All for Art!

Phew! I'm completely drained...

With the moon high in the sky and midnight approaching, Samael swayed back and forth in the corridor leading to his bedroom, his face ashen and his whole being looking listless.

Now, he has only one feeling: regret, in short, deep regret.

Why show off your skills for no reason? Aren't you just asking for trouble? The good old days of lying around and being a lazy bum are gone forever.

Samael rubbed his aching temples and groaned in pain.

For five consecutive days, he was meticulously scheduled to either teach Boudica, Nero, and the two Celtic Princesses, instruct the Roman Centurion on military skills, or be pursued by fervent druids seeking knowledge of runes and other mystical arts.

Oh, and he also needs to take some etiquette lessons, political education classes, and some basic miscellaneous studies to correct Nero's increasingly skewed outlook on life, the world, and values, which he developed under his special family environment.

The two Britain princesses, after a while, also joined in the fun. Gradually, they lingered, becoming more and more engrossed in listening. Their attitude towards him changed from initial fear and trepidation to respect and affection. They increasingly liked to stick close to him, asking him all sorts of questions.

In the evening, he would hone Brunhilde's martial arts and Magecraft, greet his wife Skadi, who was stationed in the Shadow Realm, and his friend Scathach on the Viking Warships, and then integrate and analyze intelligence and refine the steps of the operation.

Furthermore, even during mealtimes, there was no rest; they would hold meetings with Boudica, the Centurion, Brunhilde to formulate corresponding suppression strategies for several frivolous tribes and eliminate potential threats before departure.

Even recently, those plump, middle-aged women with wrinkles on their faces more numerous than tree bark grooves have been eyeing him, their eyes, like a wolf's, gleaming with a sinister green light.

Ahem, don't get me wrong, these are the tribe's food cooks.

Britain food culture—those who know, know.

After enduring several days of unpalatable food, Samael found it difficult to swallow. Not wanting to deprive his taste buds, he couldn't resist preparing some herbal seasonings himself and cooking a few meals, eventually winning over the middle-aged and elderly women.

The problem is, he's so busy he doesn't have time to teach them what to cook. Besides, their wrinkled faces could trap flies, completely shattering his beautiful fantasy of having a cook.

Okay, the reason behind this is the key.

While silently complaining, Samael rolled his eyes, shrugged, and revealed his true nature as a sucker for good looks and a pervert.

However, as it got closer to the bedroom, the ancient snake became increasingly light-footed, its hunched body gradually straightened, and a look of contentment spread across its face.

Although Samael has been overwhelmed with work these past few days and is feeling quite busy, he is, after all, a product of his training in Uruk and Athens, and he is not going to let this workload wear him down.

You have to pretend to be a little timid, otherwise you won't get to enjoy timid services like lap pillows, hugs, and massages during your rest time.

When it comes to hugs, Boudica is the best; and for lap pillows, Brunhilde is the ultimate choice...

Cough cough, that's not the point!

He sacrificed his time and energy to eliminate future troubles and solidify the Pan-Hellenic Alliance's defenses, not for such a vulgar thing!

With only two days left before departure, carrying the heavy responsibility of serving God, let's persevere a little longer.

The ancient snake smashed the object repeatedly, its face full of righteous indignation, yet a hint of regret flickered in its eyes.

Having calmed himself down a bit and looking forward to tomorrow's lecture, Samael, with a noble spirit of dedication, went into his bedroom.

But as soon as he entered, Samael's lips twitched, and he skillfully pulled out a short figure with a golden, droopy head from the bulging silk quilt. His vertical pupils opened and closed, and he gave a sinister sneer.

"Again? You're quite free, aren't you? Looks like I haven't assigned enough homework."

"Oh no, teacher! I've been studying art very diligently lately, dedicating myself to discovering, appreciating, and even creating beauty!"

He was being held on the bed, a future Tyrant, his hands gesturing like conductor's batons, his tone impassioned, his expression solemn, speaking with conviction.

"You study art, what are you doing in my room?"

Samael frowned, sneered, and muttered to himself.

Art? Art in bed? AV?

"Beauty is everywhere, regardless of occasion or status! Look, the lines on your body are amazing... Hmm... Your muscles are streamlined without being abrupt; your skin is both resilient and delicate; your profile is soft and beautiful, with a charm that rivals that of a woman; your overall body shape is perfect as a canvas for copying and a model for rock carving."

While being carried by Nero, he stretched out a pair of claws and reached into Samael's collar, grabbing, kneading, and patting it without restraint, praising it with a tsk-tsk expression, and solemnly giving his professional comments as an artist.

Samael felt a chill run down his spine, goosebumps rose on his skin, and he distanced himself from the "artist".

"Didn't you say that we could learn from you? You are very suitable to be a human figure model for painting. Come on, Lord Samael, don't be shy, dedicate yourself to art."

As Nero spoke, he stretched out his claws again, seemingly unsatisfied.

"Since we're just idling around anyway, why not let Yu pursue aesthetics... touch... cough cough... feel it again..."

"I'm so pleased that everyone is pursuing aesthetics now."

Samael brushed away Nero's claws without leaving a trace, raised his hand and gently patted the little girl's shoulder, his gaze deep and his lips gradually curving into a smile.

"Coincidentally, I also have an art form that I need to try on you."

"Ah?"

"What 'ah'? It's your turn to sacrifice yourself for art!"

As Samael looked up, a sinister smile appeared on his face. He raised his hands and conjured a purplish-red magic rope about seven and a half meters long.

Suddenly, a purplish-red rope, as agile and serpentine as a snake, snaked forward, folded in half, and looped around the little girl's fair neck, tying knots in sequence at her collarbone, sternum, and pubic bone.

Then, the rope end is wrapped around the crotch, tied in a knot slightly above the back of the chest, passed through the rope snake behind the neck, and pulled apart to the left and right. It is then wrapped around the chest hole from under the armpit and pulled apart to the left and right again, forming a diamond-shaped rope pattern.

As the rope was being adjusted from top to bottom and tightened, it eventually came to rest at the waist, across the crotch, and deep into Nero's buttocks. This caused the unbalanced girl to humiliatingly lean forward and fall headfirst into the bed.

This art is called "Rope Arts," also known as "bondage."

And the first lesson that the future Tyrant is currently taking is a classic rope knot technique— Kigyo-bind.

After completing his mission, Samael looked at the wriggling artwork on the bed with satisfaction and pride. Then, he skillfully sealed the knot, picked up the rope, went out, turned left, and stuffed Nero back into his little nest.

Everything, for art!

Samael lingered by the window, admiring his masterpiece for a few moments. He felt the timeless power of the artwork and was deeply moved. On his way back, his steps became lighter.

However, perhaps because he was too infatuated, on his way back to the house, the ancient snake almost bumped into a figure walking towards him.