WKOC Extra 6

1

Three months after the end of the battle known as the [Glorious War]—when all post-war arrangements were set and the Church of Light was back to regular operations—the Knight Commander of the Holy Knights, Alvin, suddenly fell ill.

It started with someone noticing that Alvin’s voice was hoarse during morning prayers, then a cook observed him eating only half a piece of bread at lunch. By afternoon, knights saw the tuft of hair on Alvin’s head, known as the “Brilliance tuft,” looking particularly droopy. Finally, when he didn’t show up for dinner, everyone knew something was off… And then, during the evening prayers, as he stood to leave, he swayed and collapsed!

The entire Great Cathedral was in chaos as the Pope hurriedly examined the fainted Knight Commander with a worried look. After a full inspection, he concluded—

—Alvin had a fever.

Both the Pope and Alvin were at a complete loss.

“If you’re sick, why didn’t you rest properly?” questioned Hillier, frowning.

“So this is what it means to be ‘sick’?” Alvin replied, bewildered. “I didn’t know. I’ve… never ‘been sick’ before.”

Hillier: “…”

The Pope silently searched his memories of Alvin from childhood till now. There was no recollection of him ever being sick—not even once. Wait… was it true that fools don’t get sick?

“I thought it was an injury of some sort,” Alvin mumbled softly, and the Brilliance tuft drooped weakly again. “I tried healing myself, but it didn’t help.”

Hillier: “…”

Healing spells aren’t a cure-all. At the very least, they can’t treat fevers. Besides, Alvin’s condition wasn’t an ordinary fever. During his inspection, Hillier noticed something odd about Alvin’s body—like a grand mountain with the base hollowed out and then filled with some foreign power. As someone who had healed countless injured knights, Hillier recognized it as severe physical exhaustion.

In the previous months, Alvin had been cursed by the Dark God, never resting for a day, and continuously engaged in battles. In the end, he defeated the demon lord while in a god-descended state. For an ordinary person, that would have led to collapse ages ago. Alvin, however, was extraordinarily strong and had divine power left behind by the Light God within him, so he hadn’t shown signs of weakness right away. But now that all post-war matters were handled, his mind relaxed, and he finally fell ill.

“You need to rest,” Hillier said.

Alvin didn’t object.

He could feel his body’s state was far from normal. To describe it, he felt like someone had poured warm oatmeal into his head, displacing what should have been there. Dazed, he followed Hillier’s instructions and lay on the bed, letting the Pope wrap him up in blankets until he resembled a “rolled-up Alvin.”

“Is it necessary to wrap me like this?” the Knight Commander couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s a rule for recuperating,” the Pope replied solemnly.

With zero experience in recuperating, Alvin felt bewildered but obediently followed the “rules” and even adjusted the blanket to wrap himself up a bit more properly.

Hillier: “Pfft.”

Alvin: “…?”

2

On the twelfth day of his enforced bed rest, Alvin had finally had enough.

Everyone who heard “the Knight Commander has a fever” was overly worried. Alvin’s history of reckless actions was too notorious; even when he reassured everyone he’d recover after a bit of rest, no one believed him—his credibility on this was already negative. So, everyone guarded him strictly, forced medicine on him regularly, banned him from training or handling documents, and nearly kept a 24-hour watch to ensure he stayed in bed.

But this time, he genuinely only needed a bit of rest to recover.

When he was denied even a stroll outside his room by the knights stationed at his door, the poor Knight Commander was finally driven to desperation.

And so, using his exceptional skills… he snuck out.

By the time the Pope heard the alarmed cries of the priests barging into his study, Alvin had long escaped his room. Hillier quickly sent everyone out and quietly checked under Alvin’s pillow. Sure enough, he found a hastily torn note in Alvin’s familiar handwriting that read only one line:

[Spare me, please.]

Hillier could almost picture Alvin’s helpless expression as he wrote those words and couldn’t help but laugh softly.

The others, however, didn’t share the Pope’s calmness. In fact, they reacted as though Alvin wasn’t merely taking a stroll but had slipped away to some unknown corner to die in solitude. Hillier had to spend a fair amount of effort persuading them against a city-wide search and instead mobilized all the Holy Knights to search discreetly.

“Can I help search for Alvin, Teacher?” Daniel asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Hillier replied.

Seeing that Hillier had already changed into regular attire, Daniel asked curiously, “Are you going to look for Alvin too?”

“Hmm,” Hillier nodded, unable to hide the smile on his lips. “I’m quite curious where he might have hidden himself…”

3

The answer: the Rose & Flame Tavern.

Samuel climbed up from the cellar, holding a bottle of rare wine in his left hand.

The tavern, mainly frequented by mercenaries, had an atmosphere that was always lively and chaotic. Drunk mercenaries slumped all over the place, filling every chair except the one in the corner of the bar—where a young blonde man sat, spine perfectly straight, legs neatly together, with arms resting symmetrically on the bar’s edge.

“That’s definitely a Holy Knight!” a drunk mercenary slurred to his companion. “Just look at his posture. He’s definitely a damn Holy Knight!”

—In fact, he wasn’t just a “damn Holy Knight”; he was the damn Knight Commander of the Holy Knights.

Samuel thought, giving the mercenary a quick slap on the back of the head. The man’s head hit the table with a thud, and he slid beneath it without a sound. His equally drunk companion, assuming he’d passed out, laughed at his “poor drinking tolerance.”

A second later, he joined his companion under the table.

No one in the tavern paid attention to the two drunken men slumped under the table, nor did anyone notice the tavern owner stepping over them as he made his way to the bar’s corner, placing the wine bottle on the counter.

The clinking sound roused Alvin. Seeing the bottle before him, he glanced back at Samuel, slightly exasperated, “I ordered an apple juice…”

Indeed, Alvin had ordered an apple juice. He wasn’t opposed to drinking, but just sneaking out had him feeling guilty enough—he didn’t want others to worry even more about his health if they found out he was drinking too. Samuel found this kind of self-restraint, simply to satisfy others’ “concern,” utterly ridiculous.

“I could throw them out for you,” Samuel suggested.

He had plenty of tricks up his sleeve to keep those stubborn Holy Knights from finding their Commander. The simplest was just to put up a sign at the door reading [No Holy Knights or Fools Allowed, except for the Knight Commander].

Alvin stared at him blankly, missing the point of Samuel’s cryptic answer.

At that moment, a hand reached over, holding an empty glass. They both turned, and a tall, blond man with golden eyes had somehow squeezed in beside them. His right arm was draped over the back of Alvin’s chair, while his left hand waved the glass in Samuel’s face as he raised an eyebrow. “If he’s not drinking, can I have it?”

Alvin was surprised—he hadn’t noticed the man approach.

Samuel looked the man up and down, suddenly irritated.

The man’s face was undoubtedly striking, but next to the poised Knight Commander, his handsome features somehow exuded a bit of a… roguish charm. This relaxed air tempered his natural aura, allowing him to blend seamlessly with the mercenaries. Even Samuel hadn’t noticed his arrival—not like Alvin, whose entrance had immediately caught his attention, standing out in the tavern as conspicuously as a milk candy in a pile of dark chocolate.

But—both were commanders, both wielded swords, and both had once been knight commanders. Why didn’t this guy have Alvin’s dignified presence? Just look at his lazy, scruffy appearance! Look at his mud-stained, ratty clothes that looked like he’d just crawled out of some grave! Look at his dull blond hair, with not a single charming little tuft that moved with emotion!

Argh, he lost!

Samuel popped the cork and poured the wine right over the man’s head.

Alvin was startled, his Brilliance tuft sticking straight up in shock. From his perspective, the man had barely finished speaking before Samuel had doused him with wine. He instinctively wanted to intervene, but both men stopped him with a raised hand. All he could do was watch, dumbfounded, as Samuel poured half a bottle of wine over the man’s head before slamming the bottle down on the bar and turning to leave.

The man seemed entirely unfazed. He wiped his face, then slipped behind the bar to grab a towel and dry himself off. As for his clothes… he sighed, unfastened his dark green cloak, and gave it a shake. The remaining wine droplets scattered away, leaving the cloak spotless. The light armor underneath also stayed dry, thanks to the cloak’s protection—a practiced move, indeed.

He grinned, showing a silly sort of charm, and held out his right hand in a fist: “Let me introduce myself. I’m Saville, Captain of the [Snow Ferret] Mercenary Corps.”

Alvin blinked, hesitantly forming his hand into a fist like Saville and lightly bumped it against his—apparently, this was a common mercenary greeting. “Alvin, Knight Commander of the Holy Knights.”

“I know who you are,” Saville replied, taking a seat next to him, eyes sparkling with interest. “The commotion you caused at the Eastern Rift a few months ago could be felt even in Greenleaf Forest. Shame I was busy excavating stones at the ruins of Benah City, or I’d have loved to see the [Lord]… I mean, the demon lord getting defeated.”

Alvin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Benah Ruins are open again?”

“Yep, once every ten years. What adventurer would miss it?” Saville shrugged nonchalantly. “Does the Church of Light take an interest there too? I’d heard rumors that the church already emptied the place of valuable artifacts centuries ago.”

“Benah City is the birthplace of the Church of Light. The predecessors only retrieved items from the first church site and kept them in a library for the faithful to admire; everything else was left untouched,” Alvin explained.

“I see. Then maybe it was the Dark Church that cleaned it out,” Saville replied indifferently, as though he’d only mentioned it in passing. He glanced at Alvin’s expression. “If you’re interested in the Benah ruins, why not consider hiring me? I know the place inside and out, and it won’t close until next month, so there’s still time to take a look.”

Alvin chuckled, shaking his head. “I am interested in the ruins, but… maybe I’ll visit in the next ten years, after I step down as Knight Commander.”

Saville stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well, if I’m still around by then and haven’t broken a leg in some adventure, you’d be welcome to join my mercenary group and explore with us.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They sat at the bar, casually exchanging stories, until Alvin suddenly sensed a familiar presence approaching. He turned, spotting a figure at the tavern door. Green eyes met his gaze from across the room, his face blank.

It was Hillier.

…

Hillier had found him!

“Is that someone you know?” Saville asked.

“Mm.” Alvin replied, his Brilliance tuft drooping.

Saville couldn’t resist glancing at the dejected tuft, teasing, “If my sources are right, the esteemed Knight Commander should be resting in bed at the moment?”

Alvin: “…”

His Brilliance tuft drooped even lower.

Saville laughed heartily, patting him on the shoulder. “Take care, then.” And with that, he quickly slipped away—not wanting to be mistaken for a villain luring the Knight Commander away and get arrested by the Pope.

For a few seconds, Alvin watched his hasty departure with envy. As Hillier approached purposefully, Alvin felt an urge to run too, but ultimately, he just stood there, head bowed, waiting to be caught.

Before Hillier could say anything, Alvin apologized first: “I’m sorry. I just felt cooped up in the room and wanted some fresh air…”

“And you ended up in a tavern for fresh air?” Hillier replied sternly.

Alvin fell silent.

Initially, he’d only intended to sneak around the Great Cathedral, but he quickly noticed the knights beginning to search for him. Not wanting to be dragged back so soon, he darted around in hiding until he’d finally escaped to the mercenary tavern.

Hillier looked at the downcast Alvin, clearly suppressing some unholy ideas that weren’t exactly in line with the teachings of Light.

“My dear Knight Commander, you’re under arrest.” The Pope lifted Alvin’s face to meet his eyes, the guilt and sadness clear in those blue eyes. Unable to suppress a grin, he said, “The charge is ‘sneaking out for a drink without inviting the Pope’!”

“…”

Alvin’s Brilliance tuft immediately perked up and began waving happily. He tried to suppress it, looking stunned for a moment, then finally laughed. “How does the Pope plan to punish me?”

“By ordering you not to be caught by anyone from the Church of Light until sunset!” Hillier declared, feigning seriousness.

Alvin blinked, then smiled. “Understood.”

4

Thirty minutes later, both men were found hiding at the Rose & Flame Tavern by Cooper.

The young Judicator glanced between the Pope and the Knight Commander, incredulous. “Half the Church of Light is out searching, the entire city’s crawling with Holy Knights, and you’re here… having a meal alone?!”

Alvin sheepishly offered, “Want to join us?”

“One dish won’t cut it. I’ll take two!”

Another thirty minutes passed before Daniel arrived at the tavern, following a message from his teacher. Before he could find Hillier, Cooper grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to a secluded corner. Sitting across from him were his teacher and the Knight Commander, whom the Holy Knights had been searching for all afternoon.

“The roasted wild boar here is great!” Hillier cheerfully suggested.

“Huh?!”

5

At sunset, Captain Miller, also the Deputy Commander, intercepted the “surrendering” Knight Commander, escorted by none other than a “luxurious” squad consisting of the Pope, the Holy Son, and the Judicator.

Alvin coughed awkwardly, “Apologies for worrying everyone.”

“You were far too reckless, sir.” Captain Miller chastised him. “Why didn’t you at least instruct the Holy Knights to cover for you before sneaking out? Then you wouldn’t have been caught!”

Alvin: “…”

“But that goes against the rules…?”

“No worries; you just go pay the penalty afterward.” Captain Miller replied solemnly.

The Knight Commander found himself at a loss for words.

Before long, the Holy Knights who’d spent the entire afternoon searching returned, greeting the Knight Commander with chuckles and playful comments:

“Today’s training was amazing! Commander, when’s the next time you’re sneaking out?”

“The Rose & Flame’s owner is pretty fierce, always tossing drunk mercenaries out. But they say he makes a mean cocktail. You should try it next time!”

“Commander, did you try the roasted wild boar? Was it any good?”

“I prefer the roasted venison at the tavern next door—nice and chewy!”

“We should go together next time!”

Alvin: “…”

The Knight Commander stiffly turned his neck toward the Deputy Commander. “So… does anyone not know I was hiding in the Rose & Flame Tavern?”

Miller thought for a moment and answered, “About a third of the knights located you within two hours; the remaining two-thirds found you within three hours. The last ten who located you have already been assigned additional training as punishment.”

Alvin: “…”

“With respect, sir, you didn’t disguise your tracks at all. Quite unqualified,” Miller added. “Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll need to make up for that with extra training as well.”

Alvin: “…”

6

The expressionless Knight Commander, his Brilliance tuft twitching, was escorted back to his room amid the knights’ lively chatter.

“All these knights are trained by you. You should be proud they found you so quickly,” Hillier said.

“…”

“Your escape shows you’re recovering well. Everyone’s happy; no one’s blaming you,” Hillier added.

“…”

“Ahem, Alvin…” Hillier said finally, “…at least poke your head out of the blanket?”

From within the rolled-up blanket came Alvin’s stubborn reply, “No!”

“Aren’t you suffocating?” Hillier urged.

“…”

There was no response—Alvin was indeed suffocating but couldn’t lie.

Hillier took matters into his own hands and peeled back the top of the blanket, and a single golden tuft immediately poked out, twitching eagerly. Suppressing laughter, he peeled back more of the blanket, revealing a head of messy blond hair and two red-tipped ears.

Normally, Alvin maintained a calm and composed expression, making it difficult even for Hillier to guess what he was feeling underneath that serene exterior. But ever since he’d gained a tuft that reflected his true emotions, his ability to hide his feelings had grown weaker. By the time Hillier had completely unwrapped him, Alvin’s face had turned a light shade of red.

The Pope couldn’t hold back any longer; at the sight of Alvin’s expression, he burst into laughter.

Alvin: “…”

Hillier, quick on his feet, seized the blanket corner before Alvin could hide again. Alvin held out for a few seconds before giving up, letting go of the blanket to cover his face instead.

“Please, let me continue recuperating,” the Knight Commander murmured. “I don’t want to go outside.”

“Oh? Because now everyone knows you ‘escaped while in bed rest, even convinced the Pope to shirk his duties and elope with you to a tavern’?”

“…Hillier!!!”

Hillier laughed so hard he nearly fell over.

Alvin, thoroughly embarrassed, sprang up and tackled him. Hillier, still laughing, was pinned to the bed as the Knight Commander defiantly grabbed the blanket and wrapped him in it.

The mage, unable to compete with the knight’s brute strength, quickly found himself rolled into a blanket burrito. He laughed and protested breathlessly, “Let me out!”

“No!”

“You’re assaulting the Pope! I’ll have you thrown in the dungeon!”

“Still not letting go!”

“Alvin is a big fool!”

“I am not!”

“You are!”

“Not a fool!”

“Big fool!”

“Not a big fool!”

The blanket burrito rolled back and forth, eventually unraveling to cover the two of them together. In the darkness beneath the blanket, the playful sounds faded, replaced by soft murmurs. After a few moments, a bare arm reached out, fumbling to draw the curtains closed. The flickering candlelight was blocked out, leaving only the dim glow from behind the curtains as their figures intertwined beneath it, merging into one.

The Runaway Knight Commander of the Church of Light – THE END