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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 · 奇幻
分數不夠
1152 Chs

Good Thinking

Stickyfingers sat in the corner of the steadily rocking room, gripping the hilt of his tri-edged rondel. 

"Fink, boyo..." He whispered to himself... "'Ow did da Bosun do it?

He shut his eyes, visualizing the green-haired Lieutenant. 

Arms raised about parallel... shoulder blades wide. 

The dagger goes down-- direct, without overreaching. Like the chop of an axe... all of a Coral Boy's weight and power focused on the strike. 

Aim for the leatherneck... the spot between the helm and the chestplate... fleshy bits and not bone. 

Trap the weapon. 

Trap the arm. 

Grab at any loose clothing. 

Kick the enemy in the crotch. 

Spit in his stupid, f*cking face. 

The Bosun taught a hundred different lessons... before, during, and even after putting Stickyfingers' own stupid f*cking face on the deck. 

'Again,' He'd say... 

Again... and again... and again...