The ritualist's pupils contracted when he realized Gabriel was already standing in front of him.
"Who told you that you could touch my stuff?"
"Your stuff?"
The ritualist froze for half a heartbeat. The Church's contamination mediums lay beneath his hand, and Gabriel spoke as though he had come to reclaim them.
The red-haired youth had no intention of explaining.
Crimson Judgement swept upward and knocked the longsword out of the man's hand. Gabriel immediately reversed his grip and smashed the greatsword's hilt into the ritualist's jaw.
The man's feet left the ground. Before he could fall, Gabriel turned with the motion and drove Crimson Judgement across his body.
The ritualist smashed through a broken stone pillar and struck the ground beyond it, dead among the rubble.
Gabriel seized the third nail. Gray-black energy crawled higher along his forearm while the withered root held fast. He set his feet against the stone, tightened his grip, and forced it loose.
