The Soviet Hound, Part II

The primary ability of the Spiegel was to generate a force field that blocked and reflected almost any physical force. True to its name as a mirror, it was a simple yet effective power—repelling not only bullets but also magic that manifested as physical force. Conversely, expanding the force field outward meant I could slam whatever was in front of me into a wall. And so, I immediately crushed the five idiots whose brains were clouded with fog. There was a perverse splendor in watching their flesh tear apart, blooming into a crimson explosion.

As a mage, human death is something you cannot help but witness countless times. Through a mage's eyes, watching a soul shatter into dust and scatter provides immense visual satisfaction, no matter how many times you see it. This does not mean I enjoy thrill-killing. It is just that the ugly struggles of humans poised at the crossroads of life and death form a striking contrast with the beauty of their scattering souls.

However, I did not have the luxury of leisurely appreciating the sight right now. The perpetrators of this surprise attack were still unknown, but if they had a mage on their side, there was no way they hadn't noticed the activation of the Spiegel. Once they realized a national relic was here, things would not end with just five men.

First, I had to secure whatever was worth taking immediately. The relic, the Spiegel, the wooden box that held it, and—though I had no idea why it was here—a DVD case. I recalled that when my first memory returned, showing my reflection in the shiny hand mirror alongside the shattered door, this case had been lying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠next to the wooden box. The data inside had to be incredibly valuable.

The corpse of the man I had called... Father was too difficult to bring along. Moving or carrying him would undoubtedly hinder me. Though Yerina Bronska's heart ached, the cold, rational mind of a mage demanded a swift decision.

There was nothing to salvage from the smashed Macintosh computer. The hard drive and the optical disc drive were completely pulverized and scorched. The mangled remains of the crushed enemy soldiers were hardly fit to be called human anymore, looking not much different from the ruined Macintosh.

'Maybe I should have held back a little...'

The rifles they had been holding had also been reduced to scrap metal. I probably couldn't have fired their rocket launcher with this slender body anyway, but I might have managed to shoulder a rifle. It is common sense that if a person with a gun fights a mage, a mage with a gun wins. There was no reason to refuse an automatic weapon.

Fortunately, a handgun was lying near a mahogany table with broken legs. It was unmistakable; it belonged to Yerina's father. Checking the remaining ammunition was a reflex born of my instincts as a combat mage. I was not some theoretical mage who spent all her time groaning in a laboratory.

When roaming the world to excavate relics, the greatest threat was always other mages. To claim your rights against those blinded by the power of relics—those who would not hesitate to betray you to keep them for themselves—you naturally had to get your hands dirty and grow seasoned in the field.

'Though I did end up getting stabbed in the back by those bastards in the end...'

But the past was the past, and the present was the present. For now, I had to get far away from this mysterious place. A quick analysis told me that enchanting the bullets right now would be difficult. It was essentially like creating a temporary relic on the spot, and since it would take hours per bullet, the cost-efficiency was practically non-existent.

I noticed a radio rolling on the floor and confirmed its line was still active. I snatched it up immediately and called the party on the other end.

"Anyone on this channel, respond!"

Despite my shout flouting proper radio protocol, a reply came instantly.

I tilted my head. Miss? Was he talking to me?

"Boss" clearly referred to my father under the circumstances. Thus, the answer to the first shout was 'yes,' but the answer to the second question would be 'no.' I also had a rough understanding of the title "Miss." This meant I was currently in the middle of a chaotic gang war or a sweeping extermination operation.

The answer spilled from my lips before my brain could even process it.

"Father is..."

I swear, I hadn't spoken those words intentionally. It was an involuntary reaction, slipping out on its own like a knee-jerk reflex. Perhaps interpreting the word that should have followed my trailing voice, a brief silence fell over the line. The only sounds filling the quiet were the distant crackle of gunfire in the background and the static of the radio.

Before long, an incredibly solemn voice came through the radio.

"..."

There must have been a prior understanding of how the succession would play out in the event of the leader's death. To be recognized as the head of an organization the moment I dropped into this world left me with a deeply complex, bittersweet feeling. If I weren't in a life-or-death situation, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would have felt far more grateful.

Already, the heavy thud of combat boots echoed from down the hallway. From what I had gathered earlier, I wasn't particularly short, so my stride wasn't narrow, but the gap was bound to close due to the fundamental difference in physical capabilities. To stave off the inevitable, I shouted into the radio once more. Whoever this loyal subordinate was, he was my only lifeline right now.

"Haah... haah... Fine. Where am I supposed to go?"

My breathing was incredibly ragged. Even forming individual words was an ordeal, but I squeezed the air from my lungs to speak.

Well, so much for talking big. In the end, I still had to scrape by on my own. I couldn't even ask where I was, which was incredibly frustrating. Doing so would immediately arouse suspicion.

Though it was hardly ideal, the seamless transition of power suggested that a contingency plan had been set in motion. If so, I, Yerina Bronska, should have already been familiar with it. I could swallow my pride and ask, but it was better to avoid anything that might call my leadership into question later.

Meanwhile, the Spiegel was ready to be activated again. Since the winding corridor walls protected me from direct fire for now, I decided to use the Spiegel to forge a path. What did that mean?

CRASH—!

It meant I had slammed the mirror directly against the wall. A high-pitched ringing followed the deafening explosion. Ignoring the screaming in my ears, I burst through the shattered reinforced concrete wall and stepped outside.

The weather was quite chilly, but it didn't seem to be winter. Spring or autumn, perhaps? With this new information, I could narrow down my current location. They had mentioned a riverbank and a harbor, and if water transport was smooth, it meant we were in a port city located downstream.

As I ran forward blindly, I saw the characteristic Soviet concrete apartment blocks, Khrushchyovkas, scattered everywhere. After ten minutes of weaving through the dreary gray buildings, my legs were shaking uncontrollably, and my lungs were on the verge of declaring a full-blown strike.

Even in this situation... no, let me rephrase that. Because of this situation, there were bastards taking aim with rifles from a distance and shooting at me. Using the outer walls of the Khrushchyovkas and tree trunks as cover, I dodged the hail of bullets while firing back with my handgun to keep them at bay. Naturally, I didn't expect to hit anything. However, the mere presence of suppressive fire significantly lowered the enemy's accuracy, so it was definitely better than nothing.

On the other hand, while the Spiegel could protect me, turning it into an offensive weapon was difficult. The distance to the shooters was far beyond the range of the relic's force field, making it impossible to crush them as I had done before.

Nausea and curses welled up inside me simultaneously. I wanted to spit out whatever I had eaten for my last meal along with a hearty, "Suka!"

I wasn't even sure if I was running in the right direction, but eventually, a flowing river stretched out before my eyes. I shouted into the radio.

"I've reached the river! Do you see me? Where... where are you guys?"

There was no need to wait for a reply. The thunder of gunfire was rapidly drawing closer along the river.

At first, I tried to take cover. If even a single stray round from that rapid-fire burst grazed me, I would never run again. However, I quickly realized the source of the noise was friendly. It was a boat—more precisely, a river cruiser. It wasn't massive, just a small vessel barely over twenty meters long. It seemed to have undergone some heavy modifications, as the deck was fitted with an autocannon usually seen on warships. As if proving the battles the ship had weathered, the waterline was scarred with bullet holes.

A vaguely familiar figure stood on the deck. It didn't take long to realize that this familiarity stemmed from Yerina's memories. The figure shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Miss, get on! We can't stay here long, we have to head out to international waters immediately!"

I was flabbergasted. We're going out to sea in that? It looked like it could sink at any moment. Was that even possible? But there was no reason to doubt him. If I couldn't trust the one who had sworn loyalty to me, who could I trust? I leaped onto the vessel and caught my breath in the cabin. Calling it a cabin was a stretch, as it was far from a luxury cruise ship, separated from the outside by nothing but a sheet of bulletproof glass.

"Haah... haah..."

"Are you alright? Leave the rest to us."

I only knew this man, who carried a faintly East Asian air, through my 'past' memories. And for now, I didn't know why this man—whose name, Pavel, flickered in my mind—pledged such blind loyalty to my father and me.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Pavel, but I detested receiving loyalty without knowing the reason. As long as I remained ignorant of the cause, a sense of debt would pile up, demanding that I repay his devotion in some way. Considering he had sailed a river cruiser up the river under a hail of bullets just to rescue me, it was a debt that could never be repaid with ordinary gratitude.

Fortunately, the opportunity to repay a fraction of that debt arrived sooner than expected. At that moment, Pavel barked into his radio.

For the cruiser to pass through the estuary and reach the sea, it had to go under a drawbridge. The bridge was designed to lift in the middle to let ships pass; otherwise, it was too low for even this small cruiser to clear. However, the bridge ahead was slowly lowering with a heavy mechanical groan. Yes, lowering, not raising. At this rate, even at maximum speed, a collision and subsequent sinking were inevitable.

'Suka...!'

Cursing internally did nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to help. My hesitation was brief; I intended to perform a feat only I could pull off. First, I wanted to gather everyone on board... but since some couldn't leave their posts at the helm, I went to them instead. Perhaps because of the rushed escape, there were only four crew members operating the cruiser, including Pavel. Everything from communications to steering was being handled in a makeshift manner. It was a miracle the ship could even steer.

Fortunately, the fewer people there were, the more stable my plan would be. I cast defensive magic on the crew's bodies. Though nothing changed on the surface, the spell would protect them from external forces if a certain threshold of impact was met.

Pavel asked, looking skeptical. "Um... Miss, since when could you use magic?"

For a second, I felt as if I'd been struck by a hammer. Wait, did Yerina not know magic before? But the urgency of the situation gave me the perfect excuse to brush it off. I gave a vague reply. "Since today."

Pavel followed up. "Even so, even if our bodies are protected, won't the ship sink?"

"Why? Because enchanting inorganic matter is harder and takes longer than organic matter?"

"Yes. Though I'm no mage myself..."

It was true. It was common knowledge to anyone who knew of magic's existence. Enchanting the hull of a twenty-meter cruiser in the time we had was impossible. But there was a way. "Don't worry. I have a plan."

Reassuring Pavel and the rest of the crew, I strode out alone onto the bow deck. A gentle, salty breeze tickled my platinum-blonde hair. It wasn't the kind of thing one should be doing on a bullet-swept battlefield, but I even took a moment to brush back my messy bangs with my fingers. Then, right before the moment of impact, I raised the mirror high and activated the Spiegel.

*SCREEECH!* I had already shattered a reinforced concrete wall, so why wouldn't I be able to break a steel-framed bridge? Without magical protection, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any physical structure was like wet paper before this national relic. The power of the relic neutralized most of the impact on the keel and hull, releasing it outward like rays of light. A massive splash shattered into fine, white sea spray. Even so, the shock was enough to knock a person off their feet. I barely managed to stay upright on the deck with my trembling legs. One by one, the spells I had cast on the crew activated, cushioning the impact.