Of course, the Dragon Knights Order has dragons.

But those are all wyverns of mixed blood—not pure-blooded true dragons. Their power simply can’t compare.

So why doesn’t Alte have a wyvern to ride?

Simple: as Dragon Knight Captain at the Radiant Sun Tier, the moment he fights, his overflowing magic becomes unbearable for any wyvern.

It might not kill it outright, but it’d leave a deep psychological scar.

Over time, every wyvern in the Order kept their distance from Alte—avoiding him like the plague.

Yet for a Dragon Knight, there’s one awkward truth… Without a mount, Alte—master rider though he is—can’t unleash his full strength.

“Bro, no wars brewing. Why not just chill and retire at home?”

Philo shrugged dismissively.

“If you can’t find a true dragon, just drop it.”

“I’m twenty-one! Don’t hit me with ‘retire.’ As captain, how can I stop moving forward?”

Alte patted Philo’s shoulder and headed back to his room. With free time on his hands, gaming sounded perfect.

“Bro, order me takeout later, thanks~”

“Don’t you have your own money!?”

***

In Favna’s dim little room, she stared at the crimson firewall. After hesitating, she abandoned the hack.

Not that she couldn’t breach it—but if caught, escape would be near impossible.

Trading her human-world life for some shady commission? Like grabbing a sesame seed and dropping the whole watermelon.

Who’d wanna live offline in some remote mountain hole anyway?

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s check the boss’s ID first.”

Favna knew she seemed a little naive—but she wasn’t careless.

Free lunch? Never happens.

A client tossing her a thousand gold coins? Gotta vet him. What if he’s after *her*?

…Wait. She’d been fully wrapped up at the café. He probably never saw her face.

Fingers tapping the keyboard, she searched.

The Order’s firewall blocked Alte’s official file, but public rumors were fair game.

Honestly, Favna’s mind drifted dark: *Did he abduct girls? Host wild parties?*

Shockingly, his record was spotless.

Then she froze. Rubbing her eyes, she reread the screen in disbelief.

The Dragon Knight Captain had one legendary nickname—and the words refused to change.

“Pfft!! Hahahaha!!” She doubled over, clutching her stomach.

“A Dragon Knight with *no dragon*?! HAHAHA!!”

Laughing till tears streamed, she’d have dragged someone else to share the joke—if anyone were there.

It was like a Wife Cake with no wife. Absurd. Hilarious.

Once calm, she rushed to send Alte a friend request.

She’d fled the café too fast earlier—adding him back was the only move.

*Ding~ Friend request accepted.*

She instantly tagged him “Captain.”

Alte blinked. He’d assumed she’d stick to in-game chat. *Adding and deleting me again?*

“Something up, Silver Dragon’s Dream?”

“Just ‘Silver Dragon,’ Sir Knight.”

Her bluntness made Alte doubt: *Was that shy café girl really her?*

“Silver Dragon… you’re Dragonkin, right?”

“Obviously. Problem with that?”

*No way I’m admitting I’m an actual dragon,* Favna thought. *What if he’s a dragon-slayer?*

“No issue… just rare for a Silver Dragon lineage…” Mid-text, Alte added: “So… silver-white hair?”

“Silver-white. Precisely.”

Her reincarnated silver hair was her pride—slightly messy, but beautiful.

“Then be careful. Don’t let the royal family spot you.”

Favna’s blood ran cold. *The Dragon Guard commission… Are royals hunting dragons for soup AND locking girls in dungeons?*

Her sister’s warning echoed: *“Stay covered.”* Hiding her hair.

Fear prickled—but warmth followed.

*He’s royalty-aligned… yet warning me? Protecting me?*

…What a genuinely kind person.

“Sorry for the ‘breakup’ excuse at the café.”

“No worries.” Oblivious to the “nice guy card” he’d just earned, Alte sent a game invite. “Free? Let’s run a dungeon.”

“Meh~ Since you’re the boss, I’ll *graciously* be your gaming buddy today…”

Thirty minutes later, Alte slumped before his screen, numb.

**10-YEAR BAN** glowed boldly.

He sucked in air and typed furiously on QQ:

“I didn’t ask you to heal me! And can your fox-headed healer *change gear*?! One heal = decade ban! Everyone thinks I’m some veteran troll now!”

Favna fired back instantly:

“Oh please~ If *someone’s* raid DPS wasn’t trash, would I have healed you?”

She caught herself—*right, I’m the hired buddy*—and switched tone:

“Boss… next time, skip swordsman. Try gunslinger or knight. Swordsmen need skill. Watching you play makes my blood pressure… *Ahem.* We’re all family here. No swearing.”