Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 44

Chapter 44: The Counterfeit Arjuna Whose Settings Are Hard to Pass Censorship

Fujimaru Ritsuka spun around, his boots scraping against the uneven reef. His gaze locked onto Mash, panic threading through his voice. “Mash, are you okay!?”

Mash shook her head to clear the dust. She raised a gauntleted hand and patted the massive cross-shaped shield planted firmly in front of her. The ethereal, glowing patterns etched across its surface gradually dimmed into nothingness. A relieved smile broke through her exhaustion. Her voice carried the heavy weight of fatigue, yet remained entirely unshaken. “Ah, yes, I’m finally fine! We made it through, thanks to deploying the Noble Phantasm.”

Da Vinci stood a few paces away, one hand pressed flat against her chest as she let out a long, ragged exhale. Cold sweat slid down her temples, catching the dim light. “Ah, that was entirely too close…” She turned her head toward Emiya, a distinct flicker of approval dancing in her eyes. “I have to say, you really can do just about anything.”

Emiya silently withdrew his Projection magecraft. The azure circuits of magical energy lingering at his fingertips shattered into motes of light, slowly dissipating into the salty air. He kept his steely gaze fixed on the distant figures of Arash and Arjuna displayed across the sky’s light screen. “Archers are simply that kind of existence,” he replied, his voice calm and measured. “It seems our opponents operate on the exact same principle.”

Emiya shifted his stance, turning slightly toward Ritsuka. His silver eyes narrowed, sharp as a hunting eagle locking onto prey. He reached out, clapping a heavy hand onto the younger boy’s shoulder. “Keep your guard up, Master. I know these two. One is the Great Hero of Persia, Arash. The other is the Hero Endowed by Heaven, Arjuna.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping back over the imposing postures of the two archers. The gravity in his tone deepened. “Looking at this purely from the level of Heroic Spirits… even if the overall strength of these Counterfeits is heavily discounted, the enemy still holds an overwhelming advantage.”

Mash gripped the handle of her shield tighter, her knuckles turning white. She stared at the two legendary heroes. “Arash… and Arjuna,” she murmured softly. “Both are Heroic Spirits who lived during the Age of Gods…”

Before she could finish the thought, the ocean waters on the light screen violently surged. Towering waves crashed against the jagged rocks, and two razor-sharp auras pierced straight into the heavens. Emiya’s pupils constricted. In a blur of crimson, he stepped smoothly in front of Ritsuka, shielding the boy with his own body. “They’re here!” he barked, his voice ringing with unquestionable authority. “Don’t show them a single ounce of weakness, Master.”

A heartbeat later, two figures descended from the sky. They landed squarely on the reef just meters away from the Chaldea group, bringing with them the harsh sting of the sea breeze and the suffocating, crushing pressure of the Age of Gods.

Arjuna’s pristine white robes fluttered wildly in the wind. He looked down at the completely unharmed Chaldea party, his brow furrowing a fraction of an inch. “We have already sacrificed Siegfried,” he noted, his tone laced with a somber, calculating scrutiny. “Yet the damage inflicted upon you is remarkably small.”

He lifted his chin, his dark eyes locking onto Emiya. A flicker of recognition passed through his gaze. His long fingers rested lightly against the ornate handle of the bow at his side. “Nameless hero. Though I know not who thou art, thy strength is certainly worthy of praise.”

Emiya stepped forward to meet the challenge. A faint, distinctly mocking smile played at the corners of his mouth. “To actually attempt to eliminate us without using a Noble Phantasm… that must be your fatal strategic error.”

He let the silence stretch for a second, his gaze drifting over to the Persian archer. A hint of dry playfulness bled into his voice. “But then again, putting Arjuna aside… Arash cannot exactly use his Noble Phantasm, can he?”

Arash blinked, then vigorously scratched the back of his head. A look caught halfway between a laugh and a grimace crossed his tanned face. He threw his hands up in the air, his tone dripping with helpless distress. “Ah, you got me! Indeed, it’s quite a headache. A massive headache, really. After all, the moment I use my Noble Phantasm, that person is going to absolutely lament my death!”

“She’ll definitely scold me for it,” Arash continued, his grin widening. “Maybe even spit on the ground while she’s at it. And then she’ll spiral into total self-loathing, convincing herself she messed up the entire operation again.” He mimicked a frantic, hair-pulling gesture, exaggerating the movements so much that the suffocating tension in the air instantly evaporated.

Arjuna nodded slightly beside him. A hint of imperceptible agreement flashed in his dark eyes. “Our Master’s internal structure and principles are exceedingly simple,” he murmured, his tone carrying a touch of helpless certainty. “She would indeed react exactly like that.”

Inside the bustling Control Room of New Chaldea, the conversation broadcasting from the light screen echoed over the main speakers. Fujimaru Ritsuka leaned casually against the central console. Hearing Arjuna’s deadpan description of Jalter’s personality, a loud laugh burst from his chest. “Hahaha! Doesn’t that just mean she’s completely simple-minded? I can personally attest to that. The previous Alter would absolutely do exactly what Arash just described. Honestly, that flustered look of hers is incredibly cute when you think about it.”

He was laughing so hard he completely failed to notice the sudden, chilling drop in temperature behind him. The female Servants milling about the room had all stopped their respective tasks. One by one, their eyes began to glow in the dim light. The crimson glint in their collective gaze practically solidified into daggers, and the heavy, sour stench of overwhelming jealousy flooded the room, thick enough to choke on.

Back on the broadcast, Arjuna suddenly took a step forward. The atmospheric pressure surrounding him plummeted, the air growing thin and heavy. His eyes sharpened, glinting like unsheathed arrows, and his tone darkened with a deeply possessive obsession. “This makes me incredibly unhappy… because only I am allowed to make her cry.”

Deep within New Chaldea’s Servant lounge, warm, golden light spilled softly across the plush sofas. The real Arjuna suddenly shot up from his seat. His hands clenched into tight fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. His handsome, usually stoic face was flushed bright red with absolute shame and sheer indignation. A thick blue vein throbbed violently at his temple.

“Is this Counterfeit even human!?” Arjuna roared, his voice echoing off the lounge walls with enough force to make the porcelain teacups rattle violently in their saucers. “How can he possibly say such utterly shameless things!?”

On the light screen, Da Vinci rested her chin delicately on her palm, her index finger lightly tapping the corner of her lip. She tilted her head, her brilliant eyes swimming with playful contemplation. “A Counterfeit… she… hm,” she murmured under her breath.

She quickly organized the chaotic pieces of the puzzle in her mind. Her eyes lit up with sudden realization. Leaning forward, she projected a tone of sly, obvious curiosity. “I say, you two. I have a rather interesting question. May I ask?”

Arash immediately perked up. He snapped to attention, standing up straight with his hands clasped casually behind his back. A hearty, blindingly bright smile stretched across his face. “Oh? What is it? If it’s a question I know the answer to, I’ll gladly tell you!”

Da Vinci straightened her posture, the calculating gleam in her eyes intensifying. She cleared her throat dramatically and slowly delivered her inquiry. “I sincerely hope you can explain the exact relationship between the two of you and your Master.”

“If my speculation is correct… have you both been assigned specific character roles by her?”

Arjuna looked at the genius caster, a distinct flash of approval warming his gaze. He offered a slow, measured nod. “…Quite sharp.”

Arash, however, tilted his head to the side, pressing a finger against his chin. He looked over at Arjuna, his face twisting into a mask of total confusion. “Wait, what was your assigned role again? It was some weird, specific term… like Tsundere, or S-something!”

Mash blinked rapidly, tilting her head in utter bewilderment. “Tsun… and S…?” she muttered softly, her fingers unconsciously tracing the letters in the air.

Back in the control room, Dr. Roman, who had been slouching behind his console, suddenly bolted upright. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, and the ceramic coffee mug in his hand nearly slipped from his grasp. “A specific term…” he murmured in absolute shock. “Could it be…”

On the screen, Arjuna took a long, deep breath. His eyes turned deadly serious, carrying the heavy gravity of a king about to announce a royal decree. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, his tone utterly solemn.

“I will only say this once. I am—”

“Although very Do-S, I am a Science-track Senpai who gets a bit ‘dere’ at the most critical moments.”