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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

Unlawful Order

⟬ Outside the Restful Hen Inn, some time earlier... ⟭ 

"I don't get why this hurts so baaaad~!" Ree whined. 

Pale raised his eyebrows and let out a long, deep breath, allowing his cheeks to puff up as he did. 

Ree's honesty made him lose his concentration. 

That made it hurt again. 

He and the members of the Hero Party were waiting outside the inn while Boss Tycon talked to Lady Neerin...

--all while sitting on both knees and holding their weapons up toward the sky. 

His spear, Beithir Blaster--

His spear was his latest, closest, most reliable friend.

It was, at most, 4 ponze. 

Resting on his upraised palms... it still felt like 4 ponze.

--but the muscles of his arms felt like weak, wobbly jelly constructs. 

Pale wanted to close his fists-- to tighten his shaky grip...

--but that was definitely not allowed. 

Anything that would make the punishment easier wasn't allowed.