Chapter 411: Running with the Wind, Freedom is the Direction
In the valley, a group of resistance fighters were undergoing rigorous military training. The leader, codenad Swallow, had gained so international recognition for their cause, which brought them much-needed supplies and funding. Their overseas accounts grew with each battle, but Swallow kept a secret: besides the organization’s funds, he had a private account that was also steadily increasing.
Overall, the resistance was now financially stable, no longer struggling like before. They found a suitable spot along the Allia border and built a military base. Using the overseas funds, they hired retired officers from other countries to provide proper military training.
Everything was falling into place. Swallow was unanimously chosen as the leader. To raise awareness of the situation in Allia and expose Gephra’s atrocities and the locals’ suffering, they needed to build their reputation.
Though these goals seed unrelated, they were deeply connected. The larger the resistance’s na grew—locally, regionally, internationally—the more attention they attracted. A shepherd on the roadside might only make entertainnt news by pulling out his eyeballs, but a resistance leader releasing footage and docunts made political headlines. The impact was worlds apart.
To foster unity, the young white dog nad the loose group The Light of Allia’s Freedom. Freedom’s light—a beacon of hope.
Swallow wanted their movent to be that light shining into people’s dark lives, showing them the way to freedom.
To protect himself, he fully embraced the na Swallow, which beca more than a code—it embodied the spirit of bravely charging through storms, tearing apart all dark clouds.
“Swallow!”
A voice outside a wooden cabin interrupted Swallow’s conversation with others. All eyes turned toward the door as a hurried teenager carrying a rifle rushed in.
Besides Swallow, the room held the base’s chief instructor, accountant, logistics chief, and several combat captains.
Under so many senior figures’ gaze, the teen tensed. After a brief mont of hesitation, he stood tall and saluted crisply. “Sir!”
The chief instructor, a strict soldier valuing rank and discipline, would punish any misconduct. The boy’s tily salute saved him from running laps before dinner.
Swallow smiled, nodded, and said, “Alright, co in. What’s the matter?”
He loved the atmosphere—everyone united toward one goal—and believed they could drive the barbaric Gephra invaders from their holand.
Look at what the Gephra had done: shutting off water and electricity, causing heatstroke deaths among the elderly, weak, and sick. Sotis, they coldly shot innocent locals for various reasons.
Only by expelling these devilish Gephra could the people hope again. This was the shared ideal and goal of everyone there.
The increasingly organized camp gave Swallow a sense of power. He believed that if they kept fighting, success was inevitable.
He owed much to an international ally codenad Robin. Thanks to Robin, they had broken the stalemate and seized opportunity.
More people joined the fight against the Gephra thieves and tyranny. The people’s hearts were united.
Every person here, every base in these mountains, every resistance group—they were comrades.
“Leader, the communications unit just intercepted a secret ssage…” The teenager pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to Swallow.
Swallow took the note, patted the boy’s shoulder, and said, “Go on with your duties.”
After the boy left, Swallow opened the note. After reading, a smile of joy appeared on his face.
“What is it?” asked the chief instructor, a forr elite from Baratan’s renowned knightly order—actually a modern army fad for discipline and training, though outmatched militarily by Gephra and the Federation. Many retired knights received invitations from various nations and groups. Swallow, through Robin’s connections, had recruited five retired knights from Baratan to train them.
The chief instructor’s judgnt far surpassed others, earning him a leadership role in Light of Freedom. Swallow sotis dread that after they drove out the Gephra, reclaid their holand, and declared independence, he would make the chief instructor their army general.
Swallow handed the note to the chief instructor and explained to others, “The day after tomorrow, a new batch of Gephra military supplies will be transported by rail. This is a great opportunity!”
His eyes shone. If they could intercept this shipnt, they’d gain resources to grow, hire more fighters, weaken Gephra’s power, and damage their morale.
The chief instructor read the note expressionlessly, then handed it back, head lowered.
After about ten seconds, he furrowed his brow. Swallow imdiately asked, “What’s wrong? Sothing off?”
The instructor hesitated, then nodded. “Too detailed…”
Indeed, the note contained an unusually detailed account: exact timing, supplies, and routes into Allia. Such precision was rare in warti; it was like shouting, We have sothing valuable here—co and take it. It was suspicious. ????????B????
Why would they reveal so much when secrecy was crucial?
Swallow and the others frowned, mostly to show they shared the uneasy feeling of uncertainty—aware there was a problem but unsure how to fix it.
Simply put, they didn’t want to seem incompetent.
None of them were military experts before; most were ordinary people. How would they know?
Swallow looked conflicted. “Well… if it’s no good, forget it.” He sighed but everyone understood his real aning: “Let’s check it out.”
After so thought, the chief instructor nodded slowly, “I might be wrong. We can send scouts first. If we can intercept this ssage, so can others.”
“Alright, we’ll follow your plan. The chief instructor thinks it through more thoroughly and it’s safer,” Swallow agreed imdiately.
Swallow also faced his own difficulties. Their developnt had beco dependent on allies like Robin. Sotis, he felt uneasy, as if he and the entire organization were controlled by Robin.
Robin regularly assigned him missions—blowing up public facilities, sabotaging production equipnt, or destroying roads. Only by completing these tasks would they receive further supplies and funding. Without Robin, they would quickly lose a stable source of support.
Swallow had reached out to arms dealers wandering around Allia, but their prices were shocking. Even a basic rifle cost three tis what it would elsewhere, and so scarce materials were marked up tenfold.
If he could break free from Robin or reduce his dependence, he would be able to negotiate on equal terms, no longer as a subordinate.
The Gephra supply transport was a chance. If they seized part of it, they wouldn’t lack resources for a while and would gain leverage against Robin.
As he recruited more fighters and acquired better equipnt, he dread of eventually operating independently, no longer needing to contact Robin—a state of self-sufficiency and balance.
Robin had indeed helped him and the fighters of the Light of Freedom, but Robin was not one of them, not truly invested in their cause. Swallow did not fully trust him.
He was Swallow, a fighter for freedom. He resisted not only Gephra’s brutal rule and exploitation but also the unpredictable fate of the resistance—and even Robin.
No one could bind Swallow’s freedom. Not even the fiercest storm could force him to bow his proud head.
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