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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

Nonsense

⟬ A short time earlier... ⟭ 

Phaedra of Nerine wandered the inner walls of Green Corn Keep, overwhelmed by the thoughts crowding her mind. 

It was an indisputable fact that Tychon was the savior of her Guild Metal Wolf. 

Back then, she had refused to give him any face. 

When she first saw him, he wasn't even wearing any armor. He had a Tyrion sword-- but that didn't mean much of anything. Tyrion steel was the finest in the Realm. 

His face was brimming with youth, his skin smooth and free of battle scars. 

His green, hair flowed softly in the breeze, pampered and too-perfect. 

His gaze all but screamed 'I'm better than you.'

It was obvious he was some sort of noble-- at least to her. 

Phaedra had been part of Tyrion's standing army long before she joined the Wolves. Every young noble she'd met back then only belonged to two categories: perverted scoundrel at worst and useless fop at best.