Goose-feather snowflakes drifted down in a swirling dance, and the entire land lay buried beneath a thick blanket of snow. The highway running along the forest's edge had been churned into mud by truck tires. Melted snow and filth mixed together, black as ink and utterly filthy.
This was the Eastern European Plain, territory that had originally belonged to Russia. But after Germany went to war with Buru and the Buru army was dealt a crushing blow, it had been forced to withdraw from western Buru, leaving this vast stretch of land under German military control. At the same time, the Russians living in this region had become subjects of a fallen nation.
At the forest's edge, less than fifty meters from the highway, the previously still ground suddenly stirred. A young man covered in thick snow climbed up from the ground. His body, head, even his eyebrows and beard were all blanketed in white, making him completely blend into the surrounding snowfield. Without a careful look, he was impossible to distinguish.
"Damn it, why haven't the Germans come yet? If this keeps up, we'll freeze stiff before they even get here!" the young man said indignantly.
Not far from him, a head emerged from the snow. It belonged to a middle-aged man concealed there.
"All right, Ivan. Intelligence says a German transport convoy will definitely pass through here this morning. We just need to wait patiently," the middle-aged man said.
"Yes, Uncle Vasily," the young man named Ivan replied.
More and more people emerged from the snow. They were all guerillas operating in the forest. In order to resist the German military and inflict greater casualties on the Germans, Buru had specifically sent people into the occupied areas to organize large numbers of guerilla units. Most of these guerillas