Because everything she had been up to this point was far too ugly, filthy, and worthless.
Offering something like that to a god would do nothing but dirty the god's eyes. It could not possibly be of any use to the god who had helped her.
The moment she thought of how she had received such immense grace, and even gained Qianyi's acknowledgment, yet could do nothing in return—not even qualifying to become Qianyi's follower or believer—she felt an unprecedented contempt for her own life.
In the end, the pitiful little "mandarin" simply buried her head deep between her knees, wrapped her arms tightly around her calves, and sat beside Qianyi without thinking anymore.
"What's with you?" Qianyi stared blankly at Haruri, who had curled herself into a ball with her knees hugged to her chest, her entire body seemingly radiating a visible aura of gloom and inferiority that seeped into the surrounding air.
No, sis, why were you suddenly shutting yourself off when everything had been fine?
Were you some Fate-version alternate Xi melon?!
According to the normal plot, shouldn't you have burst into hearty laughter after avenging your great grievance, then launched into a "The Holy Grail has come to Snowfield City; only today do I know who I truly am" moment? Then you would completely sever your ties to the past and, with a brand-new, fearless bearing, begin a new chapter of your own, wouldn't you?!
Why were you suddenly giving off this depressed aura of "I'm unworthy," "I'm too dirty," and "My existence is a waste of air"?!
Qianyi felt his head swelling. Why had another God-kin shown up?
No, this was no longer just another one.
It was another, another, another, and another one.
Just a few days earlier, he had encountered a heavyweight contender