BOOM.
A blast of violet light shattered the square. A radiant wall of Solena erupted between the civilians and death—impenetrable, divine.
Bolts cracked and flames scattered. Blades disintegrated.
Every attack was hurled back with an overwhelming force. APC soldiers were flung through the air. The howls of stalkers were like cannonfire. Dust and debris clouded the plaza.
And then—
A figure stood in the light—white coat, scarf trailing, silhouette sharp against the glow.
Eyes glowing violet—piercing, alive. He didn't speak; didn't need to.
The entire square fell still. Civilians stood quiet. The disbelief and awe widespread on their faces.
Tona stepped forward—
Once. Then again. Each step echoing like judgment.
Chaze's hand trembled.
Tona tilted his head and cracked his neck. Finally, he spoke. "I'm Tona Norasachi."
His voice calm, smooth—like this was nothing new.
"The one you're looking for… would be me."
Chaze's eyes widened. A flicker of something rare from the Butcher of Igumi: fear.
Tona's expression remained neutral, but his eyes were filled with the fire of determination. "The audacity..."
A pulse of Solena thundered behind him. "To walk into Memento's home and threaten our people."
Gasps spread through the crowd.
That grin—confident, effortless.
The same one hidden behind the mask on every wanted poster in Alden.
Chaze stuttered with his next words. "YOU?! You're the Ghost?! That's impossible. You're just a—"
Tona, smirking, cracking his knuckles, said,
"Careful, Chaze. Your voice is shaking."
He raised his hand.
A wave of violet Solena pulsed outward. The ground cracks beneath him. The very air shifts, warping with raw force. His purple eyes glowed, mesmerizing and unshaken.
He disappeared in a flash, and for a moment, Chaze was shocked. Tona's presence was now directly behind him.
"Chaze… Don't tell me you're surprised."
Tona grabbed Chaze's arm. He whipped him backwards, releasing the girl in the process. Chaze snarled as he landed on a knee.
Tona grabbed the girl and opened a gate. The other side revealed the yard where Memento forces were cornered, still watching in awe. Tona and the girl stepped through.
"Someone take her back to her family. I've got a date with a blood-lusted creep."
He dashed forward again. In a blink, he was gone.
Tona slammed into a frontline stalker with a palm to the chest—sending the man through a stone pillar.
"Second Gate of Alden," he said, his Solena flaring as the reflective shield formed.
He moved before the battlefield could even register him. Tona spun on his heel, sweeping his arm out with a calm precision that bordered on elegance. A second shield flared to life—smaller this time, forming over his forearm like molten glass cooling into steel. The heat of a fire blast slammed into it point-blank, lighting his silhouette in a searing white flash. But the shield did not break—it drank the flame, swallowed it whole.
Tona flicked his wrist.
The energy snapped back in a violent pulse. A bloom of fire tore through the APC elite who launched the attack—exploding him into a twisting pillar of flame and smoke. Embers drifted in the air like dying stars.
Across the rubble, Chaze staggered a step back, blood slick on his lips, eyes narrowing as if trying to force the moment to make sense.
"He's fast…" he breathed.
Around them, the frontlines trembled. Tsuki watched with mix emotions—not anger or fear, but she had been caught completely off-guard.
Memento soldiers whispered, the words traveling from mouth to mouth like the passing of a long-believed myth made real.
"He's… he's the Ghost…"
Tona's movements didn't match the brutality unfolding. They were too fluid—too graceful. Like dance.
His white coat swept like paint strokes across the chaos, bright against smoke and flame. The battlefield seemed to bend around him, caught in the wake of something inevitable.
His voice was calm, unshaken, cutting through the noise.
"Hatori," he said, not even glancing over his shoulder, "back me up if I stall."
Hatori let out a short, crooked grin, cracking his knuckles.
"Heh. Like you'd ever stall."
Tona shot into the air, shoes scraping sparks as he kicked off a falling stalker's chest. He flipped backward over the fray, twisting through smoke and blood-mist before driving downwards. He landed in a low crouch, the ground beneath him splintering outward in an explosive shockwave.
In the same breath, he launched upward with a Solena-charged uppercut—three Stalkers were lifted like ragdolls, spinning through the air before crashing into shattered stone.
Somewhere behind him—a crossbow string drew tight. Pointed at Tsuki in her daydreaming. Tona noticed and vanished in a blur.
He reappeared beside the soldier, one hand lazily closing around the crossbow before the man even inhaled his next breath.
"You aiming at her?" Tona asked, tone almost bored. "Cute."
He snapped the weapon clean in half—wood and metal crumpling like paper—and hurled the man into the ground with a casual shoulder toss that broke the earth on impact.
But then the air changed. Four stalkers rushed him in a synchronized frenzy.
Tona's posture shifted—barely a movement, but it carried the quiet weight of someone who understood exactly how dangerous the next seconds would be.
His feet slid into a stance that was perfect—absolute. "Ballsy," he murmured.
He ducked under an ice spike and sent a Solena blast into the user's chest. He instantly followed this by pivoting behind the lightning user, who had tried a quiet thrust. Tona grabbed him by the arm and hurled him into the wind user's vortex. A burst of air exploded outward. He stepped on the rebound and axe kicked the sound caster into the stone floor—snapping it beneath her body.
The tide of battle shifted.
As Tona stood amidst the dying embers, Memento forces surged back to life—shouts rising, blades lifting, morale reignited. Civilians peeked from behind shattered walls, no longer cowering in fear of the Ghost, but staring in stunned awe.
Chaze stepped forward, boots grinding against scorched stone, his expression twisted with fury.
"You little shit… you think power makes you righteous?"
Tona walked toward him without hurry, each step controlled.
"No," he answered, voice steady. "But it sure makes this part easier."
The smile on his face dimmed—just slightly—revealing the fury burning beneath.
"You threatened a child. You forced Maro to call surrender. You think you're untouchable just because you bleed power?"
He stopped only feet from Chaze, violet light rising in his eyes. Wind tugged at his hair and coat, the white scarf trailing like a ghost's whisper. He towered over Chaze, looking down—almost peering into his very soul. And then—he smiled, the kind of smile that didn't soften a thing, only sharpened everything around it.
"I've seen the files, Butcher of Igumi. King of the Stalker Corps." His voice dropped into quiet finality. "Your feats don't mean shit to me."
Chaze glared, the hatred in his eyes near feral.
"Tona Norasachi," he hissed, savoring the name like poison. "I can't wait to absorb that blood of yours. Someday." His jaw clenched hard, muscles twitching. "But not today. We retreat. We got what we wanted."
He flicked his hand, and APC forces began withdrawing toward the portal behind him—disciplined and precise.
"Cowards!" Maro roared.
Chaze looked back once, a cruel grin curling across his face. "Your time is coming… old man."
He vanished into a pool of blood, before reappearing in front of the portal. He stepped in, his long black hair the last thing to vanish before the gate snapped shut, leaving only scorched ground and drifting ash in its wake.