March 1901
Alexei pondered the events that had taken place in the slums just weeks ago. With the discovery of the bodies, the authorities began questioning anyone who might be connected to the murder, Anna and her brothers included. Fortunately, being children, they were quickly ruled out as possible suspects.
Still, the situation had shaken him. He needed to increase their security soon. They were his investments, and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to them.
Maybe he should recruit another batch of children? The thought made him grimace. It was starting to feel like he was running an orphanage, and he didn't like that one bit. Anna's brothers were already more than enough to handle.
He decided to shelve the idea for now. What he needed most at the moment was money. He had promised Anna he would buy them a house and assured her he'd handle the cost. But only now did he realize he hadn't actually figured out how to get the money.
He couldn't simply ask his parents, not without raising more suspicion. They already found his knowledge unsettling, asking for a large sum of money would only deepen their concerns. How could he possibly explain what it was for?
Maybe he should just steal it from them instead of asking? He considered the idea seriously. A bit bold... but not impossible.
Another thought struck him. What if he robs the criminals in the city? Play Robin Hood, but keep the money for himself. It wasn't a bad idea. The city was full of corrupt rich men who wouldn't be missed.
Whatever path he chose, he needed to decide after he came back from hunting this spring.
Alexei let out a quiet sigh and headed to the bathroom to wash up. He still had appointments with his "new friends" later. His mother had been overjoyed when he made friends during her party, despite not coming back after his "soiled pants" excuse. So much so that she convinced her friends at court to spend the late winter season at the palace together with their children. He can't really do something about it. Best to get ready now.
—----
After lunch
He walked toward the room beside the nursery, where his supposed playmates were already gathered, playing. The moment his attendant, Sednev, opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of children running about.
Of course, he thought. With their parents not in attendance today, they're behaving like normal children.
He sighed inwardly, already wondering what he would do with them, or whether he could find an excuse to leave early if they turned out to be especially annoying. He also noticed a few unfamiliar faces among the group.
Looks like the other nobles at court aren't letting this opportunity pass them by, he mused.
Marina, the most talkative among his so-called friends, spotted him and immediately dashed toward him.
"Your Imperial Highness, you're here! We've been waiting for you. We thought you weren't going to join us again today." She said with a pout.
Before he could respond, Sergei, the eldest of the children present, came running up to him.
"Your Imperial Highness, you're finally here! Come on, let's play Durak again." Sergei laughed after speaking, already looking smug. He clearly remembered how many times he had beaten the others at the game and was enjoying the memory far too much.
"Alright." Alexei replied.
In no time, the rest of the children had gathered around him. Elena and Roman moved in closer, subtly positioning themselves beside him. Alexei didn't mind and let them be. He led them to the table, where the cards had already been prepared, and they began to play.
As they gathered the cards after the first round, Elena glanced toward the group of children who had been watching from a distance. After a brief pause, she turned back to Alexei.
"Do you want me to introduce them?"
"Who?" Alexei asked without looking up, neatly stacking the cards.
"Our friends." She said, gesturing behind her. "We brought them with us today. Their parents are also staying in the palace."
Before Alexei could respond, Marina was already waving them over. "Come on, don't just hover there like ghosts!"
The tallest of the group stepped forward, a boy with an arrogant tilt to his chin and neatly combed blond hair. He stopped a few feet away and crossed his arms, staring at Alexei as though sizing him up, like a rival.
"This is Vladimir." Elena whispered to Alexei. "He's… well… he can be difficult."
"I heard that." Vladimir muttered, his tone sharp. "I'm not difficult. I just don't grovel."
"Obviously." Marina said with a laugh, clearly unbothered by his mood.
The second boy, Lev, had a much more relaxed air. Freckles dotted his nose, and a shy smile played on his lips as he stepped forward.
"Your Imperial Highness." Lev said with a small bow. "It's an honor to meet you."
Alexei offered a polite nod. "Thank you."
"And this." Marina continued. "Is Irina. She's great at embroidery and chess. You'll like her."
Irina, a tall girl with neatly braided dark hair over one shoulder, gave an elegant curtsy. "It's nice to meet you, Your Highness."
Alexei studied them one by one. Lev seemed eager to please. Irina appeared calm and poised. And Vladimir, well, Vladimir looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Everyone," Alexei began, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. The small sound somehow quieted the group, drawing their full attention.
"Since it looks like we'll be playmates from now on." He continued. "There's no need to call me 'Your Imperial Highness' when no one else is around. It's too long. You can just call me Alexei instead. Just be careful to use my title when adults are nearby, so you don't get scolded. Is that alright with everyone?"
"Yes, of course!" Sergei responded first, eyes wide with excitement at being granted such familiarity. The rest quickly nodded their agreement, clearly pleased by the idea.
Even Roman, quiet as always, gave a small, quick nod, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
Vladimir didn't respond aloud, but he didn't protest either.
With that, they returned to the game. Cards were dealt, and laughter rose. Sergei, with his usual confidence, kept winning round after round, grinning smugly every time he outplayed someone. It didn't take long for the rest to gang up on him, verbally, at least.
"This isn't fair! You've won three times in a row!" Marina huffed, tossing her cards down in frustration.
"Yeah." Elena added, narrowing her eyes. "At this point, you should just step aside."
Sergei leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, positively glowing with pride. "Then beat me. That's the rule, isn't it? If you want me out, you'll have to win first."
He laughed heartily, and the others groaned in good-natured defeat.
As the next hand was dealt, Marina leaned closer to Alexei, eyes shining with curiosity. "Hey, Alexei, are you going to join the spring hunting trip?"
At that, a few of the others perked up. Elena raised an eyebrow, and Lev straightened in his seat. Even Irina, who had been silently watching the game unfold, looked mildly interested.
Alexei looked up from his cards. "Yes"
"Oh!" Marina clapped her hands. "Then we'll ask our parents if we can go too!"
"Me too." Lev said eagerly. "I've never been hunting, but I've always wanted to try."
"Irina and I can go together," Elena said with a smile. "We'll bring warm clothes and practice archery until then."
Alexei exhaled softly, the corners of his mouth twitching in something between amusement and weariness. He set his cards down for a moment and leaned his elbow on the table.
"You can ask them." he said, "but they probably won't consent."
Marina tilted her head. "Why not?"
"Because hunting is dangerous." Alexei replied. "Most of the court keeps their children away from it, no matter how much they ask."
"I'm not afraid of the danger." Sergei declared.
"It's not about you being afraid." Alexei said flatly. "It's about your parents worrying too much."
The group quieted for a second, digesting that. Roman looked down at his cards, fidgeting. Lev exchanged a glance with Marina, who slouched in disappointment.
Still, Marina wasn't one to be discouraged for long. "Well, I'll ask anyway. Maybe if enough of us ask, they'll make an exception!"
Alexei gave a quiet sigh and picked up his cards again. "Good luck with that."
He was certain their parents wouldn't approve of them joining the hunting trip, so he wasn't the least bit worried they'd actually come along and ruin his vacation. What he truly looked forward to was seeing what kind of guns would be used. He planned only to observe, of course. No matter how much he begged, he doubted his father would allow him to fire one. Maybe, maybe, he'd be allowed to hold one, but not shoot it.
Still, that would be enough.
He had never used a gun in his first life. And in the cultivation world, there were no firearms to be found. This would be his first real encounter with one, and since guns were the primary weapon in this world, he was determined to not just become familiar with them, but to master them.
It didn't take long for them to be called out by their respected parents. They said their goodbye to each other and parted ways.
Alexei walked out with his attendant, Sednev, who had remained quietly present the entire time. Outside, they were joined by Nagorny. Alexei found himself quietly grateful that his attendants were the silent type, professional, discreet, and unlikely to speak unless spoken to. From what he could tell, they carried out their duties with discipline.
Still, he couldn't quite read what they truly thought of him.
He wanted to check first if they can be trusted and confided with his plans in the future. That would be ideal from what he can tell. They were already working so close to him and it would be great to have someone cover up for him if he has to go out in case of emergency. Time would tell.
As they walked through the corridor, the clack of polished shoes echoed faintly against the marble floor. Sednev and Nagorny flanked him in silence.
When they reached the dining room, the tall doors were pulled open by servants. Inside, the table was already set, crystal glasses, silver cutlery, and the quiet presence of imperial etiquette hanging in the air like perfume. His parents were already seated.
"Alexei." His mother greeted with a warm, practiced smile. "Did you enjoy your time with the other children?"
"I did." He replied, taking his seat. "They brought new friends with them."
His father glanced at him from across the table. "And did you behave as you should?"
Alexei inclined his head slightly. "Yes, Father."
The meal progressed with quiet civility. His mother asked gentle questions, what games they played, whether the other children were polite, and he responded in his childish tones. His father spoke little, mostly observing his children.
Olga, as always, ate while playing with her stuffed toy. She refused to behave unless her beloved companion was with her. Tatiana, on the other hand, was quiet. It seemed their parents had finally figured out what would keep her occupied during meals, judging by the object she clutched in her hands. Alexei wasn't sure what it was, nor was he particularly interested. What mattered was that, for once, there was no crying at the table.
Dinner concluded quickly, and Alexei was soon led back to his chambers by his attendants. When they reached his room, Sednev stepped forward and opened the door, waiting as Alexei entered. Sednev followed him in while Nagorny remained outside, standing guard.
Inside, Sednev moved with practiced ease, drawing the curtains shut and preparing the bed. The room was warm, the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth filling the silence.
"Please rest now, Your Highness." Sednev said with a gentle smile.
Alexei took a slow look around the room, checking the corners as he always did. After a moment, he gave a nod. "Thank you. You may go now." Before Sednev could close the door. He added "Oh, and thank Nargorny for me."
"Yes. Your Highness." Sednev bowed and left.
Once they were gone, Alexei made his way to the washroom and cleaned himself thoroughly. Warm water sluiced over his skin as he scrubbed away the weight of the day, but his mind was elsewhere, already fixed on the coming spring hunt.
He couldn't help but wonder. Could he enhance a rifle the same way he had enhanced his throwing knives?
Back in the slums, during that encounter, he had instinctively coated his knives with a thin layer of qi before throwing them at the intruders. That energy, though barely controlled, had enhanced the blades' sharpness and durability. It was a rudimentary application, but in that critical moment, it worked. The knives pierced deeper and struck faster than they ever should have.
It hadn't been something he consciously planned. It was a split-second reaction, the moment he saw the thugs about to strike his subordinates, his mind acted before his body could catch up. In truth, he hadn't practiced qi enhancement in this life, nor had he even attempted it before then. His body wasn't trained for reflexes like that, at least, not yet. But his soul remembered, and his instincts carried the action through.
He hadn't expected it to work.
But it did.
Since that day, he had practiced every single day. Forks, spoons and any other handheld objects that could be turned into weapons. The moment these objects leave his hands, the qi enhancement would only stick to the blade for 5 seconds at most before dissipating. Moreover, he tried to enhance them with other enhancements he remembered from his past life. But he failed. He can only enhance them with sharpness and durability.
In the cultivation world, enhancing weapons with qi had been commonplace, but it was always a deeply personal art. Qi was not a universal force, it reflected the nature, will, and element of the cultivator. Some could enhance their blades with burning heat, others with icy sharpness, others still with pure force or speed.
My qi isn't elemental, Alexei thought, rubbing his face with a towel. At least, not that I've seen. But it's stable... dense. Focused. Like me.
He recalled what the elders in his past life used to say: "Qi is not just energy, it is intent made manifest. It carries your will." The stronger the cultivator's will, the stronger the effect. But unlike in tales or myths, qi could not leave the body to form weapons out of thin air. That was a fantasy. It needed a medium, something physical to bond to. Steel, wood, iron. Weapons held in one's hand. Where the cultivators could channel their qi and enhance it with whatever they like or capable of.
A gun, however, was more complicated. Rifles weren't made for qi circulation. They had moving parts, delicate, mechanical structures not easily enhanced with raw energy. But if he could figure it out, if he could even partially enhance it, improve its accuracy, reduce its recoil, reinforce the barrel or improve the range of its bullet, it would give him an undeniable edge.
The question was. Would he even be allowed to fire one during the hunt?
He doubted it. His father was unlikely to let him so much as load a rifle, let alone shoot it. At best, he'd be allowed to watch. Maybe hold it, under supervision. Still, that would be enough to test things. A start.
After finishing his wash, Alexei returned to his room. He checked the space once more, his usual routine. Curtains drawn, windows secured, locks clicked into place. Only then did he settle on his bed, his posture straight, breathing controlled.
The fire still crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
He closed his eyes and sank into the stillness.
Qi flowed slowly from his dantian, circulating through his limbs like a steady current. Not wild, not fiery, but calm, controlled and dense.
—----
Spring
"Are we there yet?"
His son had been repeating that question ever since they left St. Petersburg.
They were currently on their way to the Białowieża Forest for the upcoming hunt. This would be the first time Nicholas had a chance to bond with his son alone, without his ever-watchful, ever-nagging wife present.
He immediately pushed that thought aside. Careful, he reminded himself. He wasn't sure if his wife had a sixth sense or something similar, but she always seemed to know when he so much as thought about badmouthing her. And after all these years, Nicholas had been training himself not to fall into that trap.
"Not yet," Nicholas replied, glancing sideways at his son, who was still buried in his book. The boy hadn't even looked up.
He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. "What's wrong with you today? You've asked that question like…" He paused, trying to recall.
"Nine times, Your Imperial Majesty," Boris, ever dutiful, answered perfectly. Clearly listening and watching every detail that will interest his Tsar.
Nicholas chuckled. "Right, nine times. That's nearly a week's worth of words coming from you, miraculous, really."
He leaned back against the cushioned seat, casting a sideways glance at his son. For a moment, he considered trying again, another attempt at conversation, some shared interest, anything that could build the connection between father and son.
When Alexei had spoken his first words earlier than most children, Nicholas had been thrilled. He'd imagined them talking about books, history, or even politics someday. But in reality, Alexei gave short, clipped answers that ended any discussion before it began. Every attempt at bonding had left Nicholas feeling like he was talking to a small statesman, or worse, a scholar trapped in a child's body.
"Why are you reading anyway?" Nicholas asked, pretending to sound bored. "We're supposed to be on a vacation. Can't you at least pretend to be excited?"
"I am excited," Alexei replied without lifting his eyes from the pages. "I just want to finish this chapter."
Nicholas rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. "Well, forgive me for wanting to talk to my only son while we're traveling to the imperial hunting grounds. Silly me."
That earned a small grin from Alexei, even if it was hidden behind the book.
"What's the book this time?"
Alexei finally looked up. "It's about European rifle manufacturing. I want to understand the differences before the hunt."
Nicholas blinked. "Of course you do." He glanced at Boris and muttered, "He's not even ten."
Boris just smiled.
Alexei closed the book slowly and placed it on his lap. "I'm aware I won't be allowed to shoot. But I'd still like to understand what I'll be watching. It helps me learn."
Nicholas was quiet for a moment, somewhat caught off guard by the boy's serious tone.
"You're right," he admitted, sitting up straighter. "But maybe you should also learn how to enjoy yourself. You're allowed to have fun, you know."
Alexei gave a small nod. "I'll try."
Outside, the scenery was already beginning to change. The endless white of the countryside had given way to dense forest lines as they neared the estate.
"We'll be there in about fifteen minutes, Your Majesty," Boris informed them, adjusting his gloves as the carriage rocked gently on the packed snow road.
Nicholas smiled and leaned toward the window. "Look at that, Alexei. That's the edge of Białowieża. You see those trees? Your grandfather hunted here."
Alexei pressed a hand to the frosted glass, peering through. The trees looked ancient, tall, silent guardians of some forgotten world. He had read about this forest. Białowieża was said to be one of the oldest and most mysterious forests in Europe, still home to bison and wolves.
"Will we see any wolves?" he asked.
Nicholas chuckled. "Maybe. But don't get your hopes up, they're shy creatures. Not like your mother." Ooops. My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. He quickly added in his mind.
Alexei smirked.
Nicholas let out a satisfied sigh. Moments like this, where his son smiled or cracked the smallest joke, were rare and precious.
The carriage began to slow as the forest thinned near a clearing. Up ahead, the imperial hunting lodge came into view, a stately wooden manor nestled among the trees. Smoke curled from the chimney, and guards stood at attention near the entry gate. Their horses let out low breaths of steam in the cold air.
"Here we are," Nicholas murmured, straightening his coat. He gave his son a playful look. "Time to stop being a scholar and become a hunter, eh?"
Alexei gave a half-shrug, then reached down to gather his gloves and book. "Maybe I can be both."
Nicholas laughed. "Of course you can."
The carriage came to a stop, and the door was opened by an attendant. A gust of cold air swept in, but neither father nor son flinched. They stepped out together, Nicholas lifting Alexei lightly, and walked toward the gathered nobles who would join them in the hunt.
A cluster of fur-clad men stood near the entrance of the hunting lodge, their breaths visible in the frigid evening air. The snow beneath their polished boots crunched softly as they shifted in place. Behind them, groomsmen tended to horses, and the scent of pinewood smoke wafted from the chimney, blending with the crisp winter air.
As Nicholas approached, the nobles straightened. Their formal bows were measured and practiced.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Count Orlov greeted first, stepping forward. His thick mustache was tipped with frost, and his gloved hand pressed flat against his chest as he bowed. "It is an honor to accompany you once again in the hunt."
"Count," Nicholas nodded, a polite smile tugging at his lips. "I trust your aim has improved since last year?"
A ripple of polite laughter followed. Count Orlov chuckled. "I've done my best, Sire. Though I fear the boar may still outrun me."
"Then let's hope they're feeling charitable," Nicholas said, stepping aside to gesture toward his son. "You all know my son, Alexei."
The nobles offered respectful nods and bows to the young Tsarevich. Alexei, standing straight despite the cold, returned each greeting with polite stiffness.
"He'll be observing this year's hunt," Nicholas added, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "A future Tsar should know our traditions, even if he isn't pulling a trigger just yet."
"A wise decision, Your Majesty," said General Mikhailov, a broad-shouldered man with a proud, weathered face. "Nothing teaches better than watching men in the wild."
Alexei glanced up at his father but said nothing, his face unreadable. He remained still and quiet as the greetings continued, Baron Sheremetev, Prince Volkonsky and familiar names from court.
They were eventually ushered into the warmth of the lodge, where a roaring fire greeted them in the central hall. Coats were removed, boots dried, and drinks offered. The air smelled of aged wood and fur, spiced drink and faint cigar smoke.
The lodge itself was rustic but elegant, befitting imperial taste without losing the charm of a forest retreat. Large hunting trophies adorned the walls, stag antlers, bear heads, even a rare lynx pelt. Beneath them, polished rifles rested on mounts, glinting in the firelight.
Nicholas joined a table of older nobles by the fire, already engrossed in a discussion about which dogs would be used tomorrow and where the best trails were likely to be. It didn't take long for politics to creep in, the murmurs of unrest in the cities, the strikes that had begun spreading like frost. But as usual, the tsar treated this as air. He doesn't want to discuss politics during his vacation.
Alexei, however, kept his distance, observing more than engaging. He walked along the edge of the room, studying the mounted rifles, occasionally glancing at the nobles who were also stealing glances at him.
Eventually, dinner was served in a long, timbered hall. The meal was hearty, game stew, fresh bread, cured meats, and root vegetables. Despite the formality, the atmosphere was more relaxed than the palace. Nicholas watched his son closely, noting how well he navigated the nobles' curiosity, answering questions with polite, clipped replies.
When the plates were cleared and the fire had begun to settle into glowing embers, Nicholas stood.
"We rise before dawn," he announced. "Let's all get some rest. Tomorrow, the forest awaits."
The nobles rose in unison, offering bows and murmured goodnights. The mood shifted again, less laughter now, more anticipation. The hunt was a performance of power, grace and tradition. None wanted to be the fool come morning.
Nicholas placed a hand gently on Alexei's back and nodded toward the hall. "Come, let's settle in."
The boy didn't resist. He was already growing tired.
Their attendants met them by the stairs. The bedrooms upstairs were warm and spacious, with thick curtains to block the cold and heavy quilts laid across the beds. Sednev helped Alexei out of his coat while Nagorny prepared the fire in the hearth.
Nicholas lingered for a moment, standing in the doorway to his son's room.
"You did well today," he said softly, his tone lacking the usual teasing. "You carried yourself with dignity."
Alexei looked up briefly while unlacing his boots. "Thank you."
Nicholas hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Sleep well, son. Tomorrow, you'll see the forest come alive."
"I'm looking forward to it," Alexei replied.
With a rare, quiet smile, Nicholas turned away and disappeared down the hall. Sednev pulled the curtains shut while Nagorny dimmed the lanterns.
—--
After checking that everything was okay in the room. Sednev and Nagorny excuse themselves.
Alexei slid beneath the heavy covers. As the warmth enveloped him and the crackle of the fire lulled him toward sleep, he stared at the darkened ceiling.
He thought of his friends at court, who had cried when they learned they could not join him. As he expected, their parents had refused to let them take part in the hunt. They were content to see their children accompany him in the safety of the court, but in dangerous places like this, they would never agree. He didn't mind, though, if anything, he was grateful they hadn't come. It would have been a headache trying to mingle with them while also figuring out whether he could enhance the rifle's capabilities in his hands.