The Mahathera turned his eyes from the mural to Ning Tian and took off the mask.
"How can you do this?"
Ning Tian saw the Mahathera's face, which was no longer a face. It was bloody, except for his eyes, mouth, and nose.
The Mahathera of the Elves put on the mask again and said slowly, "The reason why I can live to this day is that the Elf King has given me the last power of his life and his source of soul and that our Elves have a long life span, so I have survived to this day and I cannot leave here."
"Then what is your face? And what happened to you elves?"
Ning Tian continued.
The Mahathera's green eyes began to become a little confused and said, "My face was bruised by a direct punch in the middle of the war. our ancient holy tree had saved my life, otherwise, I would have died."
The Mahathera said, touching the roots on the wall as if remembering something.
"Then why on earth did this happen to you elves?"