Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Mortal Realm, heavy snow envelops the sky.

In February, the ground remained covered with frost.

The rotation of the twelve Zodiac star domains had just reached the center of the twelfth Zodiac plane, and if it were in the distant future, it might have another more pleasant name—Pisces.

Of course, whether it would still receive the same name in this lifetime was difficult to guess. At least for now, it was merely an ordinary star domain.

The cold wind howled as always, and it was said that "extremes meet," a truth universally acknowledged. But often, only true sages can see through the mist to glimpse the so-called "extreme."

At this moment, there was undoubtedly no such existence in the Mortal Realm, for they could not penetrate the veil of the natural changes reflecting the struggle between the gods. Thus, bloodshed and strife intensified, many grudges were formed, and numerous cities were destroyed.

The losers lost their lives or died quietly in the cold and hunger. The winners weren’t happy either, because as long as the catastrophe continued, they had to keep on ’winning.’

Thus, resentment began to accumulate, and curses on the disaster started to spread... When facing a crisis, people always need an outlet for their emotions, and conveniently, they had a target to vent their frustrations.

It was certainly not the Goddess of Agriculture; after all, in the eyes of humans, Demeter was the only deity willing to help them firsthand. In human history, there was already a pivotal existence who brought disaster to the Mortal Realm and ended an epoch of mankind.

She was Pandora, an ominous woman. The meaning of her name was originally "the woman gifted with all talents," but now, it is more often understood as "the root of all disasters."

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In the north of the continent, on a path outside a nameless valley.

A few crows circled in the sky, emitting harsh cries. The leafless trees shivered in the wind as if about to collapse at any moment.

With a soft hat on his head and a bloodstained wooden staff in hand, a young man walked ahead under the drifting snow, followed closely by a stunningly beautiful woman.

The cold wind entering the valley created a unique echo, accompanying the slow steps of the two. They seemed to have traveled far, yet no hint of fatigue showed on their faces.

"Are you still thinking about those people we encountered before?"

The staff thudded into the ground. For Epimetheus, he didn’t need it to ensure the path under the snow was smooth, but he used it as if he did.

Along the way, he had grown accustomed to posing as a mortal, which saved him a lot of trouble.

"I just don’t understand... why they looked at me with such eyes."

Following behind, Pandora’s somewhat pale face was as beautiful as ever. It was a pity that in the Northern Lands swept by the chill wind, no one could appreciate her charming demeanor.

"I haven’t done anything; this natural disaster is unrelated to me, but why..."

Her voice grew quieter and nearly imperceptible as Pandora seemed to recall that day.

When she saw her subordinates killed effortlessly by Epimetheus, the young guard captain did not show a hint of fear. He still charged at the being before him and was then pinned to the ground by the man’s staff.

But until the last moment of his life, he looked at Pandora with eyes full of hate.

They called her "witch," implying a woman with extraordinary power like demonic monsters who would bring disaster to humans. But Pandora was very clear that, aside from the blessings of the gods on her body which she could not activate on her own, she was just an ordinary human, even unable to defeat that exceptionally skilled young man.

If someone like her could bring about this world-engulfing blizzard, it would indeed sound like a joke.

"Why deceive yourself... you know very well why."

"Although you were deliberately bestowed with abundant curiosity, it doesn’t mean you’re really that stupid—you are different from the gods."

With a faint smile, Epimetheus didn’t seem to be referring to anyone in particular.

"After all, if a god is foolish now, it is quite likely they have been and will always be. Few among them can learn from experience, no matter how much time passes, they seem to remain unchanged."

"But you are human; you were not born with godhood, and consequently, are not swayed by it. You are also unlike other mortals who only have a few decades of life. Therefore, you don’t need to adopt such a posture—the changes in you along this journey, I’ve seen them all."

There was no response, but following behind the man, Pandora’s expression calmed.

Indeed, as he had just said. Perhaps at the very beginning, when she first opened the Magic Jar, she did feel sorrow and despair about the hatred and misunderstanding of mankind, but not anymore.

A simple reason: lengthy time can smooth over everything. What is brief to the gods is already enough for her. Compared to the misunderstandings of humanity, what she truly dwells on is the fearless bravery of that captain who did not fear death.

He possessed a courage that most gods and humans do not have... And then, he died so easily before her eyes.

"Actually, compared to that, I am rather curious—why did you reveal your name for what reason?"

Unaware of what the woman behind him was thinking, Epimetheus casually asked: