The main body of the shattered black giant was still underwater, but it no longer seemed capable of sustaining a fight.
York Bronte had also absorbed too much Life Force. Though he still mostly retained a human shape, his head had turned pale and swollen, wing-like structures had grown from his back, his arms had atrophied, and his legs had become abnormally thick. He was gradually losing his human form.
There were now four eyes on his grotesquely enlarged face. When he raised his head to look at the two people in the air, he bared his sharp canine teeth and burst into laughter. Both Shade and Miss Danist could hear his voice:
"I already know what powers you possess. We'll meet again in sixty-seven years! Then, I'll show you my power."
White Fog from the Gap of Time seeped out and enveloped his body. He was trying to return to 1787 of Fated Death to escape what came next. Even though he had lost the coffin that served as the Tree Hollow, at least returning to 1787 gave him some hope of survival.
But from Shade's perspective, it seemed as though Destiny itself was drawing him back to die.
There was no proof, but the Outlander had a powerful premonition: if York Bronte were allowed to return to 1787 of his own accord this time, he would never be able to leave that time again, nor would he ever cross those sixty-seven years to return to this battlefield.
But allowing him to meet "death" so easily still seemed far too merciful. Shade was not the only one who thought so. Many more felt the same way.
As Shade and Miss Danist each hurled a wooden stake at him, densely packed spectral hands suddenly reached up from beneath the water