Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Emiya the Mother Hen

Outside the light screen, deep within the subterranean magecraft workshop of the Tohsaka Manor during the Fourth Holy Grail War, the dim space was entirely dominated by an unrestrained, suffocating gilded brilliance. The complex magecraft circuits carved into the stone walls pulsed with pale golden magical energy, casting a solemn, ancient weight over the room that clashed violently with the overwhelming, arrogant opulence of a certain king. The air itself felt heavy, thick with the oppressive aura of ancient Noble Phantasms and the metallic tang of pure gold.

Gilgamesh reclined lazily on a plush sofa, his body clad in resplendent golden armor that shimmered brilliantly in the gloom. Each plate was forged with exquisite, flawless patterns, the edges adorned with complex gilded designs that caught the ambient light like sunstone. The broad, sharp shoulder plates outlined a silhouette that exuded immense pressure, while the fitted chest plate accentuated his tall, noble bearing. A golden belt secured at his waist was inlaid with tiny, fragmented crystals, refracting blinding points of light with his every subtle movement. Even the gauntlets covering the backs of his hands displayed the absolute pinnacle of craftsmanship—every minute detail proclaiming the supreme, untouchable honor of the King of Heroes.

He rested his chin on one hand, the armored fingertips tapping an idle, rhythmic beat against his cheek. His crimson eyes were half-lidded, his gaze fixed on the mysterious broadcast that had materialized before him. Within those ruby depths swirled unconcealed indifference and absolute scorn. The golden light caught the sharp, perfect lines of his profile, amplifying the sheer arrogance of a ruler who looked down upon all living beings as mere dust.

The moment Emiya’s resolute words settled from the broadcast, a low, derisive chuckle vibrated in Gilgamesh’s throat. That laughter was saturated with extreme arrogance, as if he had just heard the most absurd, laughable delusion in human history.

He slowly raised his eyes, the contempt in his crimson pupils thickening into a venomous glare. An armored finger lifted, pointing vaguely toward the screen. The armor plates clicked together—a crisp, sharp sound carrying indisputable authority.

His lips parted, his voice dripping with biting sarcasm and the condescending disgust of a king addressing an overstepping peasant. “Hah. How dare this mongrel spout such drivel. He is nothing but a faker who can only slavishly copy and produce counterfeits. How is a wretch like him worthy of presuming to discuss the superiority of the counterfeit versus the genuine?”

Before the echoes of his mockery even faded, his shoulders shifted. The broad, gilded fabric of his mantle swept past his side, stirring a heavy wind laden with the oppressive aura of his treasury. His hand raised higher, his tone abruptly sharpening into a blade of pure wrath.

It was the absolute disdain of the one true king who held the originals of all treasures in the world. His words fell like a gavel, heavy with absolute authority. “A counterfeit can never compare to the genuine article! It is merely a shoddy imitation, yet it dares to bark such nonsense before this king.”

【Within the light screen, Emiya slightly raised his eyes, his gaze falling on the empty space ahead. His fingertip lifted, giving a faint, dismissive wave. A wisp of pale blue magical energy rose with the motion, slowly dissipating into the air. His tone remained calm, yet carried an unquestionable certainty as he continued. “When two things perform identically, what determines their superiority is not the object itself, but the viewer.”】

【The corners of his lips quirked upward, a faint trace of understanding flashing in his steel-gray eyes. His tone gained a dry hint of teasing as he added softly, “However, for the creator of the genuine article, this is hardly a pleasant matter.”】

[All the creators of the genuine articles who got NTR’d: You know that too?!]

【Emiya lowered his gaze, glancing at the faint light shimmering in his palm before his expression returned to its usual stoic calm. Keeping his back straight, his tone carried a deep understanding of human nature. “But humanity is a species constantly advancing towards the future. For progress, the concept of improvement is indispensable.”】

【He looked up at Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka, his eyes clear and bright. His voice grew earnest, each word imbued with steady logic. “The genuine article created from nothing has its own inherent value, but subsequent imitations—derivative works—also hold value.”】

【He raised his hand, giving it a light wave. The lingering magical energy that had dissipated earlier coalesced once more into fine points of light, slowly swirling above his palm. His movements were gentle, almost demonstrative, as he spoke with solemn conviction. “My projection, as the term literally implies, is just an ordinary copy. But imitative works in this world are all existences developed from genuine articles.”】

【Lifting his arm slightly, he sent the points of light in his palm drifting gently forward into the empty air. His gaze held a quiet certainty about the future. His tone carried a seasoned clarity, each word connecting with quiet weight. “To infinitely expand what begins from a single existence—that is what it means to create the future.”】

【Mash stood quietly beside him, listening with rapt attention. Her pale purple eyes were filled with seriousness, her breathing kept light so as not to interrupt. As Emiya finished, she gave a slow nod, understanding and admiration blooming in her gaze. A faint smile touched her lips as she sighed softly. “I see. That’s a truly deep meaning.”】

【Immediately, Emiya’s demeanor took a sharp turn. The heavy, philosophical atmosphere completely evaporated, replaced by a touch of everyday mundanity. He looked directly at Fujimaru Ritsuka, his tone lightening considerably. “Then I’ll go back to cleaning the room. Master, is your room tidied up?”】

Outside the frame, in the Fourth Holy Grail War timeline, Waver Velvet paused mid-breath, his face freezing in sudden surprise. His eyebrows shot up, and he unconsciously raised his voice, muttering with utter bewilderment. “Huh? Cleaning rooms? How did the topic suddenly jump to that?” His tone dripped with confusion at the severe whiplash in pacing.

No one paid any attention to his abrupt question. The light screen simply continued to flow steadily, unfolding the scene within Chaldea.

【Hearing the sudden question, Fujimaru Ritsuka blinked, taken aback. He raised a hand to sheepishly scratch his cheek. A slightly awkward smile curved his lips as he replied with a touch of guilty honesty. “It’s basically done… though it gets a bit messy occasionally.”】

【A gentle, gratified smile slowly spread across Emiya’s face. His eyes held a soft light of understanding as he replied softly yet firmly, “That’s good. A room is a mirror reflecting a person’s inner world.”】

【As soon as the words left his mouth, his expression turned slightly more serious, shedding some of the gentleness for a strict earnestness. His gaze locked onto Ritsuka. “A tidy state reflects your character.”】

【Standing to the side, Mash couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Her eyes curved into gentle crescents, her pale purple gaze full of teasing warmth as she looked at Ritsuka. “Hehehe, he got you there, Senpai.”】

【Suddenly, a sharp, urgent emergency assembly alarm pierced the corridor. The warning klaxon was shrill and glaring, carrying a blaring urgency that demanded immediate attention.】

【The smile instantly vanished from Emiya’s face. His brows furrowed, a flicker of sharp surprise passing through his eyes as a low sound of confusion escaped him. “Hmm?”】

【Down by their feet, Fou instantly perked up his ears, his fluffy white fur bristling. He tilted his head toward the blaring sirens and let out a confused, high-pitched cry. “Fou?”】

【Mash’s expression hardened into grave seriousness. Her pale purple eyes filled with combat vigilance as she quickly turned to Ritsuka, her voice tight with urgency. “An alarm…! Something seems to have happened, Senpai!”】

【Amidst the sudden, tense atmosphere, an abrupt yet crystal-clear notification chime rang out over the broadcast. The MasterLove Appraisal Radar delivered its absolute verdict: Servant Emiya, appraised as maternal love, mother-hen-like affection.】

The scene shifted once more, this time to the Tohsaka Manor in the Fifth Holy Grail War timeline. The house was elegant and quiet, with a few well-tended potted plants resting by the window frames. A faint trace of residual magecraft lingered in the calm air.

Tohsaka Rin stood frozen in the center of the hall. The awkward restraint she had been maintaining ever since learning her Servant’s true identity had just violently snapped. Hearing that broadcasted appraisal, her body went rigid. Her eyes widened to comical proportions, her face a perfect picture of disbelief and utter astonishment.

She unconsciously raised a hand to cover the corner of her mouth, her voice dripping with incredulous mockery as she turned to look at the red-clad Archer beside her. “Huh? Maternal love? Mother hen?”

Her bright aquamarine eyes danced with mischief, the end of her sentence rising in a teasing lilt. “Archer, you actually have this much contrast? And here I thought you were just a cynical playboy who liked to crack sarcastic jokes.”

Archer, whose true identity as Emiya Shirou was already exposed to her, stiffened almost imperceptibly. The usual frivolous, confident smirk that hung on his lips instantly evaporated. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy, resigned sigh that carried a distinct touch of embarrassment at being publicly exposed. “Mother hen, really… Ah, yare yare.”

Faced with Rin’s blunt, merciless teasing, the usually sharp-tongued bowman who never yielded an inch in an argument found himself entirely at a loss for words. He stood there, momentarily rendered mute.

After all, his mind had just instinctively and rather carefully reviewed his recent actions. His fingertips paused against his temple, a flicker of indescribable, horrifying realization passing through his steel-gray eyes.

It seemed he really did have a bit of a tendency to fuss like a mother hen.

Ever since being summoned by Rin to this manor, he had almost single-handedly taken over managing their three daily meals, brewing her tea perfectly, and paying careful attention to the household chores. Thinking about it objectively… the light screen’s appraisal wasn’t entirely unfounded.

That realization only made his sigh deepen, leaving the cynical Heroic Spirit looking thoroughly defeated.