CouchSurfingDragon

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

Headed by a Snake

The Tactician was grinning wider than a shite-eating possum, "Now, can we sit and converse peaceably? Do you have some chairs, or--"

Bannok trudged out from his room... but even before Tactician Tycon turned to look at him, his face twisted into a grimace and he wrinkled his nose.

Ariadne felt her entire face flush hot with shame.

Her husband hadn't shaved or bathed in weeks... and the unwashed clothing he wore reeked of alcohol. She made sure to change out the bandages on his severed arm every sun-- she didn't want it to get infected... but he didn't let her wash anything else.

"You two's," Bannok slashed his secondhand sword through the air, a slow and sloppy swing, even for a human, "Get out... I don't wanna talk to ya's."

"Or you'll do what?" Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Hit me with that pig iron sword?"

"Boss," The boy, Pale, tugged at the Tactician's arm, "We should go. We're not welcome here."

You’ll Do What? (Part Two)