reckless fight was over long ago, but the official end of the hostilities has made a tremendous difference,” the captain explained earnestly, heaving up the rope before hopping on board himself.

Strangely, the boat did not rock at all.

“Once we set off, it’s the beginning of your journey.”

Facing astern, the captain took hold of the pole. The craft slid forward slowly, gliding along the river’s surface. Though it was an ordinary day in Nyohhira’s long winter, the familiar sights of the village seemed different from the boat. This may very well be the first or even last time he saw Nyohhira as a traveler. When this thought crossed his mind, he suddenly could not help sitting up on his knees. Then, he waved to Lawrence and Hanna as they watched from the riverside.

“Thank you!”

Lawrence smiled and raised his hand casually. Hanna wore the same expression she did when the results of her cooking were satisfactory.

And before he knew it, they, too, vanished from sight. Mountain rivers flowed quickly.

“Well, you’ve said your good-byes. Now it’s time to look ahead,” the captain said to the young man staring back toward the village. His tone was not commanding but gentle, as if to encourage the young man. Slightly self-conscious, he gave the captain a strained smile and faced forward.

Ah, I’m leaving on a journey—a strangely sad yet exciting feeling wrapped around him.

“You were searching around in those furs a moment ago, weren’t you? Was there a rat or something?”

“Huh? Ah…Actually, I was remembering a story.”

Thus he told the captain about the meeting of the peddler and the wolf spirit. Such fantastic stories were everywhere, but the captain seemed quite interested.

“There will be plenty of opportunity to tell those kinds of stories to while away the time on our voyage. It’s great if there’s more. But searching around in the fur after remembering that story means you’re pretty superstitious for a young one.”

The captain would never believe him if Col said it was a true story, and if he mentioned that the daughter of that wolf could be hiding in the furs, the news might shock him. After all, the peddler in the tale was Lawrence, and the wolf hiding in his cargo was Holo.

Col had joined them on their extraordinary journey and assisted them in grand, dizzying adventures. Just recalling those memories stirred his excitement, though plenty of his experiences were terrifying as well.

But the biggest surprise after being swept up in their story did not come from the heart-pounding, blood-pumping moments. It was what he saw accompanying them in their life after their happily ever after.

He was astonished at their continued life of happiness, and he could do nothing but laugh.

“So how far are you going to go? You said Svernel for now, right?” The captain named a town that lay to the west down the river, then south by land—a town that had long prospered from trade of furs and amber.

“I will first gather information about my journey there. After that, I plan to head to Lenos.”

“Oh, Lenos! I know that town. It’s on a big river with ships always coming and going! I’ve heard that means plenty of checkpoints, too.”

Col knew it well. He had met Lawrence and Holo at one of those very checkpoints along the waterway.

“I see. What are you going to do there? Craftwork? Doesn’t seem likely…Trade, then?”

“No.” He shook his head a little and looked up at the sky, swearing an oath to the presence that should be there. “I want to become a clergyman.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a priest! My, my.”

“But I’m still in training, so I don’t know if I can become one.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Don’t say that—it sounds like you don’t believe in God’s protection.”

That was true.

“But see, isn’t the Church involved in a big brouhaha with the Kingdom of Winfiel right now?”

The captain lowered the pole deep into the river, and the front of the boat turned to avoid a large rock. The mountains around Nyohhira contained no open fields with natural vistas. Snow piled high on the sheer cliffs, and even farther up, deer stared down at them in wonder.

“You know quite a lot.”

“Rivers carry not just water, but information as well.”

Apparently, the captain’s show of knowledge was deliberate. He was a cheerful person.

The river met the ocean west of here, and the Kingdom of Winfiel was a large island nation to the southwest of that. It was famous for wool and, lately, a flourishing ship manufacturing industry.

It had been a few years since the beginning of the dispute between the kingdom and the pope who led the Church overseeing the world’s faith.

“And they say the commotion started all because of taxes, right? That’s directly relevant to people who work in transport, like me. You hear about it even if you don’t want to.”

When a boat sailed downriver, it would pass through the lands of many lords. Every checkpoint the captain had to pass meant a tax, and there could be fifty or more along a big river. In some places, there were over a hundred.

In addition, though lords only charged tolls for their own territory, the Church could levy taxes in every place its teachings spread, which effectively meant the entire world. These collections were called “tithes.”

“If we could avoid paying tithes, it would be a big help for us. What’s more, those funds were originally gathered for the fight against pagans. There’s no reason to collect it anymore since that war is over. We owe it to the king of Winfiel for speaking up.”

Taxes for any reason were always unpopular. There was no reason to speak ill of a king who wished to get rid of one.

“And look at how the pope treats a ruler who makes sense! Boy, I’m really rooting for the king of Winfiel…,” the captain said before suddenly closing his mouth. He seemed to remember that his passenger wished to work as a holy man. “Sorry about that. I don’t mean to speak badly about your aspirations.”

“No,” Col said shortly with a little smile. “I agree with you.”

“Oh?”

He narrowed his eyes—not because of the captain’s puzzled stare, but because of the cool, clear wind that blew from downstream.

“I can’t believe that, in order to force the payment of taxes, the pope ordered the kingdom to suspend all religious practices without consultation.”

His white breath grew even whiter, likely from his anger. This suspension was an order from the pope, which meant all those who served the Church in that area were without work.

“For three years now, there have been no baptisms, no weddings between people who love each other, and no funerals for the cherished deceased in the kingdom. They are all important ceremonies in life that the clergy administer, and the pope has obstructed them all. I cannot see how forcing us to pay taxes to earn God’s good grace is in accordance to the Lord’s will. I am uneducated and powerless, but…”

He gripped the wooden crest of the Church that always hung around his neck and lay against his chest.

“I wish to help in correcting these corrupted teachings of God.”

In order to save the Kingdom of Winfiel from the arrogant pope, who neglected the salvation of souls for three years all because of money—and so he could rectify the divine teachings—Col would have to fight. That was why he left on his journey.

There would be hardships. There would be suffering. But he had learned much thus far, and he had even come to meet Lawrence and his wife Holo, the miraculous pair from a fairy tale. He could do it. There was no doubt.

He wanted to bestow at least a few smiles and some happiness upon this irrational, cruel world.

He stared beyond the river and vowed to himself once again.

God, give me strength and guidance.

He closed his eyes and felt a strong wind, as though an angel was stroking his cheek.

“Haaaah…”

When he heard the captain sigh behind him, he abruptly came back to earth.

Col’s face flushed—he was barely even a priest’s apprentice.

“Er, well, that is what I wish anyhow…”

“Oh, well, I was certain that it was because you were jealous of all the clergymen eating and drinking at the hot springs while you were working in Nyohhira.”

The captain spoke bluntly, but there was truth behind his assumption, too. In order to visit such a remote mountain place, one needed enough funds to travel and a job that could be abandoned for months at a time without trouble. Those with both were mostly retired heads of large companies, nobles whose governance was going smoothly, and high-ranking clergymen.

“Of course, many wish to work in the Church for that reason. It is reprehensible, though…”

“It’s not unusual for a priest to have lots of ‘nieces’ and ‘nephews.’”

Though the captain appeared to be implying something, it was not as if the underlying meaning was his own opinion. It was more like an open secret. Priests were required to stay celibate, so of course, they could not have children without wives. Therefore, they had so-called nieces and nephews instead. Not even the pope was an exception to this—one of his “nieces” had been married off to the Kingdom of Winfiel, so these corrupt practices were growing commonplace.

“I constantly wish for the world to be a more honest, straightforward place. It isn’t, so even the pope throws his weight around for the sake of money,” Col said with a sigh, and the captain responded as though searching for the right words.

“So what? You mean you’ve never laid a single finger on a dancing girl in Nyohhira?” he asked, as though such a thing was impossible. Col merely responded with pride.

“Of course I haven’t.”

“Well, that’s…”

The captain was at a loss.

Col was used to this kind of response. There were very few real priests who upheld their vows of abstinence. The ones who did as they should were monks who lived in remote monasteries, where it was a struggle to even make contact with a woman.

“Even if I wanted to break the vows of asceticism, I don’t think I could,” Col said with a wry smile, and the captain finally smiled, too, though uncomfortably.

Dancers and daughters of musicians did call out to him sometimes, though they were only teasing. And because of that, he most likely could not say that he had ever needed to expend much effort upholding his vows.

“However, I think we should maintain what has been established.”

Col straightened his posture as he spoke.

“Hmm. Yeah,” the captain murmured keenly and again changed the direction of the ship’s bow. “That being said, the world is like a river. You can never go as straight as you like.” He turned around, and the expression on the captain’s face was not smug, nor did it sneer at the ideals of a young man.

It was that of a hermit who had weathered a great many things and tried to play them off calmly.

“But those periodic twists and turns give fish a place to live.”

He must have spent plenty of time lost in thought while working as a ship captain, because his words were actually quite profound. In fact, a famous theologist had reached a similar truth after being surrounded by destruction.

“I think I understand what you mean.”

“Of course, I don’t mean to criticize anyone’s ideals. Especially not one who wants to be a priest. But if you stick to one path the whole time, there’s lots of things you’ll never know. You gain experience because you make detours.”

Col honestly agreed.

Still, he could not see where the captain’s explanation was headed.

“Um…in summary?”

For some reason, the man rubbed his nose awkwardly.

“Mm. Well, you know. I see that the purpose and spirit of your journey are remarkable, but…Well, I didn’t think you’d be so strict about it, so maybe I’ve just been a useless busybody…”

“Huh?”

It happened right after he asked.

“Well, there’s no turning back at this point. You can come out now,” the captain said to the cargo. He was not looking at the pile of furs, but rather the barrels in front of them. And then, bam! The lid of one barrel flew off.

“Whoops.” The captain skillfully caught the lid.

Sticking out from the barrel was a pair of skinny legs shod with rough traveling shoes. Ignoring the captain’s troubled smile, Col could not close his gaping mouth.

“Ooh! Ooooooh!”

There came a groan, and a hand gripped the brim as the barrel shuddered.

Just as it was about to topple over, a single girl popped out from inside.

“Pee-yoooooou!”

“Myuri?!”

The girl springing from the barrel scattered the mountain of furs with a kick and jumped into Col’s chest. She had strangely colored hair, like flecks of silver mixed into ash, and a slender frame. At a little older than ten years, she was still too juvenile to be called a young lady. She was full of enough energy to bowl him over, and the boat rocked back and forth. The only reason it did not tip over was most likely thanks to the captain’s skill.

“Ah, M-Myuri, wh-why—?”

The words, You’re here, and then, You smell burned, were caught in his throat and did not come out.

“Why nothing!”

The girl, Myuri, yelled with all her might, and with tears welling in her eyes, perhaps because of the awful smell in the barrel, she looked down at him.

“Take me with you!”

Tears more heated than the hot springs rolled down her cheeks. But with Myuri’s sudden emergence from the barrel, the undeniable implication that she and the captain had worked together, and that now the boat could not turn back—all these things had to be addressed later. The emotions of the girl in front of him seemed liable to explode at any moment, and her ashen hair was already wiggling.

He had no other choice. He hurriedly pulled her into a hug and hid her small head in his arms.

“All right! I said all right!”

Calm down!

Then, she broke loose from his arms, and her face snapped up toward his.

“Really?! Really?!”

“Yes, really, so please calm down—”

Your ears and tail are sticking out!

Ignoring all the screaming in his heart, Myuri opened her eyes wide and grinned with satisfaction, pulling him into a hug like a wolf devouring its prey.

“I love you, Brother! Thank you!”

The beast’s tail that was the same color as her hair swished back and forth quite enthusiastically, betraying her tremendous delight.

His face blanched, and he eyed the captain, who was sitting at the stern of the boat and opening a small wine cask, thankfully not paying attention to them. He must have been relieved that the secret was out or had oddly taken a hint.

In any case, he had to do something about the situation now. The story of the peddler and the wolf was a true story, and this girl was their only daughter. Normally, she could show and hide her ears and tail at will and dressed like a typical person, but when she was excited or surprised, her hidden ears and tail had the troubling quirk of revealing themselves regardless of her intentions.

“Myuri, Myuri…!”

“Heh-heh, eh-heh-heh…Hmm?”

She could smile so happily even when her tears were not yet dry.

It was a good thing to be so rich in emotion.

But he still wanted her to be a bit more thoughtful.

“They’re out, they’re coming out…!”

After hearing Col’s whispers, Myuri finally noticed. Like a cat washing its face, she hurriedly and vigorously rubbed her head. Once her tail had also vanished, it appeared they had managed to avoid revealing anything to the captain. Relieved, Col relaxed his neck, and the back of his head fell with a thud onto the bottom of the boat.

And then he sat straight up again.

“Myuri.”

“Hmm?”

The expression she showed him was clearly forced. It was a woman’s smile that she had started making whenever his voice filled with anger.

“Move.”

“…Okay.”

More reasonable than usual, her pleasant mask disappeared, as though she thought she could not hide on such a small boat or as though she had made a promise.

“Honestly…,” he said, sighing, as he was about to pull himself up, when Myuri held out her hand.

Together they put away the scattered furs and returned the barrel Myuri was hiding in to its previous spot.

It was originally a barrel for tree resin, so it reeked of something burnt. Myuri smelled like she had been dropped into the ashes of a hearth. The wolf’s blood that flowed in her veins gave her an exceptional sense of smell; if she had endured such misery, then she must have been determined.

What was more, this girl was the daughter of Lawrence and Holo. She would not run sobbing to a bear’s den if she was not taken along on a journey.

“And?” Col asked after everything had been put back into place.

“Eh-heh-heh…I ran away from home.”

Myuri shrugged as she spoke, playing meek when she actually was not, ever a tomboy.

They could not turn the boat back at this point. The river flowing out from the rugged mountains was surrounded on both sides by tall cliffs and, at best, rocky stretches. Of course, even if they were able to berth there, it was unlikely that there would be proper roads. Though travelers could follow the mountain paths from the checkpoints that the lords built, some would lead away from Nyohhira. Furthermore, winter still tightly gripped the region, leaving snow piled high and the weather ready to take a turn for the worse in an instant. A lone girl could never endure those conditions with such skinny legs. It was clear they could not send her back right away, so Col sat facing Myuri and sighing deeply.

“What are you wearing?”

As Myuri sat properly and patiently, her expression suddenly brightened.

“Isn’t it cute? Miss Helen made them for me. She said that everyone in the south dresses like this.”

The name Myuri mentioned belonged to a popular dancer and customer at the bathhouse. The girl before him was wearing a rabbit fur cape on her shoulders, a decorated shirt with puffy shoulders, and a corset of bearskin (or something of the like). If his knowledge was correct, the outfit was similar to what the court nobles wore several decades ago.

But the greatest cause of his headache was further down.

“It’s too bad I’m not as thick as Miss Helen…Eh-heh-heh, still, what do you think?”

Her slim legs were wrapped in two close-fitting tubes of linen that had been stitched together. The short trousers she wore over them were cut to a daring height—they were meant to show off everything below them. She was even sporting her rough traveling shoes, not for any practical purpose, but likely to emphasize her slender limbs.

“Well, I’m not sure where to begin, but it is not proper for a young girl to show so much of her legs.”

“I’m not showing anything. These cover everything to my toenails!” Myuri insisted, tugging on the embroidered fabric covering her thin legs. Her gestures were oddly suggestive, and Col involuntarily cleared his throat.

“I am not talking about covering your skin.”

Her appearance was a far cry from that of the plain village girls with their hair in braids and their linen skirts and aprons.

“First, these are not travel appropriate. You’re freezing, aren’t you?”

“I’m okay. Miss Helen and the others said that beauty is pain!” Myuri claimed with a big grin, but upon closer observation, Col could see that her lips were pale and her legs were shivering like a baby deer’s.

He heaved a deep sigh, reaching out to the stack of furs, and began piling them on her lap.

“I was so relieved when you finally stopped digging up hibernating frogs and throwing them into the baths and setting traps for rabbits and squirrels, but…”

Myuri used to be so energetic she drew attention even when she was together with the village boys. Then one day, she suddenly became more feminine, which relieved Col a little. Now she was making him worry in all-new ways.

Since making guests happy was a key part of working at a bathhouse, their business was a showy and animated place. The visiting patrons were all the type to make merry, so preaching to Myuri about abstinence and asceticism was not effective.

Myuri’s father, Lawrence, would scold her once, and if her behavior improved even a little, he would not say anything more. Myuri had discovered this, so reprimands were no longer a reliable deterrent. And finally, she had recently learned to mournfully say, “But I thought it would make you happy, Father…,” and so it was no use.

Her mother, Holo, knew that Lawrence’s scoldings were no match for the fear of having one’s tail stepped on, so Myuri usually tried to gauge her expression. However, Holo, who would yet live for hundreds of years, was not the kind to mind one or two pieces of fabric and was rather more likely to gather information about flamboyant clothes from Myuri.

In the end, Col was the only one who could be strict with her.

“But you were the one who told me to dress more like a girl, Brother.”

In the pile of furs, Myuri huffed.

“You’re taking it too far. I said that because you would go into the mountains dressed like a savage, with a single loincloth on. It is important to do everything in moderation. Do you understand?”

“…Yeah,” Myuri replied flatly, collapsing into the pile of furs, facing away from him. “Eh-heh-heh, but it’s fine. I’m finally out of that little village,” she said and stretched out her arms, looking up at the clear blue sky.

He did not want to constantly dampen her enthusiasm, but someone had to play that role.

“When we reach Svernel, we’ll find you some people and a horse to take you back.”

If they went to that town, they would find many friendly acquaintances among those who supplied Nyohhira’s bathhouses. They were all trustworthy folk, so he could safely entrust Myuri to them.

Still, though his stomach tensed for Myuri’s inevitable fit, it did not seem she would raise a fuss about the plan.

“Myuri?”

Col called out to her again, and still staring up at the sky, Myuri slowly closed her eyes and sighed.

“Fine.”

She was being very reasonable, and that gave him a sinking feeling instead. Or perhaps she simply wanted to leave the village for a bit? But would that warrant the determination to hold her breath in a barrel that would burn her nostrils with its awful stench? What was more, she had spent the week leading up to the day of his departure literally nipping at him.

Suspiciously, Col studied her carefully, but Myuri simply yawned.

“Faaahh…Hah. I started getting ready before dawn, so I’m tired…”

No matter how much he worried, none of it reached her. To the carefree Myuri, everything was a nuisance. Her boldness was abnormal, and that was clear from her talent—she could fall asleep no matter what the situation once she decided she wanted to sleep. He could already hear her snoring softly from the pile of furs.

Col sighed in relief, piled some more pelts on Myuri, and removed the ones on top of her head that seemed to be causing her distress. Her expression when she slept was pure and adorable, but that very cuteness always gave him something to worry about.

Once he finished covering her in furs to make sure she was sleeping warmly, the captain skillfully hooked the handle of a wooden mug with the pole and extended it to Col. He could tell it was currant liquor from the tangy scent.

“She came to me while I was catching some shut-eye in the town meeting hall before dawn.”

Col immediately knew he was talking about Myuri. Of course, he had no intentions of reproaching the captain for helping her with her plans.

“She cried, ‘Let me on your boat—I’ll die if you don’t!’ I didn’t know if it was a trick of the moonlight or something, but when I saw those golden eyes shining in the darkness, I thought, she’s serious.”

Sipping the liquor, more sour than sweet, Col’s smile twitched. He had experienced all this past week how forceful Myuri was when she asked to be taken on the journey.

“Well, you come across aimless wanderers and people who have good reasons to run away every so often in this work. You should have good enough judgment to know if you should help or not.”

“And that was enough for you?”

“Well, her traveling companion was a straitlaced young man. But he was more serious than I imagined, and I was nervous that he might get angry.”

The captain was smiling, but he spoke with a sigh. He took a sip of the piquant liquor and slumped his shoulders.

At any rate, once they reached Svernel, he would send Myuri back. He did not know what she was planning, but he had to be resolute about this. Myuri was carefree, self-willed, and the kind of girl who would perform in distracting outfits with the other dancers if the patrons encouraged her to, but she was usually calm. As she grew up, she began developing a shocking resemblance to her mother, though the true similarity lay not in her looks but in her intellectual eyes. Those eyes that bore straight through fate, that appeared between her bouts of horseplay, were the same as those of her mother, who was once revered as the wisewolf.

“But I didn’t expect you’d be siblings. I was sure you were romantically involved, but I was off on that mark.”

“We’re not siblings by blood. She’s the only daughter of the bathhouse master who took care of me. I heard her cry when she was born, and I always had to change her diapers.”

Even Myuri herself had thought he was really her older brother until recently. It truly showed how Holo and Lawrence treated him not as a mere helper but as family. He could not thank them enough.

“Well, with such a lively girl, I’m sure your long journey will be brighter.”

Col planned to send Myuri back to the village as soon as he could, but he could easily imagine that the trip would not be quiet or simple until then.

“I don’t mind her energy, but I want her to act appropriately.”

“That’s important, too. Like the flow of the river.”

The captain smiled and raised his mug lightly, so Col, too, raised his in response and prayed to God for the safety of their travels.

The boat passed through several checkpoints, and each time they stopped, they had their cargo inspected and paid tax.

Myuri awoke after noon and watched everything around her with great interest as though it was new, so she was unusually quiet.

As the sun grew red in the sky, the scenery around them also changed. Though mountains still surrounded them, there was less snow and more riverbanks filled with pebbles, and they could occasionally spot roads running along the river.

The river, whose current had also grown much gentler, made a wide detour around a hill, and on the other side was a checkpoint bigger and livelier than any they had seen before.

“Whoa! This is incredible!” Myuri exclaimed.

Piles of cargo were lined up on the riverbank. The goods must have been transported via the river, or perhaps they would be carried to the next checkpoint even farther down. On the entrance to the pier stood armored soldiers carrying spears and preparing torches for the night watch. Other people were tying the boats to the pier, announcing that there were no more ships going out today, and still others were already on their boats, drinking merrily.

“This is Lord Havlish’s checkpoint, the second biggest on this river.”

As the captain brought the boat into the pier, some of the other pilots who seemed to be familiar with him offered their greetings.

“The second biggest? This is the second biggest?”

Beyond the riverbed, they could see two inns with chairs and tables placed outside under the eaves, and festivities for the evening were already starting. There were no stifling city walls, so the scene seemed quite calm.

“The biggest one is another two nights down the river. It doesn’t have these little inns nearby. There’s a magnificent stone fortress with a bell tower and a gigantic chain that connects it to another stone tower on the opposite shore. When you pass under that chain over your head, you get all nervous because it feels like you’re being judged in hell.”

“A chain?” Myuri seemed puzzled. “But boats can’t pass through if there’s a chain there, right?”

Her confusion apparently amused the captain, and she turned to Col for help.

“That’s the point,” he said.

“Right. The sea is right there. They drop the chain when they need to for protection, so that the pirates from the open seas don’t come inland. It also might be a warning to pirates—that if they attack the towns, they’ll be tied up in those chains and sentenced to work like slaves.”

As though the chain were directly above her now, Myuri opened her eyes wide.

“Pi…rates…? Pirates?! You mean, those kinds of pirates?!”

For Myuri, who had been born and raised in Nyohhira, where even the highest mountain points only granted views of more jagged peaks, it was an unfamiliar word.

She opened her eyes even wider in excitement and gripped Col’s arm enough to hurt him.

“Wow! Pirates, Brother! Pirates?! With that? The chain?!”

The captains around them glanced curiously in their direction as Myuri danced in excitement. But when they somehow understood that this girl had just come down from the mountains, they smiled gently like grandparents fawning over their grandchildren and almost seemed about to transform into pirates themselves at any moment.

“Wow, cool! Brother, are you going out to sea, too? You are, right?”

“No,” Col said even more coolly than usual. If Myuri grew any more excited, her ears and tail might appear.

And more importantly, if she became too interested in the outside world, it would be difficult to send her back to Nyohhira.

“Pirates almost never come inland, and I’ve never heard of it happening.”

“Well, sure. It’s just a threat…or maybe just a display, saying that this place is important enough to be targeted by pirates. Anyone, whether they came down the river or from out at sea, anyone would be petrified to see those huge chains above them.”

Myuri nodded vigorously at every word and sighed in admiration.

“The outside world is complicated,” she said, seriously enough that a cry of Oh, God! could have followed. Col could not help but smile.

But he could not let his guard down. He had to maintain as much distance as possible and keep a level head.

“Let’s go, Myuri. We will be staying here tonight.”

“Oh, uh, okay!”

Staring docilely down the river, Myuri returned to her senses and hurriedly retrieved her things from the barrel she had hidden in. He did not know what she might have packed, but it seemed that she did make some preparations for traveling.

“Thank you for taking us on your boat.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Myuri realized that this would be good-bye for the vessel’s captain, and she waved with a smile, readjusting her shoulder bag that was the same as Col’s.

“Thank you, captain!”

“Bye now!”

In response to her carefree smile, the captain waved the pole he used to steer the boat. Smiling, Myuri nodded, and as they left, she turned back to him again and waved.

Col watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked along the pier, their feet raising a clop, clop sound on the wood. Once they stepped down onto the road formed by the rocks of the riverbank, he felt relieved to be back on firm ground. Traveling by boat was convenient, but it made him slightly uneasy. He glanced at Myuri to check if she had gotten seasick, and her expression was clouded.

“Are you feeling nauseous?”

Myuri looked up and smiled weakly.

“No. We’d just made friends with him…I’m a bit sad.”

She forced a smile, which made her look quite pitiful when coupled with her small, thin frame and cold dress.

But he could not let that show in his expression. He collected himself and spoke.

“You part with many people at the bathhouse.”

“Yeah, but…guests are guests.”

“From his point of view, you’re just another guest, Myuri.”

“…”

Walking beside him, she looked up, her expression slightly hurt.

“Oh…”

Traveling was a series of meetings and partings. Not every part of it was fun.

If Myuri understood this, then there was a chance she might go back to Nyohhira without a fight.

But even as Col thought all this, he could not help his heartache when he saw how deflated she was.

“Well, he’ll keep sailing up and down this river. If he returns to the village port, then you can see him anytime.”

Myuri lifted her gaze to him. When their eyes met, she smiled in relief.

“Thanks, Brother.”

Her smile almost moved him.

Together, they headed to the inn on the riverbank and secured a room. He had originally planned on staying in the cheapest shared room available, but since Myuri was with him, he had no choice. To make up for it, he would simply need to be more frugal down the road.

He set his things down in relief, while Myuri opened the wooden window and looked down outside. She turned back to him in excitement.

“Brother! They’re cooking meat outside!”

Having been raised in Nyohhira, Myuri loved dinner parties enough as it was. She loved good food even more, and once she came of age, she would surely be unable to resist liquor.

She pulled him by the sleeve to look out the window, and sure enough, some people were in the middle of roasting a luxurious whole pig in a hearth surrounded by stone.

“See? See? They’re roasting a pig. That’s so cool. I wonder if there’s a festival or something.”

Nyohhira could hold its own as a bustling locale, but the variety of goods in the hot spring village was limited due to its location deep in the mountains. The inhabitants could hunt deer and rabbits in their area, but since they could not obtain pigs, the roast seemed like a luxury import to them. It was an even rarer sight to see a pig being cooked whole.

Ignoring Myuri as she was consumed with excitement, Col thought about how he could convince her to make do with tonight’s dinner of dried meats and poached beans when he felt someone’s gaze on him. Among the travelers and craftsmen drinking together below, a single person sat alone, looking up and waving at him.

“Hey, Brother, just a bit, please?” Myuri pestered him, and he took several copper coins from his wallet and placed them firmly in her hand.

“Buy food for both of us. It won’t be much, but you should be able to get some of the roasted pig.”

“Oh…Okay.”

Myuri seemed perplexed by the copper dip coins in her hand, which were commonly used in this region.

“Brother, what about you? You’re not coming?”

“I have my daily prayer and recitation of the scripture. Or would you rather join me here?”

An expression of displeasure abruptly appeared, and she made her way to the door, leaving a wide margin between them so as not to get dragged in.

“I’ll be right back!”

“No alcohol.”

“Aww…”

“I said no.”

Myuri did not respond and left the room, still pouting.

Col sighed in exasperation. He checked the view outside after a while, and Myuri, jogging up to the roast pig, suddenly turned back in his direction and waved. She immediately stood out in a crowd, though not because she wore the unusual clothes that the dancers had told her about. She herself was striking. Almost as though she had been cut out around the edges and surrounded by a faint glow.

Perhaps he was also seeing her in a favorable light because he had always fawned over her like a real little sister.

As he smiled dryly, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

Col’s happy expression faded, and he closed the window.

Then, he opened the door, and standing outside was the traveler who had looked up at him from the square just a little while ago.

While the traveler was rather small in stature, that was not to say he was very short. He was not particularly sturdy, but he was far from skinny. Perhaps his enigmatic impression was because he worked as something similar to a spy.

He looked like a young man when wearing a hood, but in actuality, he was a very quiet adult with the beginnings of wrinkles appearing on his face.

“I’m surprised. I did not expect to see you here.”

Col offered him a seat, but the man shook his head.

“I will not stay long. Sorry to make you clear the area.”

“Ah…That girl forced me to take her along from Nyohhira. She hid herself in the cargo. It was a barrel filled with resin, and I thought, surely she wouldn’t be in such a putrid place.”

“Oh?” The man was surprised, and his shoulders shook with laughter. “Those barrels are indeed smelly. I’ve hid in them many a time.”

It did seem that such rough work was not uncommon. This man was a messenger for a large and powerful organization known as the Debau Company, a group that held sway over the entirety of the northlands. The Debau Company sided with the Winfiel Kingdom, which was currently in conflict with the pope. The group was most likely aiming to extract some special trading privileges by pulling the kingdom out of hot water.

Therefore, it acted as a line of communication between the kingdom and those who wished to support it, like Col.

“I don’t find it humorous…but why are you here? I thought we were to meet in Svernel?”

“About that—no more trips to Lenos. I was waiting here to tell you. Instead, I need you to head to Atiph.”

“Atiph?”

That was the name of the settlement by the checkpoint with the large chain to ward off pirates. The captain had told them about it on the boat earlier that day.

“That’s quite far from Lenos…Did something happen?”

The river flowed south from Nyohhira for a bit before changing its course due west. After meandering through the narrow mountain ranges, it entered flatlands called the Dolan Plains and eventually emptied into the sea. Lenos was a town that was farther southwest, beyond several mountains.

“The negotiations with the archbishop at the cathedra there collapsed almost immediately.”

“What…?”

“Heir Hyland wanted to attend to it in person, but since it is an important area that connects the north and the south, Duke Laforque will oversee the negotiations instead.”

When Col was a child, the town of Lenos did not even have a church yet, but these days the scale of worship there had reached the point where it could be called the great center of faith in the northlands. It had been close to ten years since the establishment of the cathedrae, which had the authority to command priests in other churches, and almost ten years since the archbishop first held the priest’s staff.

Col’s spirits fell, though it was not because negotiations at the important town of Lenos had not gone well.

“Much to Heir Hyland’s chagrin, I’m sure.”

He was worried about that particular person.

“Why fret? The good thing about him is that he doesn’t give up.”

Hyland had a high status and the blood of Winfiel royalty, but the messenger spoke of him as though he was a friend. Typically, this would be disrespectful, but Col understood how the man felt. Hyland had an oddly unassuming, straightforward nature, which made it easy to think of him as a close acquaintance.

Of course, Col had decided to help the Kingdom of Winfiel because it was a reasonable thing to do, but it was also because Hyland had come to soak in the waters of Nyohhira and asked for his help directly.

“Then, will the next negotiations be in Atiph? But using Atiph after Lenos…”

“You mean since the negotiations in Lenos have failed, they’re already obsolete?”

Prompted by the man, Col nodded compliantly.

“Even with a cathedra at the church in Atiph, a newcomer is still a newcomer. It’s a lesser one for sure. But these past few years, the entire town has really benefited from trade, and it appears they will continue to grow. If we can convince them, we could secure a third of the northern sea.”

If the Debau Company, the ruler of every corner of the northlands, said such a thing, then it was certain.

Additionally, Col was unaware of the news that Atiph had grown so quickly. One always ended up out of the loop in the remote mountains of Nyohhira.

“Moreover, Atiph is an autonomous city not subject to any particular royal authority, so it isn’t a bad place to begin. If they respond favorably to our persuasion, then other free city-states may follow suit. More importantly, it takes less than two days to reach the Winfiel Kingdom from Atiph on the sea routes nowadays. It seems far on a map, but it is actually a crucial town.”

Col did have some confidence in his knowledge of geography, but the world was shifting a great deal. Perhaps it would be best to think of what he remembered as a thing of the past.

“In any case, we need Heir Hyland and the Kingdom of Winfiel to work as hard as they can. There’s no profit for us in following blindly.”

He smiled wryly at the man’s merchantlike choice of words, but it was the truth.

“Sir Col, you have a goal in mind as well, no? Aiming for the seat of the royal family’s priest?”

“Well…”

He was about to argue, but he faltered. Instead, he smiled shyly, admitting his own desires.

“I cannot say that I am uninterested in being successful. However, I cannot accept the pope’s frankly tyrannical policies and this status quo in which God’s teachings are being used so arbitrarily. Most of all, I was touched to see Heir Hyland so firm in his faith. I would very much like for someone like him to rule. If I could be of assistance to proper worship, then I would be most pleased. And…”

“And?”

“If the tithes grow stronger, then the price of goods coming into Nyohhira will go up, right? So if we instead eliminate them, then we can protect Nyohhira’s profits.”

The other man seemed rather surprised and smacked his forehead, smiling.

“You’re different from the monks holed up studying in monasteries, Sir Col. You are truly reassuring. You firmly grasp the scales in your right hand and the scriptures in your left.”

“Or perhaps I don’t have a good hold of either.”

“That’s something you show little by little as you go.”

And thus everyone would gain what they wished for in the end. Though Col himself was one of the potential beneficiaries, it was not as if he had no interest in simply wanting to work with Hyland. It would be an exaggeration, however, to say he would do it without any compensation.

He could still clearly remember his talk with Hyland, soaking in the silent grotto bath that was only for the use of distinguished guests, wishing to go through the catechisms. Hyland’s faith and passion were real, and his heart truly ached for his country as it faced hardships brought on by the pope’s whims. From time immemorial, the clergymen who stood beside those in power were also often their friends. Col could stand proud if everything he had learned up until that point in life could be used to support such a wonderful person.

“And I am quite looking forward to seeing Heir Hyland’s ambitious plans,” the man said, grinning. “Making Our Book of God is such exciting business, even for someone my age. I’m expecting great things from you, too, Sir Col.”

“You are too kind.”

It was truly how he felt, not any sort of modesty, but the man cackled.

“For now, we will take care of everyone’s stay at the Debau Company trading house. I will ensure all the necessary tools are in order as well.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I must be off to my next destination. Once I hop onto my boat, I’ll be at the next town. Heir Hyland should be arriving at Atiph by sea already. May God watch over you.”

The man smiled slightly and left the room.

Standing in front of the closed door, Col heaved a deep sigh. Apparently he had been unconsciously nervous.

He knew he was simply one of many collaborators and that this was a real problem regarding faith. Despite that, he felt something burning deep within his chest—the pope, who had forgotten his original duty, and the Kingdom of Winfiel, which stood up to challenge him.

He did not think he had ever felt the excitement of facing a major task and the yearning for adventure in him.

First, he decided that even if it was too presumptuous of him to want to be Hyland’s support in Atiph, he would help somehow. Then—

“Oh! Brother!”

His somber thoughts shattered when he heard Myuri’s silly voice from the other side of the door.

“Open up!”

There came the thud, thud of kicks against the door.

He sighed and opened it.

“How many times have I told you to stop kicking the door?”

“Ah! Ah! Move, move!”

Myuri listened to none of Col’s scolding and stumbled into the room, bumping into him in the process. Her arms were stuffed with things that somehow did not fall onto the floor, and she eventually managed to place them on the bed.

“My hands, they’re so hot! I think I burned them…”

She blew hard onto them, but Col stood still, dumbfounded.

“Myuri? Why do you have so many things?”

He had given her bronze dip pieces, the area’s smallest currency in circulation. Two or three were enough to buy one meal, so they were perfect for buying a few slices of pork and old, dried bread.

With that, Myuri had acquired a variety of things wrapped in big leaves and three fine pieces of bread as thick as her thighs. No matter how he figured it, that was much more than what the money could buy. To top it off, she even had a small wine cask.

“I thought I told you no alcohol.”

Myuri pouted, as though it was too much trouble to keep ignoring him.

“I didn’t buy it.”

“You didn’t?”

“They gave it to me.”

“That’s not—Wait, all of this?”

Then, Myuri suddenly smiled proudly.

“I was waiting for the pig to roast, and they asked me to come dancing. When I danced along to the music everyone was so happy!”

She placed her hands on her cheeks, and when she spun around merrily, her ears and tail appeared. She was a girl who enjoyed any sort of festivities and often joined the dancers at the bathhouse in Nyohhira.

Col watched her and sighed, his hand meeting his forehead. Then, while she pranced about, humming and flicking her bushy tail, he stopped her by pressing on her head.

“Myuri, from now on, you must be more careful about these things.”

“Huh?”

Underneath his hand, a puzzled Myuri looked up at him.

Then, she opened her mouth as though she realized something.

“Ah…Um, I did think that, maybe, um, getting on the table with my shoes on was a bad thing, but…”

Her ears drooped, and her tail hung lifelessly.

Col felt light-headed—she had done such a thing?

“But…but…I checked to see if there were other dancers! I know I shouldn’t get in the way of their work!”

She confidently puffed up her chest as if to declare that she knew that much.

When she would join the circle of performers in Nyohhira, she shone the brightest with her cheerfulness and innocence.

But then, instead of tipping the true dancers and perhaps receiving a small smile in return, the guests started giving meat and bread to the innocent Myuri to watch her wolf it down. It became a major infringement on the dancers’ territory, and she had caused man disputes. She was likely alluding to that. Col let go of her head, made a fist, and lightly rapped her with it.

“That is not what I’m talking about.”

“…?”

Myuri dramatically pressed a hand to her head in objection.

Suddenly exhausted, Col opened the window and gazed out, knowing that there used to be a time when she actually listened to him.

“This is not Nyohhira. It’s dangerous for a girl to dance in front of drunkards.”

The roasting pig from earlier was now nothing but bone. The guests had drunk quite a bit and were amusing themselves with arm wrestling at the moment.

The usual gathering at this checkpoint was comprised of merchants buying and selling furs or timber, those who transported cargo, and the captains who steered the ships. All things considered, the crowd was a bit rough, but it was not on the level of mercenaries.

“Dangerous?” Myuri repeated the word as a question, dubious.

“That means not every man will drop to one knee and hold out flowers after they’ve had their heart stolen by a wonderful dance.”

And Myuri appeared defenseless enough as it was.

“Oh, that’s what you mean. It’s okay!” Myuri said as she reached out for the food she had thrown onto the bed. She undid the carefully wound leaf wrapping around what appeared to be truly delicious-looking pork, still dripping fat.

“Miss Helen taught me lots. And Mother also said that the value of a woman depends on how many men she’s declined,” she said while pinching the pork and putting it into her mouth before licking the fat off her fingers.

Myuri had spent time with the children of nobles on occasion, and once they tired of hunting in the mountains, there was nothing else to do. Whether they were joking or not, many called out to her.

It was normal for her to receive men’s attention. If he scolded her, warning that she would never get married if she continued like this, she would not listen.

“Honestly…”

Perhaps it was that girls her age were not afraid of anything.

He suddenly felt as though he had aged ten, twenty years and said, “Not everyone is reasonable.”

As she ate her second piece of meat, Myuri slumped, indicating that perhaps his lecturing was finally sinking in.

“It would already be too late if something had happened to you. Do you understand, Myuri? You are still young and ignorant of the world. When I tell you to be more careful, it’s not because I’m teasing you, but because it’s how I can protect you.”

As he explained fluently to the girl in front of him, Myuri placed the package of meat on the bed, ripped open the bread, and placed the meat between the pieces.

She was bent over as she did so, and her fluffy ashen tail swished back and forth behind her small bottom. It was as though she was reassuring him—It’s all right, it’s all right.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeeep. Here, this one is for you.”

With a smile, she offered him an enormous piece of bread that was, of course, as big as her thigh. Plenty of meat was sandwiched inside of it, as well as cheese to stuff it full.

“…I can’t eat all this.”

“What? But, Brother, that’s why you’re too skinny.”

“S-skinny…”

Though he was not quite on the level of hunters and mercenaries, Col thought he had enough muscle on him, so that remark stung considerably.

And the piece of bread that Myuri took for herself was much bigger than the one she had handed him, and he felt full just from looking at it.

“Digging in!”

Myuri opened her mouth wide and bit aggressively into the bread. Her ears and tail wiggled in bliss—where did she find room for everything in that slender body of hers?

“Good grief…”

Col did not know how many times he had sighed that day. He watched Myuri engrossed in her meal before taking a bite of bread himself. It would be a lie to say that he was not, in a way, jealous of how she saw the world as brimming with exciting things, beautiful vistas, smiles and happiness.

Though that did not mean he wanted her to lose her innocence and regard others with a doubtful eye. Nothing would be better than if he could raise her to be as straightforward as this, without anything ever hurting her.

To that end, he wanted her to know as little of the outside world as possible and live quietly in Nyohhira.

“And we need to talk about you going back to Nyohhira.”

When he broached the subject, Myuri suddenly stopped munching on the bread and tilted her head to the side in annoyance.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he said.

Surely, Myuri was not foolish enough to think that he would accept their traveling together just like that.

Just as he expected, when he pointed this out to her, her expression changed and she tore into the bread. It seemed her laudable attitude had existed only on the boat.

“No, I’m not going back.”

“Yes, you are.”

When he cut her down with a single stroke, her tail bristled.

“I planned on taking you to Svernel, where we would find someone trustworthy to bring you back, but my plans have changed. Tomorrow morning, I will send a fast horse with a letter to Nyohhira and have someone come to get you.”

During this time of year, there were many guests in every bathhouse, and it was very busy. This thought alone made him want to take her home himself, but trudging back along the snowy mountain roads with Myuri in tow would take two or three days.

He needed to move forward quickly now that Hyland, who had hired him directly, might already be in Atiph.

“And Lawrence and Holo must be worrying about you back in Nyohhira right about now.”

It would be odd if Lawrence were not growing frantic now. Or perhaps, Myuri’s mother, Holo, would come under the cover of darkness in her true form, a giant beast known as the wisewolf who could swallow a person whole.

Actually, that would make Col more than happy since Myuri only ever obeyed her mother.

But just as the thought occurred to him—

“They’re not,” Myuri said, a hint of desperation in her voice. Perhaps it was typical for someone her age to see her parents’ meddling as annoying. She might rebel if he admonished her directly, so he wondered how to lecture her. As he searched his memory for a passage from the scriptures, Myuri held a piece of bread in her mouth, spread her hands, and then pulled something out from under her shirt.

“Ehho-hey, ah-hoo, hee-how-ha-how, ha-haw-ha-haw.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

As Col asked, he noticed what she had drawn from her clothing.

“Hmm…Ah, that’s—!”

Myuri was not desperate—she was exasperated.

She was holding a small pouch tied together by a string. It was nothing special at a glance, but it was enough to make him fall silent.

“Ehho…Nom, gulp. There’s no way I could leave the house without Mother knowing.”

That pouch belonged to Myuri’s mother, Holo. It was small enough to fit comfortably in a fist, and Holo always had it around her neck. That was because it was stuffed with different kinds of wheat inside, and Holo lived in the grains as a being who had once controlled its harvest.

“When I told Mother about you, she put some wheat in the pouch and gave it to me. She said to take care of you and that if I have this, I can protect you when the time is right.”

When he heard that, he felt as though heaven and earth had been flipped.

Not him looking after Myuri but Myuri looking after him?

She stared right at him as he stood in a daze.

“What were you talking about just now?”

Her gaze chilled him to his core.

“Just now?”

It was not necessarily revenge, but when he responded dumbly, the fur on Myuri’s tail stood on end.

“You met with a stranger here!”

“You eavesdropped…”

“You were inside talking when I came back so I was just waiting outside!” So she said, but she had definitely strained her wolf ears to listen in. “But that doesn’t matter! You are going to go to some faraway land to be a priest! I knew it! You liar!”

She bared her canines, which stood out a bit more than the average human’s, perhaps because of her wolf’s blood, and growled loudly. The fur on her tail, too, bristled like a ragged brush.

He had told Lawrence and Holo, the bathhouse owners, the true reason for his journey. However, he had figured Myuri would not understand if he explained it to her since it could get complicated, so he simply told her that he would be going to help an acquaintance someplace far away.

“That blondie is tricking you!”

Hyland had beautiful, eye-catching blond hair, as was appropriate for someone with royal blood.

Myuri, for some reason, regarded him with blind hostility. She was attached to the mysterious mixture of ash and silver that was her own hair, so perhaps she regarded him as an enemy.

“I am not being tricked. What Heir Hyland is doing is very important.”

“Yes, you are. You’re too softhearted, and people can lure you into anything!”

He would take the “softhearted” part as a compliment. “Then, how do you think I am being tricked?” Col retorted, biting into the meal Myuri had made for him. If he told that fireball everything without giving her a chance, he would be the one tiring out. As with his lectures, he had no choice but to let her talk and talk and confuse herself before she would give in.

That was also how he had dealt with her vicious attacks this past week.

But Myuri, too, was likely getting a feel for this strategy. As she glared at him, munching on her bread, she appeared to be building up her strength.

“Aughm, nom…gulp. You are. Because it’s weird! That blondie is a powerful person in the kingdom or whatever, right? So why would someone like that go to you for help?”

Col was aware that he was naturally meek, and he was proud of his modesty. Myuri had pointed that out with this in mind, and he knew he should simply accept it, but of course, certain things he could not budge on.

“The scholars and high-ranking clergy who come to Nyohhira have always regarded me highly. You may not think so, but—” It was embarrassing for him to sing his own praises, but he had no choice. “—but they’re right.”

“Hmph.”

Myuri regarded him with narrowed eyes and then snorted. They were not the eyes of the little sister who wagged her tail innocently and called out to him, “Brother, Brother!”

They were the same eyes as a dancer who was rather harsh with men watching an intoxicated guest’s loud boasting.

“Um, Brother? Even I know the visiting priests are important people. Important people have dignity, and that’s what makes them great. You’re not like them.”

Those were the words of a child who had never left her village deep in the mountains.

“Sigh…Listen, Myuri. There is an account of this in the scripture. God bestowed his words onto a prophet, who returned to the village where he was born. His relatives said to him: ‘You do not hesitate to say that God has given his word to you, but we ask that you must stop such exaggerations. We know that you have always been a normal child.’ Then, the prophet said to his disciples: ‘Take something in your hand and bring it close to your eyes. The closer you are, the less you can see of its true shape.’”

The scripture was full of meaning from this perspective. As Col mulled over the words, Myuri spoke.

“But there are also things that you can only see because you’re close!”

“…For example?” Col replied with a question, sighing.

Myuri’s eyes glinted coolly.

“When Miss Helen and the other dancing girls tease you, your face immediately goes red and you get all flustered.”

“Wha—?”

A dagger of ice came flying at him from a completely unexpected direction.

“Whenever I see it I think how there’s really nothing sadder than that. You know a lot about the scripture, Brother, but does the scripture teach you how to talk to girls?”

The dagger plunged deep into his chest and twisted mercilessly.

While his breath was failing him, Myuri bit into what was left of her bread, chewing in disappointment.

“The older guests know how to treat girls, for that matter. They seem to know when to act shy, and that actually makes them more attractive. I think that’s what makes someone an important person.”

Even those who were rather learned and well versed when it came to theology were just old men when they soaked in the waters of Nyohhira and ogled the half-naked dancers. He could not bring himself to bring it up with them directly, but he had no way of knowing how many “nieces” and “nephews” these men had despite their supposed celibacy.

So Col secretly thought that since he adhered to his abstinence, there was no mistaking that he would achieve much greater things than them. However, Myuri’s assessment was the opposite.

“Mother says this a lot to Father.” Myuri cleared her throat and imitated her mother, Holo. “You act like you understand everything about the world, but you shall never see more than half if you do not understand women! There is nothing in this world but women and men!”

His chest was in so much pain he felt faint, and that was when Myuri landed the finishing blow.

“And, Brother, have you even held hands with another girl besides me?”

Col was about to protest that he had at least done that, but the first person who came to mind was Myuri’s mother, Holo. And Holo was a mother figure, not just for Myuri but for Col as well. If he argued that he had held hands with Holo, Myuri would roll on the floor laughing and perhaps regard him with some worry.

However, he could not leave the question unanswered. He raised his own spirits by reassuring himself that what he wanted to accomplish was much too complicated to be comprehended by a little girl.

“Wh-whatever the case, I believe that Heir Hyland—and by extension, the Kingdom of Winfiel—are in the right, so I decided to go on a journey where I could be of some help to them. And I would rather be unacquainted with the opposite sex. The vows of abstinence will only strengthen my faith!”

He became defiant—no one could understand this pride. In reality, vows of abstinence were the butt of ridicule, and priests who kept to them were few and far between.

But Col was all right with that. He could not die for his faith, so how could he keep moving forward?

“That is why—”

Just as he was about to speak to Myuri, she quickly stuffed the rest of the bread in her mouth, licked her fingers, and interrupted him.

“That’s why I have to stay by your side.”

“Ah…What?”

“Mother was worried, too. She said you’re super-reliable, but since girls are a weakness of yours, you might get roped into something troublesome. She said it would be awful if you came back to Nyohhira all proud of yourself with some weird girl, after you finished your work.”

“…”

“Mother’s worried that Father might be conned by someone, so she won’t leave Nyohhira. That means I’ll be with you because I’m the one who needs to keep an eye on you,” Myuri said with a grin.

He wondered why he found that smile so frightening, and the answer was because she was the spitting image of her mother, Holo. The wisewolf would often laugh like this as she amused herself treating Lawrence, a top-class merchant who had participated in the tumult that irrevocably changed the northlands ten years ago, as if he were a child.

Myuri swished her tail back and forth, like a wolf watching its prey try to escape.

Col gulped, and Myuri slid closer.

“And I’m worried about you, too, Brother. I’m serious.”

There was more than a head’s difference in height between them, so when Myuri stood next to Col, she only reached his chest.

She gazed up at him with wide eyes.

The magic of it scattered the words of the sentence he was about to say, but he somehow kept himself grounded in reality. Bread crumbs and bits of cheese stuck goofily to her lips.

“…First, wipe your mouth.”

“Huh? Oh.”

She hurriedly wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Then, when she glanced at him, her smile seemed like an attempt to hide that her mischief had been found out.

“You’re growing up to be an odd person…”

He hung his head, and Myuri stood on her tiptoes to pat him.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Mother told me to look after you. Leave it to me.”

“…”

She was half his age. He heard her cries when she was born; he had often changed her diapers. Countless times, she had crawled under the covers with him so that she did not get frostbite during the winter months, only to wet the bed and start sobbing while he soothed her and cleaned up.

That girl had, at some point, become this.

Of course, her mother was a master of the weapon known as womanhood, so it was natural that her daughter be the same.

He wished he could speak with Lawrence about it.

“So I can travel with you, right?”

He was unsure why she was suddenly speaking so lightheartedly, but he was well aware that he was no match for her when Holo was on her side.

And Myuri knew exactly what she needed to.

“Of course, I won’t bother you. I don’t know anything about God.”

That was certainly a problem, but perhaps Myuri, with the blood of ancient spirits flowing through her veins, had the right to disregard a God whose existence was not certain.

“But I’ll be sure to point out anything you miss straight away, my careless Brother.”

He wanted to check to see where that confidence came from, but it was likely because she had the blood of a wolf, the ruler of the forest.

“Oh, and, Brother?”

“…What is it?” he responded with fatigue, as Myuri hesitantly pointed at something.

“Do you still want that?”

She was pointing at his half-eaten food, and he sighed.

“Go ahead.”

He handed it to her, and she bit into it happily, even though she had just finished a large piece. As Col watched her, he could not help the defeated smile spreading on his face.

And once it did, he lost.

“Haa-haw?” (“What’s wrong?”) Myuri asked, her mouth stuffed with bread, and Col patted her head before pointing to a chair.

“Sit down and eat.”

Myuri quietly obeyed and plopped down onto the chair.

Her apparent obedience at times like these was another of her crafty tricks. He understood it all.

“Oh God, please grant me strength…”

As he chanted the name of his eternal companion, he sighed.