Chapter 361: The King’s Emissary

**Thelma Zane's POV** Like all ancient myths and legends, the ancestors of any race often had experiences that defied the ordinary. The elven ancestors were no exception. The elves, a race known for their reverence of nature, believed that their progenitor was born from a flower blooming in the desolate winter desert. Upon his birth, the barren wasteland transformed into a lush, vibrant forest with a temperate climate. That forest became the foundation of the vast Elf Forest. This miraculous flower was said to have sprung from the sacred Mother Tree of Nature, the lifeblood of the elven race. To them, the Mother Tree was not just a symbol of their heritage but a divine entity. Its theft was as unthinkable as the destruction of monumental treasures like the Louvre or the Taj Mahal—an act of immense sacrilege that shattered their pride and dignity. However, for us werewolves, the implications of this theft were far more sinister. The Mother Tree of Nature was not just a relic