Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Asura’s Field

New Chaldea, Control Room.

Fujimaru Ritsuka leaned against the main console, his gaze fixed on the light screen. Up there, a younger version of himself smiled warmly. A gentle, unconscious curve graced his own lips. Stretching his arms overhead, he let out a wistful sigh. “That was truly my youth. It feels like a lifetime ago…”

Beside him, Mash Kyrielight’s eyes softened. A faint, nostalgic smile bloomed across her features, her gaze interwoven with fond reminiscence and quiet warmth.

However, the atmosphere in the rest of the Control Room was rapidly deteriorating. The other female Servants were radiating an entirely different kind of energy.

Kama stood with her arms tightly crossed beneath her chest. Her delicate brows were pinched into a deep scowl, her cherry lips pursed into a thin line of absolute displeasure. A visible aura of dark resentment practically oozed from her petite frame. Gritting her teeth, she hissed under her breath, “Master… indulging in such a sickeningly sweet date. How utterly degenerate…” Then, her tone abruptly shifted. A dangerous, obsessive gleam flashed in her starry eyes, and her voice spiked in pitch. “If Master is going to degenerate, he should be degenerating with me!!”

In the corner, Ereshkigal huddled defensively on a plush sofa, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the fabric of her skirt. A fierce blush painted her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. Her dazzling blonde twintails swayed erratically as she shifted, her crimson eyes swirling with a chaotic mix of intense envy and crippling shyness. “A-awawa!” she stammered, her voice dropping to a frantic, mosquito-like buzz. “Master actually brought up dating Mash so casually!?”

She bit her lip. “Eh… I-I want to go on a date too, but if I had to be the one to ask Master out…” She cut herself off, suddenly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head in total frustration, sending her golden hair flying in every direction. “I definitely can’t do it!”

Meltryllis leaned casually against the metallic door frame, her hands neatly tucked into the wide, flowing sleeves of her dress. Only the slight, rhythmic twitch of her cuffs betrayed her mood. Tilting her head, a playful yet razor-sharp smile surfaced in her striking eyes. A delicate tongue darted out to wet the corner of her lip. When she spoke, her drawn-out, syrupy tone carried the distinct edge of lazy danger. “Ara, Master seems to be getting a little carried away…”

Before the final syllable even faded, the temperature around her plummeted. Her gaze turned glacial, the air itself seeming to freeze over. Her voice shattered the silence like jagged shards of ice. “…Unpleasant. Truly unpleasant. I really want to melt Master down into a puddle.”

Meanwhile, other heavy-hitters like the Rain God and the fae queen Morgan remained dead silent. Their expressions were unreadable, but the dangerous glints in their eyes made it clear they were already calculating their next moves.

Feeling the sudden, oppressive chill creeping up his spine, Ritsuka swallowed hard. This isn’t good, he realized, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. I was so caught up in reminiscing about my youth that I completely forgot I was standing in a room full of them…

【On the light screen, the shifting light and shadow mercifully broke the tension. The previously warm, romantic atmosphere shattered completely as a tall, slender figure materialized before the audience of Chaldea. He was draped in a dark purple robe embroidered with complex, esoteric patterns. A faint, deeply unsettling aura clung to his frame.】

【A line of cold, clinical text flashed across the broadcast, accompanied by a low, somber narration: “Gilles de Rais, formerly a Marshal of France who fought alongside Jeanne d’Arc. Originally a devout believer, he plunged into absolute despair after Jeanne d’Arc was executed as a heretic, entirely losing his faith in God. His subsequent brutal atrocities were merely a twisted means to prove that God—who ought to punish such evil deeds—did not exist. He serves as the prototype for the later fairy tale, Bluebeard.”】

【A line of pale blue text subsequently faded into view—The ML Radar shows: Not ML. This persistent man, who praised God excessively only to doubt Him, and then cursed and belittled Him, ultimately faced no divine retribution and marched straight toward ruin. Only a Master who can show genuine understanding of his passion and deep loss can perfectly use him as a Servant.】

【As the solemn narration concluded, the figure slowly raised his head, revealing a pale, gaunt face. Yet, he displayed none of the legendary brutality or sheer madness expected of the child-murdering monster. Instead, he dramatically folded his wide sleeves. His face was twisted into a mask of deep resentment and pathetic grievance. Raising a trembling hand, he wiped away a non-existent tear, his tone impossibly mournful, as if he had suffered the greatest injustice in human history.】

【”I am Gilles de Rais!” he wailed. “The poor father who was beloved in his child’s youth, only to be utterly despised the moment his daughter hit her rebellious middle school phase, leading him into heartbreaking despair!”】

【He paused, his shoulders slumping heavily as if crushed by the weight of an unbearable memory. When he spoke again, a pathetic sob hitched in his throat. “And I am Gilles de Rais, who was waved away in disgust and told, ‘Dad, your old man smell is really bad,’ right before being kicked out of the house!”】

The Fourth Holy Grail War timeline, Fuyuki City.

Inside the grand halls of the Einzbern Castle, the air abruptly froze.

Emiya Kiritsugu’s fingers, which had been loosely holding a lit cigarette, went entirely rigid. The burning stick slipped straight through his grasp, tumbling to the polished marble floor and scattering a spray of tiny orange sparks. He stared blankly at the pathetic, mourning figure on the light screen, his dark, deadpan eyes blown wide with sheer disbelief.

After a long, suffocating silence, Kiritsugu managed to squeeze out a raspy whisper. “…Unbelievable. That Caster, the notorious ‘Friend of Children,’ has become something so… comical.”

Saber, who had personally witnessed Gilles de Rais’s monstrous, stomach-churning atrocities firsthand, sat rigidly upright on the plush sofa. Her sharp black suit usually amplified her stoic posture, but right now, her hands were white-knuckled against her knees. Her emerald eyes trembled with shock and absolute confusion.

Unable to take it anymore, Saber abruptly shot to her feet. “H-how can this be…!” she blurted out.

The wicked Caster in her memories was a cruel, bloodthirsty demon who treated human life as less than dirt. How could that monster possibly look like a pathetic, aging father weeping over a rebellious daughter? The sheer, absurd contrast left the King of Knights entirely speechless.

Beside her, Irisviel von Einzbern slapped both hands over her mouth, her beautiful crimson eyes wide with shock. She gasped, “Eh?! Is that really Caster? Why does he actually look like a sad dad abandoned by his teenage daughter?”

Like Kiritsugu and Saber, she was so thoroughly stunned by the ridiculous premise that she completely forgot the figure on the screen was merely a Counterfeit Servant with altered parameters.

Yet… if the genuine Gilles de Rais were summoned, he might behave exactly like that Counterfeit Gilles de Rais the moment he stood in front of Jeanne d’Arc Alter…

Meanwhile, deep within a certain bloody Magecraft Workshop permeated with the sickening stench of rust and rot.

The mottled dark red stains coating the concrete walls had long since dried. The heavy air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the subtle, thrumming glow of active Magic Circuits. Broken, grotesque magical artifacts lay piled haphazardly in the shadows. The dim, erratic candlelight flickered, stretching the silhouettes of two figures into long, thin distortions against the floor.

Gilles de Rais stood perfectly still. His messy, oily hair hung unbound around his face, and his dark purple robe was stained with suspicious dark spots. His bulging, bloodshot eyes were locked blankly onto the glowing light screen suspended in mid-air.

When he watched his Counterfeit self weeping over being despised by his “daughter,” a sudden, moist glint appeared in his previously hollow gaze. The corners of his pale mouth twitched, involuntarily lifting into a fragile, almost pathetic expression of sheer envy.

Slowly, he reached out a trembling hand. His long, pale fingertips gently brushed against the phantom image projected by the screen. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, grating like coarse sandpaper against stone. “That Counterfeit me… he actually got the chance to be Jeanne d’Arc’s father… and be despised by her…”

Before the final word even left his lips, Gilles violently clenched his outstretched hand into a fist. His knuckles turned bone-white from the crushing force. His entire body began to violently tremble, completely overwhelmed by a fierce, surging tidal wave of emotion.

Suddenly, he threw his head back. Thick veins bulged against his pale neck as he screamed the rest of his sentence in a frenzied, ear-piercing roar. The sheer volume of his hoarse voice made the surrounding candles flicker violently.

“That is truly… ENVIABLE!!!”

Standing just a few paces away, Uryuu Ryuunosuke tilted his head, casually resting his chin in the palm of his hand. His youthful face was lit up with novel surprise. He stared at the “Bluebeard” on the broadcast—an image that completely shattered his understanding of his cool, murderous demonic idol—and raised an amused eyebrow, lightly tapping his cheek with a fingertip.

Wow, Ryuunosuke mused silently. Even though he knew the guy on the screen was just a Counterfeit, seeing someone wearing his awesome Old Man Bluebeard’s face and spouting such pitiful, aggrieved nonsense was genuinely a trip.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, imagining just how absurdly hilarious it would be if the real, blood-soaked Gilles de Rais standing right in front of him suddenly adopted that exact same pathetic expression.