```
"If that's what you think it is, the guidance of fate... after all, I can't defy you, can I?"
She spoke indifferently, without any further reaction, and Pandora gently closed her eyes.
Unlike Epimetheus, she had no interest in watching this so-called debate, for with the passing years, the faith that lingered around her yet remained unabsorbed had only increased.
Even without direct contact, but with the accumulation of numbers, the countless pleas, curses, hatred, and fear continually tormented her.
Whenever a calamity or disease struck the Mortal Realm, she was invoked by humans as the embodiment of disaster. Even if her received faith for an individual catastrophe didn't match that dedicated to the governing deity, the total was overwhelming.
In such circumstances, even though the blessings of all gods had never been withdrawn, Pandora still felt pain and weariness from the depths of her spirit.
For a moment, she felt a pang of regret.
