Nexus Awakened (An Isekai LitRPG Gender Bender Story)

692. A Feast For One

*Clank* *Slurp*

The grunt of a pig accompanied the clanking of silverware.

A long banquette table rocked as a large animal handled silverware far too small for their enormous hands. A bottle of wine sat beside the figure as they scoffed down slices of meat that would have caused one to choke.

*Grunt* *Lip smack*

This sole entity feasted on what could have easily fed a hundred peasants, or the servants who stood by the windows with a silver platter in hand. Atop the platter were various luxurious items, such as sweets, perfume, regal clothing, and jewels.

They were items gifted by the neighboring dukedoms and those loyal to the thing that sat and ate alone at the furthest edge of the banquette table. Among those items were possessions confiscated from visitors and even citizens of the Empire, be it coins, tools, or the hair tie of a child.

*Munch* *Chew*

A shiver ran down the spines of the servants as a pair of crimson eyes leered in their direction. All 26 of the servants that attended the banquette for one were women, and what they wore were inappropriate for the grandeur estate they served. Lacy undergarments and garter belts were exposed through transparent dresses that revealed all that lay beneath – they were dressed like the prostitutes of a whorehouse rather than the esteemed servants of the man in red.

The thing that sat there, shoveling roast duck, buttered corn and fresh bread without a hint of manners was a man worthy of reverence, and a person they did not dare to upset. The servant standing to his right noticed that his bottle of wine was only half full.

“Master Baron. Another drink?”

“You know me by now.” His voice was incredibly deep, to where one could feel the pitch drum the very air. “Hand me another bottle, my darling. Take it from the gift I’ve been meaning to send to our friends. They won’t know what wasn’t there in the first place.”

The Red Baron pursed his lips as another servant standing to his left patted his mouth with an expensive, clean cloth. It was folded and retrieved by the same servant who departed to fetch another bottle of wine.

“Send that in place of the bottles. I’m in no mood to give, so they should be grateful that they’re receiving anything from yours truly.” He said superciliously, chuckling to himself at the thought of a ‘friend’ receiving such a gift.

“Yes Master Baron.”

He stroked his red, thinly trimmed beard before running a hand through his short locks. The Red Baron boasted a body that warriors could only dream of. It was chiseled like an adonis, with wide shoulders and an imposing stature to match his brutish personality.

When one thought of the perfect warrior, one also thought of the Red Baron.

He stood at a towering two meters tall and on his body were royal-purple robes. His chest was left exposed, and his servants would move to clean any spills or food particles with their lips.

He invited several more over to his side as he spilled wine on his chest.

“Yes. A gift from myself, be it a jewel or the scraps of my plate amount to the same thing. It all comes from me in the end.” He played with a chicken carcass as his chair groaned as though on the brink of snapping apart.

A man like him had access to all the riches in the world, and yet he chose to sit on a chair that was far too small for his frame. He took pleasure in hearing it struggle. To him, it was proof that the chair was in total subjugation to him, and its squeaks were music to his ears.

In the corner of the grand hall, which was bathed in a deep, rich red from all the velvet curtains, was a pile of two hundred broken chairs. If one asked why he did not just throw it, he’d answer that he was not a wasteful person.

He continued to feast alone, sparing nothing but the scraps that fell onto his chest for his servant by his side. Portraits of himself hung from every wall, as did opulent busts that sat on golden stands. Even the candleholders of the chandeliers above were molded with his face.

His estate was his ultimate sanctuary, and where he housed his most beloved treasures – his 15 Trophies: a collection of women with unmatched beauty, even beyond that of his flawless servants.

Not even they were allowed to share a meal with him.

Suddenly, loud banging came from somewhere within his estate. He nonchalantly continued eating as desperate stomps eventually reached the entrance of his hall. The doors immediately burst open, revealing a man dressed in red plate armor.

“Master Baron! You have visitors –!”

His throat shut tightly. The man collapsed to his knees as he clasped at his throat, unable to speak as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat.

“Do you dare interrupt me during my meal?” The Red Baron cared little for guests. “No matter how important it is, it shall wait. If they’re in a hurry, then they should come to me first than to send a door guard my way.”

Not another word could leave the man’s lips.

This was because of the Red Baron’s power.

“A man of a lesser caliber has no right to speak in the presence of a leader of men.”

“Oh please, Master Baron. Spare the fool~”

“He’s only your messenger~ He means well~”

His servants rehearsed a scripted response. Their melodramatic voices, and the way they leaned back and threw a hand against their temples caused the Red Baron to applaud and snap his fingers.

“True. A great man shows mercy to those he leads. Hmph. Haha. It’s fine. I’ve already anticipated their arrival. You should stand. Quickly. Or you might just…”

*Crunch*

“… become an instrument. So you’re here.”

Because the Red Baron did not order him to stand and merely suggested it, the man could not move an inch. The crunch came as boney Insectid entity wearing a tailcoat suit welcomed himself through the door.

*Splat*

And he trampled on the man’s spine, crushing him like an insect before their eyes. The Red Baron grinned, all the while his servants turned pale and kept their gazes low. His guts spilled over the red carpets, and at once, the nearest servants moved in to clean up.

“Bzzt. It would do you good to not leave scraps in my way. Bzzt. You know how difficult it is for a Maestro to adlib when they have a symphony on their mind. Bzzt.”

He drew one of his six tucked arms behind his back to gesture to the servants to cease immediately.

“Bzzt. It would be a waste of beautiful women. Bzzt. Even you would kill for them. Bzzt. I have no intention of making an enemy of you. Bzzt.”

The being had two black composite eyes that were like marbles. A green vortex swirled within, carrying some semblance of who he once was. His voice was hollow and buzzed with a deep resonance, causing the lungs of the servants to vibrate. It was nearly impossible for them to breathe, let alone speak when the Maestro spoke.

A green tie hung from his collar, and yellow stripes ran across his black suit, completing his image of a bee.

He was as tall as the Red Baron, even taller if one counted his antennae which were shaped and colored like white-tipped conducting wands. But the real wand – his stinger – resided safely in hand behind his back.

One could easily tell that he was no ordinary being.

“Enemies? My friend. Haha, my dear friend. At one time that would have been true, but we are alike. I’m up here, and you’re a bit lower than me. But still alike. Haha! Oh Beethoven. Men like us know that women are like the gifts you can find in the Timeless Ruins. They’re one of a kind.”

“Bzzt. You say that even though your Trophies are still missing fingers and teeth. Bzzt.”

“Mistakes have punishments. Take this for example.” The Red Baron picked out a piece of perfectly cooked lamb chops. “My eighth wife is an excellent chef. You can tell it’s her by the way the meat has been roasted. But as you can see, there is an imprint made here by my tenth wife.”

Indeed, there were sear marks not only on the meat, but across every single item on the banquette table to mark who cooked what.

“Who should get the praise then? Who should be punished? The answer is simple. The one that is imperfect. Don’t pretend to be concerned for them. A Healer is bound to show their face at some point. At times like this I feel it would be better to hit the Nexus. Are we still meandering about?”

A Maestro was one of if not the highest level that a Maestro of Flesh could reach. But it was clear who possessed the greater authority here. Colors, although not on the same level as Moons or Stars, were still a terrifying existence.

Under normal circumstances, they’d possibly be evenly matched. However, the Red Baron was unsurprisingly one of the owners of a Seed.

“Bzzt. That depends on your cooperation. Bzzt. I’m here to make my collection. Bzzt.”

“Ah, that’s right. I do still have the other piece of the Blue Chorus’ heart. In exchange?”

“Bzzt. Some worthy news your kind will certainly enjoy. Bzzt. A potential sixteenth Trophy. Bzzt.”

“Say no more.” The seat shattered right as he stood from the table. “And here I thought you’d resort to threats. I tend to forget I’m not dealing with Demi-Human scum. Follow. My darlings! Divide the food amongst yourselves. I planned on feeding my fifth wife today, but she’s been sneaking out food at night. Twelve days without food or water.”

“Yes Master Baron!” They answered as a choir.

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