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

⟬ City-State Whitehearth, northern guard tower, early dawn. ⟭

Tycondrius flicked his wrist, activating his spatial ring and stowing his arcane marker.

It was a piece of chalk. Magic chalk. Unreasonably expensive chalk, stupendously up-marked for the implied rarity of its ingredients.

He'd gone through nearly a half-dozen of them, scribing the formations he needed.

He was mentally fatigued, physically fatigued... and hungry.

He needed a break-- temporary respite...

He couldn't rest overlong, of course... for obvious reasons.

The most difficult of his preparations had been completed.

He felt like he deserved *something* that resembled reposition... but the notion that he could be doing something potentially constructive elicited the feeling of lingering guilt.

Tycon closed his eyes and concentrated, taking his time to assess his condition.

North Wall