Novel Full Chapter 358 The Past
Chapter 358: Chapter 358 The Past
Still, Sira didn’t stop.
Even as she grew—she never stopped searching.
The moment her small stall turned a steady profit, she put aside a portion—not for clothes, not for food, not for herself—but for him.
For Uga.
She didn’t know if he was still alive. Didn’t know if he’d stayed in the forest.
But she had made a promise, the kind made not with words but with tears. And she would keep it.
Not just for her brother. For her sake as well.
The day Sira could finally afford to hire help, she did.
Hunters, guides, mercenaries, even shady trackers who claimed they knew the southern hills better than the deer that roamed it—anyone who might know the forests near Darun.
And she sent them out.
She went with the ones she could.
At least four times every year, without fail, a team was hired.
A week’s search at a time.
At first, she focused only on the area she remembered.
The place where she last saw his wide-eyed face, where she whispered, “Don’t move.”
When nothing came of it, she expanded the search. Slowly. Year by year.
Every time they returned with no trace, Sira added new notes to her maps. Marked down where they searched, who had gone, what they saw.
By the fifth year, she had a full room in her modest home dedicated to nothing but these maps. Her shop assistants called it “the forest room.” She called it “his room.”
Because it was for him.
She once spent nearly half her yearly earnings on a team of six elite scouts from the guild just to comb the forest for one week during the rainy season. They said it was madness. That no child could have survived that long. That even if he had, he’d be unrecognizable.
A child couldn’t have survived in the forest for that long.
It wasn’t possible, they said.
She didn’t care.
Because Sira believed that one day… maybe she’d be lucky. Maybe the forest would give him back.
And so she continued. Year after year. Season after season.
Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.
Every coin earned from the business? A part of it always went into that search.
Even when her store grew—when she began importing goods, when noblewomen started frequenting her—she still never missed a single search cycle.
The world called her the “Iron Sister.”
They thought it was because of how she ran her business.
But the truth?
It was because she never let go.
Never forgot.
And never stopped looking for the little boy who once said, “I’m not scared… not when Big Sis is here.”
Until, at last—after over a decade of silence—the forest answered.
And it gave Uga back.
On one ordinary day, in the middle of a dull expedition—everything changed.
She and her team were tracking for traces as usual when it ambushed them. Half her squad was scattered in moments. She ran. They ran.
And then
A shadow fell.
And with it, a fist.
A monster died.
And standing there—barefoot, filthy, wild-eyed—was him.
Not a child.
Not the boy she remembered.
But the man her brother had become.
She stepped forward slowly. Her teammates shouted behind her. She ignored them.
And then…
“Big… sister?”
The voice was hoarse. Like bark cracking. Like forgotten memory brushing against the present.
Her breath caught.
He looked at her like he was seeing a dream.
And then she ran.
Into his arms.
Into the warmth she thought she’d lost forever.
And there, in that quiet moment, as the forest sighed around them—
She cried.
And he didn’t understand why.
But he held her all the same.
That was Sira.
The sister who never gave up.
Fourteen years passed.
Fourteen long, bitter years.
She grew from a scrappy child to a capable woman—one who walked through fire without blinking. Men in noble cloaks who thought her pretty face made her weak. She survived them all.
But she never forgot the boy under the tree.
Never forgot his wide eyes and messy hair. His oversized hands and unstoppable arms.
Never forgot Uga.
And that was Uga.
The brother who waited long enough for her to return.
However, reuniting with Uga didn’t mean bringing him back to the city right away.
When Sira saw the wild look in his eyes, the dirt caked under his fingernails, the confused way he tilted his head at the sound of simple words, she knew the truth—he wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t scared. Just… out of place.
So, she didn’t push.
Instead, she asked around and chose a quiet village not too far from the edge of the forest.
It was small, peaceful, full of green fields, soft hills, and kind people who didn’t ask too many questions. They built a modest home there.
Nothing grand. Just a roof, a bed, and a place where Uga wouldn’t feel like the world had become too big too fast.
That was where she began to know him again.
The first thing she noticed, beyond the feral instincts and silence, was the strength.
Not just strength—strength.
Uga’s innate power, the same divine strength he was born with, had not just remained—it had grown.
At five, he had lifted stones twice his size.
Now?
Sira had seen him jump several meters high.
He didn’t even seem to notice how absurd it was.
She was aware of supernatural people. But why does it seem like they were weak compared to her brother by a significantly large gap?
And that terrified Sira… just a little.
Not because she feared him—but because the world would, if they ever saw him as anything other than human.
So, she kept him close.
She taught him things slowly—how to eat with a spoon again, how to speak in full sentences, how to bathe regularly (that one took time).
And he followed, like he always had, with silent loyalty and that dopey, wide smile he wore for her—clumsy, warm, and impossibly pure in a way only he could manage.
Then came the day he snuck out.