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Headed by a Snake

I woke up in this world with a System and a sword. Without hesitation, I chose to complete the princess’ quest with my weapons: Arrogance. Cunning. Pride. I will lead guild Sol Invictus. Denizens of the 7 hells, respect me. Servants of the 11 heavens, know fear. Guild Invictus, know the suffering of training so you can wrest victory from the jaws of those who dare doubt you. This is a story about a snake named Tycondrius waking up in a fantasy world of swords and sorcery. There is action, violence, unapologetic murder, and arrogant displays of power. There is an emphasis on combat growth as well as psychological growth on more than a few members of Guild Invictus. There is camaraderie and also the inevitable comedic dialogue amongst manly men. There are even elements of romance and Tycon running away from terrifying, powerful women. (Did you know most female snakes eat their partners after mating?) Give this book a read. I hope some of these stories can inspire you to fight your battles with analytical intelligence, heroic courage, and ruthless lethality. Work is completed as of 9May2024. There's also a few side-stories written in Chapter 1151! The Author is working on a new story called 'I Wish You Were Never Reborn.' After four or so years of writing, my skills have much improved. Highly recommend. Here is my discord: https://discord.gg/NNbAj7N Constructive criticism and corrections welcome. Other Authors extra-welcome. You can find a list of characters at https://snek.fandom.com/wiki/Character_List Cover image credit: Johnabrash at Fiverr

CouchSurfingDragon · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
1152 Chs

Illusory Worlds

Tycondrius' back smashed onto the ground, forcing him to expel the air in his lungs and wish he had feigned injury and stayed at camp. Falling back to his survival instincts, he activated his ⌈Tumble⌋ movement technique to pull his arm away, rolling to his feet to barely avoid a skull-crushing stomp. 

"Cunning..." The orc growled as he flourished what remained of his curved blade. "You'd have made a fine Orcish warrior."

Tycon grabbed onto his dislocated shoulder and painfully jammed it back into place, "Oh, shut the hells up, you green-skinned battle maniac."

Garock chuckled as he raised his broken sword once more... "Make peace with your gods, warrior Tycondrius."

"I'd rather not. I don't like him much." Tycon shook his head as he circulated his mana for another skill, "⌈Shadowfang Strike.⌋"