Fate Grand Order: Broadcasting Master Love — Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Reactions of Fate Zero and Fate stay night

Fourth Holy Grail War – Fuyuki City

Inside the dark, damp confines of a subterranean magus workshop, dim yellow candlelight flickered against the drafts. The uneven illumination cast mottled, grotesque shadows across the cold stone walls. The heavy air carried the suffocating stench of dried blood mixed with the ozone tang of ancient magical materials. Various metal applies lay haphazardly across a stained workbench, while the remnants of uncleansed ritual patterns still clung to the dark corners of the room.

Gilles de Rais staggered backward. His shoulder slammed against the freezing stone wall, barely keeping him upright. His bulging eyes, usually clouded with a chaotic, murderous madness, now shone with a startling, almost blinding brilliance. A pious ecstasy churned within his gaze.

His breathing grew so erratic that his chest heaved violently under his robes. He lunged forward, slamming his hands against the edge of the wooden table. His knuckles turned bone-white from the sheer force of his grip. When he opened his mouth, his voice cracked into an uncontrollable, trembling roar.

“Ohhh! Jeanne! My beautiful, holy, soul-shaking Holy Maiden!”

He clenched his fists, his long fingers turning pale. His entire lanky frame shook with violent excitement. A physiological redness flooded the corners of his wide eyes as he began to murmur incoherently, his tone dripping with an obsessed, breathy reverence.

“To think I could see you in such a state… so pure… so incredibly lovely!”

His gaze remained glued to the mysterious light screen suspended in mid-air. He refused to even blink, terrified he might miss a single second. His mouth stretched upward, splitting his face into a wide, manic, yet utterly devout grin.

“That slight frown of hesitation! The way your delicate fingertips curl when you hesitate to speak! Those blushing ears, that shy, downcast gaze… every single part of it is damnably moving!”

He abruptly ripped his hands from the table and pressed them hard against his chest. His spine bent backward in a grotesque arc of religious piety. Choked sobs of ecstasy tore from his throat, praising the heavens as if he were weeping blood.

“Ohhh! Thank you! My Lord! Thank you for allowing me to witness such a divine sight!”

A few paces away, Uryu Ryunosuke stood with one hand casually shoved into his pocket. He glanced sideways at the manic Bluebeard, his face completely devoid of expression. He gave a lazy shrug. A distinct hint of impatience and cold apathy flickered in his dark eyes.

He paid absolutely no mind to Gilles’s fanatical roaring. After a brief, disinterested glance at the glowing screen, Ryunosuke looked away. His fingertips unconsciously tapped against his thigh. His mind was already drifting elsewhere, calculating exactly what kind of fresh materials he needed to find next. He needed to push his art to its absolute limit, to make that most vivid, visceral crimson bloom in its most terrifyingly beautiful form right between his hands.

Miles away, inside the grand hall of a sprawling European-style mansion, warm ambient light spilled across the polished floorboards through carefully carved window lattices. The glow made the luxurious antique furnishings appear even more exquisite.

Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri had completely abandoned her usual dignified, aristocratic composure. She leaned far forward in her plush armchair, her hands clasped tightly under her chin. A deep, noticeable blush painted her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with absolute obsession.

Her voice, normally so measured and elegant, pitched upward with irrepressible excitement. She let out a choked, high-pitched squeal of delight.

“Oh my… what kind of divine sight is this? Jeanne is just too cute!”

She stared unblinkingly at the figure projected on the light screen. A massive grin broke across her face, her tone dripping with total intoxication.

“A lethal reaper who is invincible on the battlefield, a witch who strikes absolute terror into the hearts of her enemies… yet on a date, she turns into such a charming, bashful maiden in love. This sheer contrast hits me right in the heart. I love it so much!”

Standing rigidly beside her, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald looked down at his fiancée. Dressed in his crisp, immaculate magus robes, he maintained his tall, imposing posture. However, his habitually arrogant face was now painted with deep helplessness. A deep furrow formed between his brows.

He watched the woman who had completely lost her aristocratic poise. A complicated mix of indulgence, exasperation, and subtle embarrassment washed over him. He cleared his throat and called out softly.

“…Sola. Please mind your manners.”

Sola-Ui simply waved her hand through the air, dismissing him entirely. Her gaze never shifted from the broadcast for a single second. Her previously joyful expression now carried a fleeting hint of disdain at being interrupted.

Realizing it was a lost cause, Kayneth closed his mouth and stopped trying to manage her. He turned his attention back to the anomaly.

‘This light screen that appeared out of nowhere is far too exaggerated,’he thought, his eyes narrowing.’It can actually manifest that Servant’s innermost thoughts exactly as they are, broadcasting them to the world and leaving not even a shred of her bashfulness hidden. What kind of terrifying magecraft is this?’

Elsewhere, in a quiet, narrow alleyway deep within Fuyuki City, heavy shadows blocked out the distant noise of traffic. Waver Velvet huddled near the base of a cool brick wall. His cold fingertips instinctively clutched the heavy magical tome he carried against his chest. He stared up at the glowing screen hanging in the night sky, his jaw hanging open in shock.

Disbelief washed over his youthful face. He swallowed hard and whispered into the empty alley.

“Whoa… that black Holy Maiden surrounded by hellfire… can she really express her love for her Master so directly in her heart? Even if they are just internal thoughts and not spoken aloud, it is still completely incredible.”

He straightened his back, pulling himself away from the damp wall. His eyes softened with emotion as his thumb unconsciously brushed the worn edges of his book’s pages.

“It really is hard to imagine. She started as a dragon witch who knew absolutely nothing but hatred and revenge. Her entire existence was steeped in pure malice.”

He watched the tsundere Servant blush on the screen.

“Now, she has become a normal maiden in love, filled with genuine joy at the thought of a simple date, trying so hard to hide her bashfulness. A person’s state of mind and physical appearance can actually undergo such earth-shaking changes.”

[Lord El-Melloi II: You will understand later.]

Fifth Holy Grail War – Fuyuki City

The Einzbern castle, hidden deep within the freezing outskirts of Fuyuki, stood entirely snow-white. Its towering spires gleamed with a cold, pristine luster under the pale daylight.

Inside the grand castle hall, right in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, Illyasviel von Einzbern sat comfortably. Wearing an exquisite, heavy white winter dress, the tiny homunculus was perched firmly upon Heracles’s broad, mountainous shoulders. Her bright, sapphire-like eyes were blown wide open, staring intently at the magical broadcast suspended outside the glass.

Her small, delicate face lit up with pure joy. She leaned forward, gently patting the massive Berserker’s thick neck. Her voice rang out, soft and high-pitched.

“Wow, Berserker, look! This Jeanne d’Arc Alter is just too cute! Her sweet and soft appearance right now is absolutely nothing like the terrifying witch they described on the screen before.”

Heracles shifted his immense weight. He lowered his glowing eyes slightly to look at the little princess sitting on his shoulder. Illya was smiling so brightly her eyes had curved into happy little crescent moons. The giant stood steady as a mountain, letting out a low, incredibly gentle rumble from deep within his chest.

His rough, boulder-like palm rose slowly. With surprising delicacy, he gently patted the top of Illya’s silver hair, as if affirming her words. The mindless, destructive violence unique to the Berserker class vanished entirely, replaced by a silent, overwhelming tenderness whenever he faced her.

Far away from the snowy mountains, in a quiet corner of the Matou residence’s courtyard, the lush greenery held a lingering, damp chill. Matou Sakura stood completely still beneath a sprawling wisteria trellis.

Pale purple petals drifted down from the vines, landing softly in her dark hair and resting upon her shoulders. She wore a plain-colored kimono, the muted fabric making her appear even more fragile and timid against the vibrant garden.

She lowered her long eyelashes, her hollow gaze fixing upon the glowing screen above the walls. A sudden, sharp hint of envy pierced through her usual emptiness. Delicate tenderness flickered in her eyes, and a faint, wistful smile touched her lips.

When she spoke, her voice was as soft as the wind carrying the falling petals, a quiet murmur filled with a desperate, unreachable longing.

“A date… how nice. Walking side-by-side with someone important, with eyes only for each other.” She hugged her arms loosely around her waist. “I think I can understand a little bit of that Miss Jeanne’s nervousness and joy.”

Her quiet words hid a trace of deep yearning. The sentiment drifted away with the falling wisteria petals, tinged with a faint, almost impossible hope for a normal life.

High above the city, in front of the mountain gate of Ryudou Temple, a gentle breeze swept across the stone steps. The surrounding ancient trees rustled softly, their leaves whispering in the wind, making the sacred grounds feel even more serene and isolated from the chaos below.

The phantom swordsman known by the name Sasaki Kojiro leaned casually against a massive tree trunk near the gate. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, his long nodachi resting nearby. His plain purple robes fluttered gently in the mountain wind.

His handsome, habitually indifferent face was now graced with a rare touch of genuine softness. His narrow eyes half-closed as he watched the shimmering light screen hovering in the distant sky.

A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. He let out a soft sigh, his tone carrying a mixture of quiet relief and a touch of nostalgic envy.

“How wonderful. Such a passionate, pure, and youthful love.”

As his words faded, the mountain wind blew once more. It carried the fresh, earthy scent of greenery, scattering his faint sentiment into the endless sky. Only his solitary figure remained, leisurely guarding the temple gate, though his phantom heart now carried just a bit more of a human touch.