Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov

[rsc]

Alexei didn't know what would happen to him now that he was dying again. He didn't come from this world. He is a transmigrator. He came from 21st-century Earth, where modern things are available. Easy access to the internet and food was always heaven for him, and then he died due to a car accident when he went to get his take-out food from a fast food chain.

When he regained consciousness, he was reborn in this world of cultivation. He thought that he might be the main character of this world and would have a golden finger bestowed upon him, because that's what the transmigrator always gets every time they reincarnate in a new world, but he didn't. He didn't get any golden finger or a system. Still, he persevered and joined a sect to attain immortality and unparalleled strength, despite the hardship and constant killing required to obtain resources. His primary focus in cultivation and techniques is assassination. He is still capable of fighting his enemies head-on, but a quick and clean death is what he prefers. And now he is here lying and dying in an unknown place because he is betrayed by his senior brothers who don't want to share the heavenly treasures they got from this place. Oh, how wrong he is to think that he is the protagonist of this world and story, only to end up dying because of his foolishness. Death is not something foreign to him, and now he is thinking of what will happen to him. Will he be reborn again? Will he be the protagonist in his next life? Or he dies truly and joins others in oblivion. All of these were what he was thinking as he took his last breath.

November 15, 1895

"Push, Your Majesty," urged the chief midwife, assisting the noblewoman as she prepared to give birth in a large room bustling with people. This lady was the wife of the Tsar of Imperial Russia, and the atmosphere was charged with urgency and chaos. The chief midwife and her team worked diligently to wipe the sweat and blood from the lady's body, ensuring she remained as comfortable as possible. Surgeons and physicians were also present, ready to intervene in case any complications arose during the delivery or to perform a physical examination on the baby once it was born. Despite her exhaustion, the lady displayed remarkable courage as she faced the trials of childbirth.

"Push, Your Majesty! The head is showing. It will be over soon," the midwife called out again when she saw the baby's head emerging. This time, the noble lady didn't hesitate and pushed with all her strength. It worked. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of a baby crying, so loud that it seemed to resonate throughout the entire palace.

"It's a prince, Your Majesty!" the midwife exclaimed with a smile as she wiped the blood and grime from the newborn. The birth of the prince filled everyone in the room with joy. It seemed more significant to them that he was a prince rather than a princess. "And he will be a strong prince, judging by how loudly he cries!" The empress didn't hear any of this, as she was too exhausted and fell asleep as soon as she confirmed that the baby had been delivered.

Not long after the door opened, the Tsar of Imperial Russia entered upon hearing his son's cries. He looked at the baby with a smile, filled with happiness, clearly delighted that he had a prince. His gaze was pulled away when the midwife handed the baby to him to hold. He was surprised to see the baby staring back at him with wide eyes, and the infant stopped crying. The Tsar felt immense joy at having an heir, especially one who was robust, as indicated by the strength of his cries.

"Alexei, his name will be Alexei Nikolaevich," he said gently, cradling his son as he watched him drift off to sleep in his arms. Afterward, he handed the baby back to the midwife and checked on his wife. Seeing that she was simply asleep and exhausted filled him with relief. Shortly after, the rest of his family entered the room, gazing at the sleeping prince. Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich, the third in line for succession now after his brother Grand Duke George Alexandrovich and the newly born Alexei, congratulated him with a pat on the arm. "Congratulations, brother! It seems you can relax now that you have an heir." Nicholas was glad to sense that he genuinely meant it. He smiled and replied, "Thank you, brother." He is still sad that his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, couldn't be with him at this moment. A second later, Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna also offered her congratulations before turning her attention to the baby, leaving her brothers to continue their conversation.

It didn't take long for the family members to arrive and check on the baby. Once they satisfied their curiosity, they left one by one. Nicholas turned to his aide. "Arrange for a baptism as soon as possible. Also, prepare for a grand banquet to be held in the coming months to celebrate the birth of my son and heir." He spoke while they were in the birthing room together, clearly overjoyed. He was willing to spare no expense to make this the grandest banquet in centuries. Although he was still grieving the death of his father, Alexander III, this was a time for celebration. With the birth of his son and heir, it was time for the empire to revel in joy.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." Boris, the trusted aide to the Tsar, replied before excusing himself to begin planning the baptism and the banquet. He needed to send letters to the nobles and other important figures in the empire. Considering the time it takes for the letters to be delivered and for guests to travel to St. Petersburg, as well as the need for the baby to be healthy enough to be presented at court, the grand banquet would be held six months from now, while the baptism could be carried out as soon as possible. Boris was thrilled that the Tsar had welcomed a son and heir as their first child with the Tsarina. He was determined to ensure that this banquet would be the grandest event held in the century. To accomplish this, he needed to gather his subordinates to develop a detailed plan.

Not long after the birth Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov. A formal Orthodox baptism was held in the Church of the Holy Apostles Peter & Paul.

Soon after that, an official announcement was made throughout the empire. It states that. "From now on, in accordance with the Fundamental Laws of the Empire, the Imperial title of Heir Tsarevich, and all the rights pertaining to it, belong to Our Son Alexei." The people rejoiced while the revolutionaries didn't.

6 months later…

Alexei was unsure whether to laugh or cry out of happiness as soon as he realized he had been reborn. No one wants to die, or at least that's what he believes. This belief is why he feels a deep sense of joy inside, even if it doesn't show on his baby face. He is curious about where he has landed this time. Given the number of visitors he receives and their fancy clothing, it seems that his new family holds a prominent position in this country or this world. He rarely laughs, even when people try to make him smile. Instead, he just stares at them with curiosity.

It was hard at first, but this is not the first time for Alexei to become a baby. Surely the first time, he didn't know about it. But the second time during his first reincarnation, surely he experienced it first hand, and it was to be in the body that can't even move freely, just shit and piss all the time. And now he is experiencing it again, and after the happiness of being reborn again subsided, comes the bitterness of living through the life of being a baby again.

Alexei was always listening to the conversations around him while pretending to sleep. He despises this body, it can hardly stay awake for more than a few hours. He only wakes up when he is hungry or needs to relieve himself. After six months of constant eavesdropping and comparing words to actions, he has begun to understand the language and his situation. He realizes he is in the Empire of Russia, with his name as Alexei, his father as Nicholas II, and his mother as Alexandra Feodorovna. This knowledge helps him understand that he is now in his original world but in the past. Oh! How he wishes he could smash everything within reach with his tiny arms and hands! But he can't. If whoever is responsible for his reincarnation had the power, why not send him back to the modern world instead of the past? Nonetheless, he calms down, after all, he has already experienced the brutality and harshness of the cultivation world. The late 1800s and early 1900s are still more appealing compared to that. Though he doesn't remember much history from his first life, he knows for certain that World War I is approaching. He also remembers so little of the name given to him by his father, Alexei, as he only knew that this Alexei was the youngest of Tsar Nicholas II's children and the only son. This leads him to wonder: where are his sisters? "Damn, there's so much to think about," he muses. The history he learned from his past life consists solely of the monarchs, their families, and the empires that existed, and even that is only a superficial understanding. He guesses he will have to make the best of what he has. Still, he promises himself to live this life to the fullest and to avoid dying before reaching old age, after all, he has yet to experience what it means to grow old.

During these 6 months, Alexei was trying to feel qi in this world using many cultivation techniques he knows from the cultivation world. He noted that the qi in this world is very thin, he can hardly feel it, but it's there. After repeated tries of using many cultivation techniques, from high grade to the lowest. Only the low quality body cultivation technique that he got from his second life works. It is a cultivation technique that enhances body strength, agility and senses. It only strengthens the body and nothing more. He got bitter after confirming that he can't try cultivating some powerful cultivation techniques that can let him conquer this world with ease and be revered as God. But he soon got over it. He will not conquer the world anyway. Oh, the drama and politics that comes with it already gives him a headache. All he wants is to live as freely as possible. Being Tsesarevich is already a privilege, while being emperor is more than one can expect. If he and his family will survive the revolutions of course. He doesn't want to play politics if he can, if possible solve everything through assassination but he knows that it is impossible in this world. Well, he will face it when the time comes.

Anyway, Maybe the heaven defying techniques are just powerful for this world or he got nerfed before reincarnating for balance or the qi is not sufficient enough for other cultivation techniques. No matter what, this body cultivation technique is still enough for him to at least survive this world that is full of revolutions, uprising and wars. Right now, Alexei is trying to cultivate the only cultivation technique that works in this world while pretending to sleep. Who knows how long it is for him to get through level 9 Body Cultivation? The qi here in this world is so thin that it might never exist if not for his complete cultivation technique. So, he better start early than nothing.

Alexei is currently pretending to be asleep while he examines his body for any diseases or issues. He has discovered that he indeed has a disease, but he is unsure of what it is. Nevertheless, he wants to determine if his body cultivation technique can cure or at least suppress the illness. He feels nervous because this is a low-quality cultivation technique, and he worries it might not be effective against this type of disease. Fortunately, after repeated attempts and channeling qi into his body, Alexei begins to feel a slow and gentle healing process taking place, although he knows it will take some time. Still, he is grateful to realize that the disease can be healed.

Alexei didn't know how long he was faking his sleeping when he got disturbed by one of his maids. Seriously, he didn't even have his own privacy in this world. He thought. "Your Imperial Highness, it's time to wake up for the banquet." She took Alexei into her arms and started dressing him like a peacock that is itchy to the max. He doesn't want to go through this experience again if he can avoid it, but he can't, so he remains silent while watching the maid dress him. He listens to her talk, pretending for him to understand her, even though he actually can.

Alexei was taken from his room by the maid and brought to his mother, who smiled brightly when she saw him arrive. She embraced him and showered his face with kisses, much to his annoyance. Despite this, he continued to express his irritation, flailing his arms in an attempt to stop her, which only made her laugh more.

"Look at our little Alexei, he doesn't want her mother's kisses anymore." She pretended to pout and look at her husband who was beside her watching this all while smiling brightly. The other members of their family were content to only watch the interaction from afar.

"You can kiss him more after the banquet if you want, but we need to go now and present Alexei to the guests." With that, the Tsar of Imperial Russia stood up from his seat and began leading his wife and family to the banquet hall where the nobles and important people of the empire are currently waiting for them.

Banquet Hall

"Damn, these people are really dressed for the occasion, and what is this? Too much perfume." That's what Alexei initially thought when he saw the people in the banquet hall. Even from the door, he can already smell the different perfumes these people spray themselves with and he already feels dizzy by the smell. They all stood up when the Tsar of Imperial Russia arrived with his family. They were all smiling and offered blessings like it was just the cheapest thing in the world. But Alexei knew that behind the smiling faces are snakes ready to pounce when there's an opportunity to strike. Still, he really didn't care much about what they think, he's already satisfied as long as they don't bother him and those he cares about. Does he have someone he cares about in this world? That requires time to think about since he really doesn't feel very much attached to his current family.

Soon, Alexei was being held by his personal maid and paraded like some kind of a saint in front of these people. Alexie memorizes the names of people as they are introduced. He knows this will be useful in the future. He doesn't know much about these historical people, he only knows the names of the relevant organizations or revolutionaries. Who studies history while they are in high school? All he cared about at that time was games.

He played it cool while being paraded, only resorting to staring and sometimes smiling if there is something interesting. But damn, these perfumes are killing his nostrils already. He complained in his mind.

He also met his uncle, Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich of Russia, he looks happy even though he is moved back to third in line to the throne after the birth of Alexei.

It didn't take long for Alexei to fall asleep while being led by his personal maid with the tsar and tsarina throughout the banquet and his father orders his son to be taken back to his room to rest and announces for the real banquet to begin which made the people say "Za zdorovje" and the banquet truly begins with alcohol and presenters being bought which liven the atmosphere more. The party lasted until evening when the tsars and tsarina retired to their rooms for rest.

Alexei didn't know if the banquet was really for him or just an excuse by his father and mother to party when he heard how long the party lasted but he didn't care, at least peace came back after a week. He began cultivating with gusto to gain some strength to at least crawl or stand up soon because it really feels suffocating just lying and waiting for the maids to pick you up. By the speed that he is gaining qi, Alexei estimated that he will be 2 years old by the time he reaches level 1 body cultivation technique which is quite slow by his standard and he can't do anything about it. Still, he is thankful that he can be ahead of other people in this world in terms of strength. While thinking, Alexei thought that he might need 3 years to reach level 2 body cultivation after reaching level 1 body cultivation to reach the strength of an average adult with the body of a child. And that's what Alexei does until he reaches 5 years old, cultivating.

 

[rsc]

August 1900

Tsarina Alexandra was brushing her hair in front of her vanity table, dressed only in her nightgown. Deep in thought, she didn't notice when someone entered the room. It wasn't until she caught an image in the mirror that she realized she wasn't alone. Startled, she jumped up with a yelp and turned to see who it was. To her relief, it was just her husband. She placed a hand on her chest and glared at him. "What were you doing sneaking up on me, husband?"

"You're mistaken, my love. I wasn't sneaking up on you. You looked so deep in thought that you didn't even notice me opening the door," Tsar Nicholas II said with a smile. He gently led his wife back to her chair as he began preparing for sleep.

The tsarina brushed her hair until she was satisfied, then lay down next to her husband. She remained silent and simply rested beside him.

After a while, the Tsar couldn't take the silence anymore, he asked, "So, what were you thinking about?" He turned to face his wife in bed, clearly wanting to chat with her.

"I'm just worried about Alexei," murmured Alexandra. "He's just… I don't know. So quiet? He didn't even play that much when he was younger. I overheard the maids gossiping about our son, saying he was sitting with each foot placed on opposite thighs, his back perfectly straight, and hands resting calmly on his knees. Do you think he's doing that because he's in pain or something? It's not normal for a boy his age to sit like that, is it? I'm afraid there's something wrong with him. You know Alexei; he doesn't talk unless someone asks him a direct question. Even then, he keeps it brief. It's like he's retreating into himself. I'm also concerned that this will spark gossip around the court about our son."

Tsarina Alexandra couldn't shake the persistent knot of anxiety tightening in her chest whenever her thoughts drifted to her only son. Alexei is five years old now, yet he remains a quiet boy. He rarely speaks unless prompted, and even in the presence of other children playing, he tends to keep to himself. Ever since his birth, she proudly shared stories with other noble ladies and friends about how well-behaved he was, only crying when he was hungry or needed to be changed. Now, she finds herself wishing her son would behave more like other children, being noisy and a bit unruly.

When she gave birth to her eldest daughter, Olga, she experienced for the first time how challenging it is to take care of a baby. At first, she felt confused by how different the experience was. She initially thought it was simply because she had a baby girl this time. However, after discussing with her friends and noble ladies at court, she learned that they all found parenting to be hard and exhausting, especially if they didn't have wet nurses. They assured her that there was no difference between boys and girls, both would crawl, walk everywhere, and pick up anything they could hold.

In contrast, her son behaved differently. He would sit quietly when an adult was around, choosing to hold his books instead of playing with the toys scattered nearby.

When she gave birth for the third time, her suspicion that her son was very different was confirmed. Her third child was unruly and would often cry for things she couldn't have, unlike her son, Alexei. Though she loved him dearly, she couldn't shake the thought that there might be some health issue affecting him. She recalled their travels to Scotland, France, and Darmstadt, during which she had asked doctors to examine Alexei. All three doctors confirmed that he was in good health. Even her grandmother, Queen Victoria, scolded her for being overly paranoid. Her grandmother appreciated Alexei for being quiet and well-behaved during their visits. As a mother, she could only hope and pray that her son was truly healthy and that there was nothing wrong with him.

—--

"Hello? Alexandra?" Nicholas II gently nudged his wife when he noticed that she was zoning out after expressing her worries. He often had to comfort her each time she fretted needlessly, despite the doctors confirming numerous times that their son was healthy. She still struggled to let go of her anxiety, especially since her son behaved differently from other children.

"Ah?" His wife was jolted from her thoughts, clearly embarrassed for spacing out right after her rant. He sighed and comforted her. "Don't worry about our son anymore. He's okay. In fact, I was just with him a while ago, and he answered every question I asked perfectly. I think our son is a genius, he loves books and tends to isolate himself. I've heard that's what geniuses do. I just hope he stops isolating himself, as he will need friends when the time comes. Anyway, try not to show this side of yourself to our son, as it might hurt his feelings."

His wife initially struggled with her feelings but eventually nodded. He sighed at this and was about to sleep when his wife asked, "What about the rumors? The maids are already talking about it."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Let's just say our son is using my secret method to become more handsome. Don't you think he looks handsome like me? I'm a bit concerned that he might surpass me in the future. He's also taller for his age. Tsk tsk." His wife smirked at that, and he returned the smirk. "Anyway, are you feeling calm now? Let's get some sleep." His wife eventually nodded. He then shifted to a more comfortable position when he heard his wife's voice again, "I can't sleep. I heard the army is moving into Manchuria."

It seems that sleep will elude him once more. After finding a comfortable position to talk, he began recounting the matter. He never expected that ruling could be so difficult, from the stampede that followed his coronation to the social unrest that ensued. The death of his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, brought him profound grief and sorrow. Fortunately, his wife has been there for him, and the economy is thriving.

November, 1900

The night was unusually dark in the dirty, narrow slum street in St. Petersburg. The barely visible moon in the sky can't penetrate the tightly made houses with roof extensions. At most, the occasional candlelight coming out from the door and window cracks of the dwellings provided some illumination.

A boy, with a hood and mask, calmly navigated the alleys as he headed for his destination. The boy met people with different kinds of features along the way, the most prominent of them all were skeletal figures, so thin and frail that a mere touch might break them.

After a few turns and cautious glances over his shoulder, he finally arrived at his destination, a small, weathered hut nestled between two slightly larger houses. Its door was barely visible in the dim alley, half-hidden by shadows and age. He knocked in a deliberate, coded rhythm. Moments later, a small peephole slid open with a soft scrape, and a pair of eyes peered out. The sound of multiple locks clicking open followed, and the door creaked inward. The boy slipped inside without a word and quickly shut the door behind him.

Alexei took his hood off but left the mask on, he calmly scanned the room. The girl, who opened the door, walked toward the frail boy in the bed. He looked at the corner and saw the twins who stood up after seeing him. He didn't say anything and just stood there. After a while he uttered "Let's begin."

He took the sack behind him and gestured to the girl to take it. Bread, some apples, and a few leftover foods he took from the kitchen of Winter Palace are within. The twins, Sergey and Ivan began setting up the table with papers, dip pens, fountain pens, and books. Alexei sat beside the table and began checking the papers writing, what he saw was crooked letters barely forming words and another with misspellings, barely readable. He didn't say anything, just picked up a book and handed it to the girl who returned with her youngest brother, Petrov, after storing the food. "Anna, begin reading from chapter three." With that, Alexei began multitasking. Listening to Anna's reading while correcting some pronunciation and teaching the twins with Petrov proper writing.

After 2 hours of reading and writing studies, he began teaching them self defense. He didn't dare teach them extreme skills, these kids are still developing, so he had them practice the basic approach of how to defend themselves if they can't outrun their opponents. 1 hour later, he stopped the training and told them to sleep after wiping the sweat off their bodies. He gestured for Anna to follow him. After walking to a corner, he sat down and gestured for Anna to do the same.

"Any news?" What Alexei needed the most is information, not the general, exaggerated and censored news everyone can read in the newspaper, but the news people will often dismiss in high society. The kind of news the lowest of the lows shared, beggars, pickpockets, drunkards, washerwomen and stable boys. They share not headlines, but fragments when pulled together can unravel far greater.

Anna, who is already adept at gathering this seemingly unimportant information, began her report. "Mother Terisiva next door got injured while…." Alexei just sat there and listened without interrupting her. And when she finished. Alexei stood up and uttered a "Thank you, I'm going." He was about to reach the door when Anna behind him said "Wait. I forgot one last piece of information." He gestured for her to continue "Someone is handing out pamphlets south of the slums a while ago. I tried to get one but they're already out by the time I was there."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds before telling her "Get one next time, and find out who they are without asking the obvious. I believe you're already good at this. You're doing great Anna" He patted her shoulders and walked out. Alexei didn't see the small smile radiating from the face of Anna.

While walking home, Alexei thought about what got into him when he took these four brats under him. It started 3 months ago when he decided to visit the city at night after reaching level 2 body cultivation. With a hood and mask on, he slips the guards and expertly maneuvered the walls of the palace. After that, he's out, walking towards the city center where people can be seen rushing to where they were going. He walked around the city center, noting some notable sites and streets. It took him a while to cover all the areas. When he checked it was still early, he decided to visit the slums. There, he found people toiling the night out for scraps. Whores calling for customers, children looking for pickpocket targets, gangs bullying someone and elderly lying beside the streets waiting to die. The sight didn't shock Alexei, he is used to this. In fact, the view is nothing like the savagery of the cultivation world.

When he moved from alleys to alleys, he arrived at the damp site. Children loitering around, looking for things that they could exchange for coins. They seemed careful enough not to intrude into each other's territory, but a large group of youngsters caught his eyes. Ganging up on four children. When the youngsters were done, they left. The four children helped each other stand up, noticeably brothers and sisters. They patted their clothes and checked each other's wounds and bruises. It seems they were used to it, but one of them is still crying from the beating. The girl, who appears to be the eldest of the group, hugged the boy who was crying. The other two, held up their tears. Alexei watched their interaction from afar as they eventually sat down and touched their stomachs. Obviously starving.

Fascinated by their vulnerability and weakness. Alexei was brought back when he was still innocent in the cultivation world. Due to his defenseless and powerless nature, was easily bullied and humiliated. Weakness has no place in that environment. That's why he easily held onto the man who helped him in his darkest moment. To the point of being used and betrayed by that man without a second thought.

Alexei chuckled ruefully to himself and decided it would be them. He had been thinking of finding his own subordinates outside of the palace, he just didn't expect to work on it so soon. He would've preferred grown men and literate, but they'll do. He just had to teach them letters and basic arithmetic. Their current situation made them easy to manipulate, especially for those who recognized the opportunity and were unburdened by conscience.

He was sure of one thing, though. He would not become the man, whom he hated the most.

Alexei snapped back to reality as he turned into a narrow alley, only to find a group of rough-looking figures loitering in the shadows, eyes sharp, posture tense, the kind that invited trouble without needing a reason. Fortunately, they didn't notice him. Without hesitation, he slipped away. He knew better than to test his luck. As capable as he was for his age, he was still just a child.

When he was out of the slums. He moved directly in the direction of the palace. "It's time to go home." He thought.

After arriving at his room, he cleaned himself thoroughly. While drying himself, Alexei looked at the bruises from the training. He didn't know what kind of disease had been plaguing his body but with just a light bump, bruises would appear on his skin. When he got injured and cut his fingers, two and a half years ago, blood would flow continuously even though he had already applied first aid. Thankfully, he was alone or the maids would freak out and report it to his parents. He didn't like being watched all the time because he needed to cultivate. It would hinder his progress.

He channeled his qi on the bruises, after a few minutes, they were gone. He thought about what would become of him if he can't cultivate in this world. This disease will be the death of him. And he might not reach old age, again. Fortunately, he was sure that by the time he was 10 years old. This disease will completely heal.

While he lay down in his bed. He muses about his circumstances. He was sure that this Alexei was the youngest of the children of the last emperor of Russia. He knew at least that much. But now he is the eldest. His sisters, born after him, still followed their original names from his first life. It brought him mixed feelings, he didn't know how to react to them, but he will still do as expected of him as an elder brother, protect them.

He remembered the way his mother looked at him with concern. She would always ask if he felt discomfort anywhere, as if she had a modern monitor that could alert her whenever his illness might act up. But he never let her find out the truth. He would never reveal his bruises and wounds. He had seen it happen to others, the way the sick were no longer treated as people but as fragile objects to be protected, monitored, and pitied. He couldn't stand it. To her, it would be love and care, but to him, it felt like a cage. He didn't blame her, though, she was his mother. Nonetheless, he wouldn't give her any reason to confine him. He loves his freedom so much that he won't let anyone take it from him, even his family. And what's worse, to have a tsarevich who is sickly spread throughout the empire, that would be a disaster.

His father, well, from what he observed, is a family oriented man. In terms of ruling though? Indecisive, passive and naive. What could he expect from a man who brought his empire down and had his own family killed? Nothing. Nevertheless, he is still his father. Judging him felt almost cruel. Maybe it was never truly his fault, but the consequences were real, he can see it from his nightly experience outside the palace. And now, here he was, trying to piece together how it all happened… and if all of this could ever be made right. He would not focus on saving the empire, though. If it could be saved, good. But if not, he would prioritize himself and his family first.

When he asked himself in the past if he had someone he cares about in this world. Apparently, he has now. The power of family bonds really runs deep whoever or wherever you are. He just hopes it won't ruin him. If he dies young as well in this new life. He would give himself an epithet, "The man age could never claim, but circumstances always could." If he ever lived again, that is.

He fell asleep then after.

—-

The next morning….
The maid moved with deliberate slowness through the silent halls of the palace, her footsteps muffled by thick carpets. Beside her, a small girl walked excitedly, clutching a small size stuffed toy to her chest, her gaze fixed on the door towards the end of the hallway.

At last, they reached their destination and came to a halt before a tall, ornate door. The maid raised a hand and knocked softly, her voice gentle but clear.

"Your Highness, I'm coming in."

She pushed the door open with practiced care, but before she could enter the room, the little girl suddenly bolted past her and slipped inside.

The maid let out a quiet sigh, the corners of her mouth twitching with resignation. Without a word, she followed the child into the room.

The little girl ran into the bed after she saw it, climbed, and then crawled towards the sleeping figure. She looked at the sleeping boy for a moment before lightly tapping the boy's cheek. ""Browther, wakey browther."

Meanwhile, the maid walked to the window and drew back the heavy curtains, allowing a soft glow to filter through the windows.

Alexei, who was pretending to sleep, had no choice but to open his eyes when the light reached his face. He looked at the girl who was about to give him a light slap, smiled and sat up. He reached out and ruffled the girl's hair who was giggling after she saw him woke up.

"What is Olga doing here, Anya?" He said to the maid who finished drawing all the curtains.

"She insisted on following me after she heard I'm going to wake you, Your Highness." Anya said and then added. "Her Imperial Majesty requests your presence at breakfast"

"Alright." With that said, he reached out to the toys displayed beside the bed and handed them to his sister "Play with these, Olga. I'm going to wash up first." He ruffled his sister's hair one last time before going to the wash room.

Minutes later, he came back refreshed, dressed in his most comfortable clothes, free of the elaborated styles and stiff fabrics that marked his station. The weight of formality doesn't appeal to him. As long as it's not a formal occasion, he would wear his comfortable clothes, ordered and requested from the royal seamstress.

"Come, Olga." He reached out his hand to his little sister, which she happily took. They left the room and made their way to the dining hall, followed by Anya.

Dining hall…
His mother narrowed her eyes the moment she saw what her son was wearing as he entered the hall. Alexei paid it no mind and greeted them with ease.

"Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother."

He guided her sister, Olga to her seat, then walked over to his one-year-old sister, Tatiana, and gently pinched her cheek. She reached out her arms, clearly wanting to be carried, but he acted as if he didn't see it and continued on to his assigned seat, settling in quietly to wait for breakfast.

His father, seeing that everyone had arrived, said, "Let's pray." He led the prayer himself.

Alexei bowed his head as well, joining in silently. But to whom was he praying? He wasn't sure. Still, he offered a quiet prayer of gratitude, to whatever force is responsible for his repeated reincarnation.

After his father finished the prayer, they began to eat. Alexei took a small portion of everything on the table. He had a big appetite, but he never ate much in front of his family. Instead, he would usually slip into the kitchen after a formal breakfast or dinner to ask for another meal from the chef. By this point, the chef was already well acquainted with Alexei.

He was enjoying his breakfast when his father spoke.

"Last time, on your birthday, you asked to join the hunting retreat in the Bialowieza Forest this spring. Your mother agreed, but you won't be firing any guns. Is that acceptable to you?"

Alexei offered a rare smile and replied, "Yes, Father." Then he turned to his mother. "Thank you, Mother."

His mother, Alexandra, unaccustomed to seeing her son smile, felt a quiet joy rise within her. She silently praised herself for making such a wise decision. Smiling, she said, "As long as you're happy, my son. But you must listen to the people that we will assign to you during the hunt. And you" She looked pointedly at her husband "don't let yourself be swayed if Alexei tries to charm you into letting him fire a rifle. I know you, one pleading look from him and you'll give in."

His mother took a sip of her tea and continued, "Look at your son. You let him choose and request his own clothes from the royal seamstress, and now look what's happened, he hardly wears anything proper anymore. He's only five years old, and you're already spoiling him far too much."

Nicholas was momentarily speechless, quietly wondering how the conversation had shifted so quickly from their son to himself. Still, he smiled and replied, "Of course, a rifle is dangerous. I won't let him fire it, even if he cries."

Not that he would, Nicholas mused. His son hadn't cried since he was two.

"Good," his mother said, satisfied, and resumed eating.

After that brief exchange, they continued their meal in silence. Once they had finished, each quietly sipped their preferred refreshments, until his mother suddenly spoke again.

"Alexei, I'm hosting a party in the palace garden this afternoon, and you will be joining me. The other ladies will be bringing their children, and I expect you to play with them. Is that understood?"

She placed particular emphasis on the last part, clearly leaving no room for refusal.

It seemed his mother was preparing to introduce Alexei to the court, positioning him, perhaps, as part of her growing influence. He let out a quiet sigh, then replied, "Yes, Mother."

"Why are you sighing? You act far too much like an adult already, Alexei, and clearly, you are not," his mother chided. "You need to have friends. They'll be important to you in the future, especially if they are loyal."

Before he could respond with his agreement, she continued, "Oh, Your father and I found tutors and attendants for you. Since you love books so much, you might as well begin your lessons. As for your attendants, they'll accompany you on your daily activities and protection. I'll introduce you to them after the party this afternoon."

His mother simply wouldn't stop talking. But deep down, Alexei was secretly pleased. He was eager to start learning, and this would give him a reason to explain why he could eventually read so fluently. Until now, he had only been pretending to look at the pages of the book. As for his attendants. He just hopes they won't be so nosy in the future.

"Thank you mother." He replied.

His mother was about to speak again when a knock sounded at the door. Boris, his father's personal aide, entered.

"I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Your Imperial Majesties," he said with a bow, then walked over to his father and whispered something in his ear.

When Boris finished, his father grew momentarily thoughtful, then rose from his seat.

"I'm sorry, my dear," he said, addressing his wife. "It seems I have to attend to some matters of the state."

He offered her an apologetic smile as he stood, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll see you this evening."

One by one, he kissed each of the children on the forehead, Alexei included, before making his way to the door and quietly leaving the room.

After his father was gone, his mother rose from her seat and turned to the maids. "We're finished here. Please take the children to the nursery. And Anya, make sure Alexei is properly prepared for the party this afternoon."

With that, she bent to kiss each of the children, lingering a bit longer with Tatiana, who was reaching up to be carried. She had no choice but to comfort the baby for a while before finally leaving the room to prepare for the party.

Alexei felt a quiet sense of relief once his parents had gone about their own affairs. He was never quite comfortable being the center of attention during conversation. He followed his sisters to the nursery and played with them for a while before turning to Anya.

"I'm tired. I want to sleep." He told her.

Anya gently guided him to his room. Once she was gone, he waited for a moment to be sure, then sat cross-legged in a lotus position and began to cultivate. He still had a few hours before lunch, and the afternoon party.

 

[rsc]

Alexei made his way toward the palace garden, wearing his semi formal attire for the occasion. Even in semi formal, his attire felt stiff and uncomfortable. He would've preferred his comfortable clothes if his mother would allow it. "No matter, as long as he can find an excuse to leave early, that would be great." He thought.
It did not take long for Alexei to arrive. Guided by Anya, he proceeded directly to his mother, who was surrounded by noble ladies engaged in light conversation and polite gossip.

"Good afternoon, Mother," He said, offering a respectful nod. After a brief pause, he turned to the assembled ladies and added. "Good afternoon, ladies."

After that, he looked at her mother again. Not bothering to respond to their smiles and polite return greetings.

She gave him a brief, scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly as she checked for any imperfections in his attire. Once assured that everything was as it should be, she gave a subtle nod and began presenting him to the ladies gathered around her. Alexei quietly remembers every single one of them. Especially the Montenegrin princesses. They were quite popular in the court. He heard maids talking about them.

Following the introduction, Alexei was instructed by his mother to join the other children on the garden lawn. The lawn appeared to have been specially prepared for the occasion, with various entertainers and an assortment of toys scattered around for the children to enjoy.

He made his way to a quiet corner and observed the activities. Some children were playing Gorodki, while others were engaged in card games. The entertainers performed magic tricks to the delight of the crowd. A few children, too proud of their aristocratic background, chose instead to draw or write their letters.

Meanwhile, as Alexei stood watching the entertainers from a quiet corner of the garden, four children, Sergei, Elena, Marina, and Roman, huddled together behind a neatly trimmed hedge, whispering nervously.

Marina said anxiously. "We've been standing here for ages. Someone has to go first."

Sergei, the eldest among them, replied. "You do it, Marina. You're always talking."

Marina nearly shouted. "Not to a Tsarevich!"

Elena, after a moment of thought, suggested. "Maybe we should all go together?"

"Fine." Sergei said with a sigh. "We'll go together. I'll do the talking."

Roman, clearly too young to follow everything, simply listened quietly to his sister Marina and their cousins.

They all nodded in agreement, formed a shaky line, and slowly made their way toward Alexei.

Alexei had already noticed them from the corner of his eye but remained still, pretending to be focused on a juggler tossing wooden pins.

As the group approached, Sergei stepped forward and gave a slight bow.

"Hello, Your Highness." He said.

Alexei turned to look at them, his expression unreadable. He let the silence stretch, and the children shifted nervously under his gaze.

After a brief pause, Alexei finally replied. "Hi."

The awkward silence returned for a moment, until Elena stepped forward with a burst of courage.

"Would you like to play with us? We're about to start a game of Durak." She said brightly.

Alexei glanced across the lawn toward his mother, who was watching him intently. Beside her, the Montenegrin princesses smiled encouragingly.

"Ah." He thought. "These must be their children."

"All right." Alexei agreed. He might as well play with them than getting an earful from his mother later.

The children broke into relieved smiles, exchanging quick glances of triumph, proud to have completed their little diplomatic mission.

They made their way to another corner where the table and cards were already set up. After taking their seats, they began to introduce themselves to one another, including Alexei.

But there was only one problem.

"I don't know how to play." Alexei admitted to his newfound playmates. He had never played the game before, especially since this was his first time interacting with other children, aside from his sisters, of course.

"Don't worry, we'll teach you." Sergei said encouragingly.

Elena and Marina chimed in as well, assuring him that it was very easy.

Roman, meanwhile, remained quiet, seemingly shy.

This was the first time Alexei interacted with other noble children. In the past, he would simply sit quietly, absorbed in a book, ignoring everyone around him. Even on his birthdays, he would do the same. Now that he thought about it, isolating himself might have drawn even more attention. People at court might call him strange or use other unkind words to describe him. Gossip and whispers would inevitably follow.

But there was nothing he could do about it, that was simply the way he was. He couldn't force himself to do things he didn't want to do.

Nevertheless, it seemed he needed to do the things he disliked, just this once.

He looked at the children around him and thought, "They'll do." He might as well befriend them, at least on the surface. They would make a good cover. Besides, it seemed they were also being forced to befriend him. He might as well use that to his advantage. Who knows? Maybe they could actually become good friends.

With that decided, he began interacting with them more, asking questions about the game and about the other children present. They seemed to forget that they were there on a mission assigned by their parents and simply started playing, as children naturally do.

It didn't take long for them to get bored and decided to play another game. Alexei followed along, and when he admitted once again that he didn't know how to play, they began teaching him. Soon, they were all enjoying themselves, completely losing track of time.

Not Alexei, of course. While he did enjoy the game, he remained attentive to their surroundings.

He noticed that his mother looked pleased, frequently glancing in their direction. The Montenegrin princesses also seemed delighted that their children had befriended him, while the other noble ladies appeared to regret not instructing their own children to do the same.

"It looks like I made the right decision." He mused.

When he thought that he played enough with his new friends. He excused himself. Telling them that he needed to go back to his mother. They were reluctant to see him go at first. But eventually agreed.

He began walking back to his mother but was soon met by his sister, who came running to greet him, clearly delighted to see her favorite and only brother. He casually embraced her for a moment before gently leading her back to their mother.

"Mother, I'm hungry" He gently rubs his stomach to express his hunger.

"Oh my, come son, there is a lot of food in here." His mother led him to the table and asked Anya to attend to his son.

While he sat there waiting for the food delivered by Anya. Other noble ladies began talking to him but he just smiled and sometimes gave a silly laugh like other children.

It didn't take long for the food to arrive and he began eating. He eats while listening to their conversation, secretly of course.

After he finished eating, he waited for a moment before standing up and walking over to his mother. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered quietly, "I've soiled myself, Mother."

His mother, startled at first, quickly recovered and called for Anya to take Alexei to his room and get him cleaned up.

And with that, he was finally free.

Once in the room, he insisted on cleaning up himself, much to Anya's amusement. Not that this was the first time. Still, she waited patiently outside the washroom for him to finish.

When he emerged, now dressed in more comfortable clothes, he said. "Anya, I'm tired. I don't want to go back."

"Your Highness, your mother will be angry if you don't return to the party." she replied, clearly worried. She didn't want to be scolded either, bringing Alexei back to the party was her responsibility.

"Tell Mother that I'm going to sleep for a while to rest. I'm sure it'll be fine." Alexei had no desire to return, there were just too many people.

"But, Your Highness, you just took a nap this morning." Anya protested. She just doesn't get it, does she? Alexei thought for a moment.

"Then tell Mother I might've eaten something bad. Say my stomach is acting up again, and I don't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of everyone. She'll understand."

Anya hesitated but eventually nodded. "All right. But you must stay in your room until I return."

"Don't worry, Anya. I'm just going to take another nap." Alexei assured her.

She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and quietly left the room.

Finally, he had a moment to himself. Oh, right... I still have to meet with my tutors and attendants after the party, he thought with a sigh, then laid down to rest.

—----

It didn't take long before the time came to meet his new tutors and attendants. He made his way to where they were gathered and found his mother there, clearly displeased that he hadn't returned to the party, but she kept her frustration to herself.

He glanced around the room at the assembled group. He didn't recognize all of them, so he waited patiently for his mother to make the introductions.

After taking a moment to compose herself, his mother stood up and began.

"Alexei, these are the gentlemen who will be part of your attendants from this day forward. They are here to guide you, serve you, and ensure your well-being."

She gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man in naval uniform, his bearing still that of a disciplined sailor. "This is Klimenty Grigorievich Nagorny. He will be your personal guard. He will accompany you wherever necessary."

Nagorny bowed respectfully, his expression solemn. Alexei just nodded.

Next, she motioned to a middle aged man with sharp features and observant eyes.
"This is Ivan Dmitrievich Sednev. He will serve as your personal attendant, alongside Anya.

Sednev offered a polite smile and a short bow. Alexei just nodded again.

"Now, to your tutors."

Her mother gestured to a serious-looking man in spectacles, his suit crisp and his hands clasped behind his back. "This is Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky. He will be your mathematics tutor. I trust you'll give him your full attention."

Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky gave a curt nod. "I look forward to working with you, Your Highness."

"And this," she continued, motioning to a slightly older gentleman with thoughtful eyes and a scholarly air, "is Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov, who will be teaching you Russian language and literature."

Petrov smiled gently. "It will be a privilege to teach you, Your Imperial Highness."

Alexei gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, keeping his posture composed. Despite the stiff introductions, he studied each man carefully, already considering how best to deal with them, work with them, or avoid them if needed. One thing was certain, life would no longer be as quiet as it had been.

"Thank you, Mother," Alexei said softly.

"Now go on. I still have matters to attend to. Your lessons will begin tomorrow," she replied, already making her way toward the door. She had likely given them their instructions beforehand.

Once she was out of sight, Alexei turned to face his new companions and gave a polite nod.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Alexei. Please take care of me."

They smiled at that. Thankful to have a polite Tsarevich to attend to.

—--

Days passed, and winter arrived. Life had become slow and monotonous. He spent his mornings and afternoons with his tutors, following a rigid routine. Wherever he went, he was always accompanied by Nagorny and Sednev. Thankfully, they don't keep watch over him while he sleeps. As it will hinder his nightly escapades into the city.

Alexei only went out once a week now, due to the winter. During those trips, he would check on their progress and bring food. He was quite worried that their small hut might be ransacked, especially with people in the slums seeking shelter to survive the cold.

That's why, during his last visit, he had instructed them to run and hide if anything happened, and to wait for his return to deal with any intruders.

He didn't mind getting rid of a few pests, if it came to that.

It felt like a lifetime ago since he last killed someone. Back then, taking a life had become second nature, an instinct honed not out of cruelty, but survival. He had lived in a world where hesitation meant death, where trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, and mercy was often a fatal mistake. Each kill had carved something out of him, piece by piece, until there was little left but purpose and caution. Now, in the stillness of palace life, those memories felt like distant echoes, unreal and weightless. Yet the instinct remained. He didn't regret what he'd done. Regret was a privilege for men who hadn't been forced to fight for every breath.

—----

February 1901

Anna was currently cleaning their hut. She knew that their benefactor, or whoever he truly was, could arrive at any moment to check on their progress once more. She wanted to at least present their modest hut as clean and orderly, no matter how weathered or worn it looked.

These past few months still felt like a dream. Just having food to eat each day was something she never thought she'd experience again. The gnawing hunger that used to haunt her and her siblings had been replaced by warm meals and the comfort of knowing they were safe, if only for now.

She didn't know why he helped them. She thought about the time when they met. They didn't know what to do back then. Their parents had just died, and they had no aunts or uncles to turn to for help. It felt as if her life had ended right there. She had three younger siblings to feed, and after their parents passed, they had only managed to gather enough food to last about fifteen days. It didn't take long for that to run out.

She led her siblings to the waste dump, where they scavenged for anything that could be traded for a few coins, rags, bones, glass and bits of metals. They managed to survive for a month by selling scraps. For a brief moment, they thought they could keep going like that, that maybe things were getting better.

But trouble came quickly. A group of older boys warned them to stop scavenging in the area, claiming it as their territory. She refused. She knew how important that work was for her siblings' survival. So they returned anyway. That's when they were spotted, and that was the first time they were beaten.

Still, they endured. They tried other ways to earn money for food, but no one would hire them. They begged on the streets, but no one gave them anything. They were starving. She didn't know what else to do.

Desperate, they went back to the dump site once more, hoping to find enough scraps to get through another day. But this time, they were caught again, and the beating was worse.

At that moment, she thought it might be better to just die.

And then, he appeared.

He walked towards them.

He asked them if they wanted food just after they were beaten. He stood in front of them as if he weren't a child just like them. She knows at least that much judging by his height. He looked at least 8 years old. But he gave something like a towering figure as if they were safe if they clung into him.

She hesitated at first. But her siblings said yes right away, as if it wasn't strange for someone to offer help without asking for anything in return. What made it even more unsettling was that he wore a mask that completely hid his face.

But hunger won out. So they accepted.

She asked him what he wanted in return, but he simply said he needed people, and that they would be it.

She remained cautious at first, keeping her siblings at a distance from him. Only she interacted with him directly. If he turned out to be dangerous, she was prepared to sacrifice herself to protect them.

But the food kept coming. Day after day, more than they had ever dared to hope for. And slowly, her suspicion gave way to gratitude.

Then, he began teaching them letters and numbers, something they had never even dreamed of learning. When she asked why he was teaching them, he answered bluntly: "You'd be useless if you don't know how to read and write."

She wanted to get angry. The word useless stung. But the life he had given them weighed more heavily than the insult. So she said nothing.

He didn't stop at just teaching them letters and numbers. He also taught them how to defend themselves. But he always emphasized one thing, If you can run, then run.

She didn't understand why he was teaching them that, but she figured that having more skills was better than none.

What puzzled her most was how someone who looked like a child could know so much. She wanted to ask, but ultimately decided against it. They were already receiving so much from him, and prying into his secrets might only anger their strange benefactor.

It didn't take long before he asked something of them. He wanted them to listen to the gossip and news circulating around the slums, which wasn't much, but it was something. They can finally do something for him. So she and her siblings began paying attention to every bit of chatter, whether small or significant, and reported everything to their benefactor whenever he visited.

He also taught them how to listen carefully and how to ask questions that didn't sound intrusive, but, if answered, could get them closer to the information they needed.

Yet again, another skill their benefactor possessed. She couldn't help but wonder how he knew so much. Maybe he's a witch, she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea.She believed he was a good person, judging by how much he had helped them.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden knock on the door.

"I'll take it." Petrov, her younger brother, called out excitedly as he rushed toward the door before she could even respond. Her brother didn't even check who it was through the peephole and directly unlocked the door.

"Petrov, wait!" She started, her voice sharp with alarm, but it was already too late.

The door burst open with a loud crash. A heavy boot kicked it wide, sending the boy flying backward with a sickening thud. He slammed into the floor and let out a pained cry, clutching his side.

"Petrov!" She screamed. Her heart slammed in her chest as two unfamiliar men stepped over the threshold.

They were both middle-aged and scruffy, reeking of alcohol and smoke. The one in front had a crooked nose and sunken cheeks, while the other, broader man carried a rusted bat slung over his shoulder. Their eyes scanned the small room like predators sizing up helpless prey.

"Oh, only kids? We're lucky." The man in front sneered, smirking. "This'll be easy."

"Hey, brats." The one with the bat barked, waving the weapon in a wide arc. "This place belongs to us now. Get out, or we'll throw you out."

She barely heard him. All she could see was Petrov curled on the floor, crying softly, one arm trembling as he tried to push himself up.

Without thinking, she darted past the intruders and knelt beside her brother. "It's okay. I'm here." She whispered, inspecting him quickly for injuries. Relief mixed with panic. He was hurt, but not badly.

But her defiance had caught the attention of the man with the bat.

"Oh, so you're not scared?" He jeered. "Looks like I'll have to make an example out of you."

He raised the bat, his eyes flashing with cruel delight.

"Leave her alone!" Came a cry, and in a blur, her twin brothers hurled themselves at the attacker. They grabbed at the bat, trying to wrench it from his grip.

But they were no match for a grown man. With one powerful motion, he yanked the bat free and drove his fist into the stomach of one twin, then the face of the other. The boys crumpled to the floor, gasping and dazed.

"Haha! What courageous little rats." The man laughed. "Let's have some fun with them, Orlov."

The other man, Orlov, grinned and kicked one of the boys in the ribs. "Haven't had a good beating in days. This'll be fun."

"No, stop! Please!" She shouted, standing protectively in front of her brothers. Her voice cracked with desperation, tears brimming in her eyes.

But they didn't care. The man with the bat raised it again, this time aiming for her. She braced herself, expecting the blow, her mind racing with a single thought. "This is it. We're going to die here."

They had no way out. The only door was blocked, and the windows were too small to escape through. She had no weapons, no strength to fight back. All she could do was shield her siblings with her body and hope the pain wouldn't last long. Then everything changed. There was a shadow at the doorway.

The first man, the one who had threatened them, suddenly stiffened. His mouth fell open, eyes wide with confusion as he reached behind his neck. A knife protruded from the base of his skull.

Before he could even fall, Orlov turned in shock, but another knife embedded itself cleanly into his neck. He stumbled forward, collapsed onto the floor beside his friend, and didn't move again. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, spreading across the old wooden floor.

She gasped, frozen in place. Her eyes darted to the doorway. There he was. Alexei.

He stood there, calm and composed, as if the violence he had just committed were nothing more than a routine. The fading light from outside glinted off the edge of his throwing knives as he stepped forward. His expression was hidden behind the mask, but the fury in his eyes was unmistakable.

No words were spoken.

She stared at him, overwhelmed, by shock, by relief, by the horror of what had just happened. Her siblings whimpered behind her, and she could hear Petrov trying to sit up, crying softly.

Alexei approached, retrieving the knives from the intruders and wiping the blood from the blades with a piece of cloth. Once cleaned, he slipped them back into his coat. Then he knelt beside the injured twins and Petrov. He didn't speak, just checked their pulses with quick, methodical movements. His hands were precise, practiced and surprisingly gentle.

"You're brothers are okay." He said at last, voice low and even.

She blinked rapidly, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't move.

He looked at her then, eyes steady. "I told you to keep the door locked."

"I…. I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn't scold her. He stood and glanced at the bodies, then turned toward the door. "I'll take care of this. Stay inside and watch over them."

She didn't say anything. She simply watched as he dragged one of the bodies out of the house, then returned a few minutes later to remove the other.

In her daze, she had forgotten that her brothers were still injured. A soft whimper behind her snapped her back to reality. When she turned and saw her brothers crying from the pain, guilt washed over her. How could she have forgotten? She silently scolded herself, then quickly rushed to tend to them.

Alexei returned after an hour. She didn't say anything and simply continued cleaning the house. There was still blood on the floor, and she needed to scrub it quickly before it stained the wood.

"I dumped them in an abandoned warehouse not far from here." He said as he took a seat on one of the stools. "We're lucky, your neighbors either didn't hear anything or just didn't care. Doesn't matter. You're all safe for now. But make sure you clean the blood on the floor thoroughly, just in case someone comes to check. No one will suspect you then."

He paused, then scanned the room again.

"So, how are your brothers?" He asked.

"They're okay now. They fell asleep right after I cleaned their wounds." She replied, grabbing a scrub brush and kneeling to continue cleaning the blood from the floor.

"Why didn't you run?" He asked, clearly wanting a clearer picture of what had happened.

"We couldn't. They were blocking the door, and everything happened too fast. I couldn't stop Petrov from opening it." She said while scrubbing, then added softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He said after a moment. She couldn't tell if he meant it or was simply trying to ease her guilt. Then he continued, his tone more decisive.

"You and your brothers need to move to a new house this spring. Don't worry about the money, I'll handle it. In the meantime, find a place here in the slum that's bigger than this and can be secured tightly from the inside. That's the minimum requirement."

Anna opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he didn't need to go this far, but nothing came out. The words died in her throat. Deep down, she knew the truth, they had no choice but to rely on him now. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest, and after everything she had witnessed tonight, she felt too numb to push back. All she could do was follow his lead.

She glanced at her brothers, still asleep. Please, she thought, let them be okay after seeing those dead bodies.

"…Okay." She murmured, eyes lowered.

He gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it remained hidden behind his mask.

"You adapted quickly, Anna," He said, watching her closely. "You didn't even panic, didn't throw up when you saw the dead bodies."

She lifted her gaze and managed a tired smile, too drained to tell whether it was meant as praise or something else. Either way, she appreciated the acknowledgement more than she expected.

Turning away, he stepped toward the door, scanning the broken frame. "Once you finish cleaning, get some rest. I'll fix this."

She looked at the blood-stained floor, then back at him. "Mmm." She replied quietly, genuinely grateful he was staying a little longer to help.

It didn't take long for them to finish. While she scrubbed away the last of the blood, he worked silently on the door and locks. His movements were efficient, almost like it was second nature.

Once he was done, he straightened and brushed the dust from his sleeves. "This spring, I'll be gone for over a month, maybe more. When I return, we'll buy the house, if you've found one that meets the requirements."

Anna nodded, barely holding back a yawn. "I'll look around."

He studied her for a moment, maybe reading the exhaustion in her face, then stepped back toward the door.

"Looks like there won't be any lessons tonight. Goodbye, then.

He closed the door. With that, he disappeared into the quiet night.

Anna stared at the closed door for a moment, then she turned away and moved slowly through the dim room, careful not to wake her brothers. Every muscle in her body ached, not just from the scrubbing or the tension, but from the weight of everything that happened that night.

By the time she lay down on her thin mattress, the room had gone still again. She pulled the blanket over herself, listening to the soft, steady breathing of her siblings.

Her eyes drifted to the ceiling.

"Please" she prayed silently. "Just let everything be better tomorrow."

And with that final thought, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

 

[TrahKartolo]

Damn, a prince and a pauper. Makes for a good romance? Or maybe tragedy. That fits the grim tone of Alexei, I think.
Would he teach Anna and her brothers some secret of cultivation? Or leave her as normal, if highly talented, spy-adjutant? Only time will tell.
Anyway, would Alexei do something about those SRs infesting the Russian country-side?
No matter what he do, he couldn't move forward without removing these hidden danger first. They'll just be patsies for outside powers, just like how Lenin was a collaborator for Germany.

 

[rsc]

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.

 

[Twilight Kira93]

I would like to see more classic cultivation with swords or sorcery than something like gun cultivation. Cultivation is the mortal to godhood novel that run around qi/magic, self discipline, swords, spears, martial art techniques and spiritual pharmaceuticals. I would like to see Alexis trying to recover his cultivation than accepting his new lot in life, that's not how a cultivator behave. They never stop challenging heaven and earth.
Reading about a cultivator in the real world inside an historical family like the Romans give me goosebumps. Watching him returning to superhuman leaves and the reaction of the people and the colture around him and the massacre he could unleash to the communist revolution.

But gun cultivation? Basically developing a magic gun or flying? I have already seen that in Tanya the evil, not invested in seeing it again. Not that cultivation with guns would be the same but let's be real it boils down to magic bullets and I find it boring. But oh well...it's your story.

Anyway great concept. Cultivation in historical world give me chills. Wish more chapters.

 

[OtherGuy]

No sorry

 

[Twilight Kira93]

Does anyone knows how to change your username?

Click to shrink...

Click your avatar. go to 'Account Details'. Change username there

 

[rsc]

Click your avatar. go to 'Account Details'. Change username there

Click to shrink...

Thank you.

 

[rsc]

Spring 1901
The forest of Białowieża was eerily quiet, the stillness broken only by the occasional chirp of a distant bird. A small crowd stood scattered among the trees, watching intently as a man leveled his hunting rifle at a grazing elk. No one dared to speak or even shuffle their feet, fearing they might break his concentration.

A sharp crack split the silence, bang! followed a heartbeat later by the startled cry of the elk. The animal bolted, passing through the undergrowth, its life clearly not claimed by the shot.

"Well," his father said in a low voice, tinged with disappointment, "it seems I've missed my target."

"Let's find another prey," he added curtly, signaling to his men to track another game.

Turning back toward Alexei, his father straightened his posture and declared with a faint smirk, "That was only the first shot of the hunt, merely a warm-up. Don't think for a moment your father is anything less than an expert marksman."

Alexei met his father's boast with an amused smile. Missing the first shot was already unfortunate, but the sting lay in the silent reactions of the gathered nobles. A few exchanged quick glances, their lips pressed tight as if holding back a smirk, others busied themselves adjusting their gloves or clearing their throats, feigning indifference.

Alexei could almost hear the unspoken jests, how the Tsar's opening strike had failed. Yet, as etiquette dictated, none dared to speak openly. In the presence of nobility, mockery often came dressed in politeness.

He paid little attention to the others, staying close to his father to carefully watch how the rifle was handled. Firearms were unfamiliar to him, making him a complete novice, but curiosity burned in his mind. He was already thinking of ways to persuade his father to at least let him hold the weapon and examine it. The sooner he could study its mechanics, the sooner he could test whether his enhancements might improve it, adding to his arsenal for the difficult days ahead.

His thoughts wandered to the revolver strapped to his father's side. The idea of wielding one in his right hand while gripping a knife in his left was intriguing. If integrated properly into his combat style, it could greatly enhance his close-quarters capabilities.

Memories from his first life surfaced, scenes from films where the protagonist dominated both hand-to-hand encounters and short-range firefights. The techniques in those movies were crude compared to the refined martial skills of the cultivation world, but the concept had potential. If he could develop a method of blending handguns with knives and other melee weapons, the result could be formidable. But for now, he would test the rifle first.

It didn't take long before fresh prey was found. Guided by the stalkers, they slipped like shadows through the undergrowth, the crunch of leaves muted under careful steps. The forest loomed around them, thick trunks and twisted branches framing a corridor of silence.

Alexei kept close to his father, the tsar's imposing figure moving ahead with quiet confidence. Behind them trailed attendants and aides, their eyes fixed forward, their breaths shallow.

Through a gap in the brush, the prey emerged, wild boars, broad-shouldered and bristled, snouts buried in the soil as they rooted for bulbs and tubers. No one moved after they spotted the boars. The air was taut with restraint.

The tsar had already signaled for positions, a silent command that carried the weight of tradition. Everyone knew the rule, the first shot belonged to him. Until that moment came, every finger remained still on the trigger. The nobles would fire only after the tsar's rifle barked, taking whatever remained once his claim was made.

The tsar raised his rifle slowly, the barrel steady despite the faint winter wind threading through the trees. His finger tightened on the trigger.

A sharp crack shattered the stillness. The lead boar jerked violently, collapsing in the churned soil with a guttural squeal. For a heartbeat, the clearing froze, when they confirmed that the tsar struck his target, chaos erupted.

The remaining boars bolted in a frenzy, tusks flashing as they tore through the brush. The nobles surged forward, rifles snapping to their shoulders, the forest ringing with a volley of shots. One boar stumbled mid-stride, another fell in a rolling heap, and the rest vanished into the shadows.

When the echoes faded, the smell of gunpowder hung in the cold air. The tsar stepped forward to inspect his kill, a faint, satisfied nod marking the moment.

"See that son, your father is the best," The tsar turned to his son, who stuck closely to him, while the nobles allowed themselves to smile, knowing the hunt had truly begun.

The rest of the day unfolded in a blur of scouting and hunting for more prey. While the nobles, after felling their quarry, often drifted into conversations about politics and the empire's economic affairs, their voices carrying over the crisp forest air, the hunt itself remained lively. Attendants roamed further afield, tracking down and bringing back additional game, piling it up for later transport.

When the signal came to halt, the party turned back toward the hunting lodge. The air was scented with pine and gunpowder, and the sun's golden light slanted low through the trees. Alexei walked silently beside his attendants, his mind fixed on a single thought, persuading his father to let him at least hold the rifle. He reasoned that simply holding it, without firing, was far less risky than pulling the trigger. Surely, that much could be allowed.

Dinner that evening was a lavish affair, with roasted venison, spiced root vegetables, and fresh bread still warm from the oven. Conversation around the long table flowed with the easy warmth of satisfied stomachs and wine-softened tongues. Alexei ate heartily but kept glancing toward his father, waiting for the right moment.

That chance came when the meal concluded. As his father rose to retire, Alexei quickly offered to walk him back to his chambers. The two made their way down the long corridor, lit by flickering sconces whose warm glow cast dancing shadows along the polished wooden floors. Their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet hall, accompanied by the steady tread of their attendants following a few paces behind.

"Father," Alexei began cautiously, glancing up at him, "may I… at least hold the rifle tomorrow? I promise I won't fire it, only to see what it feels like in my hands."

The Tsar slowed his pace, casting his son a sidelong look. For a moment, the only sound was the distant crackle of the fireplaces. At last, he exhaled a quiet chuckle and shook his head.

"It took you a while to bring that up," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I expected you'd ask for more eventually, even though your mother and I agreed you wouldn't fire a rifle."

He paused, then gave a small nod. "Very well. But your attendant will be right beside you the entire time."

Alexei's face lit up, but before he could speak, his father turned to Nagorny, who was walking just behind them.

"You will teach my son how to hold the rifle and explain how it works, but ensure that no bullet comes anywhere near him. Understood?"

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Nagorny replied promptly.

"Good." The Tsar's smile deepened before he turned back to Alexei. "Satisfied with that, hmm?"

Alexei nodded eagerly. "Yes, Father. Thank you."

The Tsar patted his shoulder with a hearty chuckle. "Well, there you have it. I suppose I've fulfilled your 'mission' for volunteering to walk me back. My son, pretending to be dutiful, just so he can bargain for a rifle, hahaha."

Alexei only grinned, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Actually," his father continued, "I've been thinking of adding this to your studies about the military. You're already far ahead for your age. I've spoken to your uncle, my brother, and he's agreed to be your tutor once he joins us in the capital. So, make sure you learn something from this hunt. I want him to be impressed by your brilliance."

"Okay, Father. I'm sure I can handle it," Alexei said cheekily. "Besides, it gives me more reason to hold guns in the future."

That earned laughter not only from his father but also from the attendants trailing behind.

"You brat," the Tsar said with another hearty laugh. "Now off to bed. We've got many days of hunting ahead before our vacation ends, and we'll need every bit of energy."

Alexei bowed his head slightly. "Goodnight, Father."

"Goodnight, my boy."

With that, Alexei took his leave, accompanied by Nagorny and Sednev, walking down the adjoining corridor toward his own chambers. The warmth of the firelight faded behind him, replaced by the hushed stillness of his own quarters. Once Nagorny closed the door behind them, Alexei allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Tomorrow, at last, he would hold a rifle.

Sednev, trailing a few steps behind, caught the glint in the tsarevich's eyes and quickly guessed the cause. The good mood could only be from the Tsar's earlier approval for him to study the rifles.

"It seems you're looking forward to the days ahead, Your Highness," Sednev said with a faint, knowing smile, glancing at Nagorny as if to confirm his suspicion.

"Of course," Alexei replied with a grin. "I've heard it said that a rifle is a man's best friend in the military. It would do me good to make a best friend early in life."

Nagorny was still making a methodical sweep of the room, checking windows, doors, and corners before speaking. Alexei turned to him, his voice bright with anticipation. "And, Nagorny, teach me everything you know. We have the whole vacation ahead of us, so we might as well put it to use."

"Yes, Your Highness. You can learn as much as you wish, starting tomorrow," Nagorny said, finally straightening from his inspection. Duty always came first with him. Then he added, his tone firm, "But please understand this, your highness, I will not allow you to fire. The Tsar was clear, you will not be given bullets, and I will see to it that his orders are followed."

Alexei studied Nagorny for a moment, then glanced at Sednev, who was watching with quiet amusement. Finally, the boy sighed in mock defeat. "Fine. I won't fire any guns until I'm… ten, perhaps. But you must let me hold a rifle at all times tomorrow. No exceptions." He leaned on the last words with exaggerated seriousness.

"That will be acceptable," Nagorny replied, relief flickering briefly across his face.

Sednev, still leaning near the wall, chuckled inwardly. It was rare for Nagorny to speak so much in one go, the man was usually as quiet as a shadow.

"That's a deal, then. You may both leave when you're done, I'd like to rest," Alexei said after a pause, deciding there was nothing more to add.

When the room was checked to the last detail and his bed prepared, the attendants took their leave with polite bows. Alone at last, Alexei settled into the silence, the flicker of the fireplace casting shifting shadows on the walls. Then, with the practiced ease of his past life, he closed his eyes and began his nightly cultivation.

—-

The Next Morning

The frost clung to the earth like a thin sheet of glass, crunching under boots as the small hunting party stirred. Alexei emerged from the lodge wrapped in a thick wool coat, the air from his breath making pale clouds before his face. Nagorny was already outside, waiting by the steps with a rifle slung across his shoulder. The attendant straightened as Alexei approached.

"Your Imperial Highness," Nagorny said with a half-bow. "Today, we begin properly. Not with firing, but with respect. A rifle is not a toy, nor just a tool. It's an extension of the man who carries it. Treat it carelessly, and it will kill you or a friend. Treat it properly, and it will never betray you."

It seems that Nagorny is treating this training with seriousness. Nevertheless, it fits right with what Alexei wanted. So he just nodded, hands buried in his coat pockets. "I understand… I think."

"You will," Nagorny replied, as he led Alexei to a quiet corner where they would be training. When they arrived at a corner, Nagorny unslung the weapon. "This is a Mosin–Nagant M1891. Standard issue to the army. Solid, dependable, and accurate if you know her well. This rifle had been customized for hunting before."

He showed Alexei the rifle from muzzle to stock, his fingers moving with the ease of a man who had done this a thousand times.

"First, always keep the muzzle pointed away from anything you do not intend to kill," Nagorny said. "Even if the chamber is empty. Never forget that rule."

He demonstrated the ready position, stock tucked against the side, muzzle tilted safely toward the ground at a forward angle. Then the port position, rifle across the chest, both hands gripping firmly but not stiffly.

"Your left hand holds the forestock. That's where your control comes from," Nagorny explained. "Not too tight, or you'll shake when aiming. Not too loose, or the rifle will wander."

Alexei mimicked the grip, adjusting under Nagorny's guidance until it looked right. The rifle is too long for his height, especially its weight, but Alexei handled it with ease..

Nagorny was worried at first that it was too early for his tsarevich to handle a rifle. But seeing that Alexei handled it with ease, he relaxed. And began showing more on how to carry the rifle.

Nagorny showed him three ways to carry it when not aiming. The sling carry, over the shoulder, butt down, muzzle up. The trail carry, rifle in one hand, muzzle forward and slightly down, away from the body. And the cradle carry, balanced across the crook of the elbow, muzzle to the side.

"The cradle carry is comfortable for long walks," Nagorny said, "but keep the muzzle well away from your own feet."

"Now, bring it to your shoulder," Nagorny ordered. "One smooth motion, no fumbling. The butt should fit snugly into the hollow just above your arm joint. Not on the bone, unless you want a bruise you'll remember."

Alexei followed, lifting the rifle and feeling the wooden stock settle into place. It felt awkward at first, like holding a long stick not fit to his body but he managed it.

"Good. Now look down at the sights. Rear notch, front post, line them up so the post is centered and level. Your target should sit right above the post, not on top of the front sight."

Nagorny lowered his voice. "Remember, Your Highness, even before you fire, you must think like a marksman. Calm breath. Steady hands. You and the rifle must move as one. Do not fight it, guide it."

They spent the rest of the morning walking the forest edge, Alexei practicing the different carries, occasionally stopping to shoulder the rifle and aim at tree trunks or fence posts. Nagorny corrected his stance, adjusted his elbows, and reminded him to keep his finger outside the trigger guard until ready.

By midday, Alexei's arms were tired, but there was a quiet satisfaction in the weight of the weapon, in the way it no longer felt alien in his hands.

When they returned to camp for lunch, the Tsar was already seated by the fire, a silver cup in hand. He looked up as Alexei approached and smirked.

"So, how was it? Not yet tired?" he teased, though his eyes held genuine curiosity.

Unbeknownst to Alexei, his father had been watching from a distance earlier. At first, he had been quietly concerned, the rifle seemed nearly as tall as his son. But as the lesson went on, pride had replaced worry. The nobles who had been with him were equally impressed, murmuring at the boy's natural poise with the weapon.

Alexei only smiled faintly, unwilling to show fatigue. "Not tired at all," he said, taking his seat.

The Tsar chuckled, raising his cup. "Good. Then we'll see what you can do in the days to come."

He raised his cup in response, choosing not to speak further, his mind already preoccupied with what he had felt when channeling his qi into the rifle. Even without firing, he could sense that his qi had no effect on the weapon. Normally, cultivators could feel the subtle changes when an object was enhanced, so he knew enough to be certain nothing had happened. Still, he needed to experiment further, perhaps merely coating the weapon with his qi and enforcing his will upon it was insufficient. Maybe an array was required to draw out the desired effect. In his life in the cultivation world. There were high end weapons that required an array to function their desired effect. Sadly, he didn't get a hand on those weapons as they were reserved only for the young masters in the clans and sect.

The real problem, however, was his lack of knowledge. Most of his time in the cultivation world had been spent simply struggling to survive, leaving him with little opportunity to study advanced techniques or the deeper theories behind arrays and enchantments. Knowledge, after all, required money or spirit stones, resources he rarely had to spare. As a result, he had never been able to acquire much learning. Instead, his focus had always been on personal cultivation, techniques like the one he was using now, just to stay alive. That gap in learning now weighed heavily on him.

Even so, he resolved to keep testing. If nothing else, the days ahead might reveal what he was missing. For now, all he could do was nurture the faint hope that persistence would eventually unravel the mystery.

With lunch finished, Alexei decided to accompany his father on the afternoon hunt. He resolved to continue his training only in the mornings and dedicate the afternoons to hunting. That way, he could enjoy this rare vacation while still learning something on the side.

As usual, his trusted attendants accompanied him. This time, his father managed to bring down two prey in the afternoon, in addition to the one he had shot in the morning, leaving him satisfied. They spent the rest of the day watching others hunt and engaging in light conversation.

Before long, the time for hunting came to an end. They returned to the lodge for dinner. When it was finally time to retire for the night, Alexei insisted on keeping the rifle in his room. He argued that, since the rifle had no bullets, it posed no real danger. His father hesitated at first but eventually relented, ordering Nagorny and Sednev to check both the rifle and the room thoroughly to ensure there were no bullets before leaving.

Alexei was delighted to have his wish granted. He reflected that he had never once thrown a tantrum since birth, though, was insisting on keeping the rifle considered a tantrum? He wasn't sure. Regardless, he felt grateful to his father for being so generous. It hadn't even taken ten minutes for him to give in. His father was softhearted at his core. If it had been one of his sisters making a demand, accompanied by tears or tantrums, Alexei was certain his father wouldn't have lasted even that long. Chuckling at the thought, Alexei caught the attention of Nagorny and Sednev as they escorted him to his room.

Upon arrival, they carefully inspected every corner, from the furniture to his garments, even checking the tsarevich himself. Alexei didn't protest; he knew better than to cause trouble. He understood his limits. Even as heir to the empire, there were boundaries he could not cross.

Once satisfied, his attendants gave their final warnings not to do anything reckless. Alexei nodded earnestly, assuring them he understood both their concern and the seriousness of the matter. Only then did they finally take their leave.

At last, Alexei was alone. He first took a warm bath, then prepared to begin his nightly cultivation. This time, however, things would be different, he intended to include the rifle in his practice.

—---

It had been several days since Alexei began incorporating the rifle into his practice. The others quickly noticed his foul mood, especially his closest attendants, Nagorny and Sednev. Even during the morning training sessions, Alexei seemed to drift toward despair.

Nagorny, who was always by his side during practice, could no longer hold back his concern and finally asked, "Are you ill, Your Highness?"

Alexei, who had been lost in thought while running through the basics, was jolted back by the question. He shook his head. "No."

"Then what seems to be the problem? Are you growing bored now that you've nearly mastered the basics I've taught you?" Nagorny pressed, gesturing for Alexei to stop what he was doing. It was clear he wanted to talk.

Alexei took a deep breath, gazing at Nagorny for a long moment before replying.
"No. I was just… wondering about something."

He wanted to share his frustration with someone, but he couldn't. He had resolved to keep his secret to himself. Speaking about it would do him no good, and worse, it could endanger his family. After all, once another man knew a secret, it was no longer a secret.

With a frustrated kick at a loose stone on the ground, Alexei walked over to a nearby chair, set his rifle down beside him, and sat. Nagorny followed close behind. Alexei's eyes wandered over the courtyard, where servants bustled about, tending to the nobles.

The experiment with the rifle had been a failure. He had tried everything he could think of, yet the results were far from what he had hoped. The qi refused to interact with the rifle's mechanism. At best, he could coat the weapon with qi to enhance it with durability, turning it into a reinforced club. He was confident he could swing it a hundred times against an enemy and it would still hold. But that was not what he wanted.

What he desired was to enhance the rifle for its true purpose, to make it deadlier, more accurate, and capable of greater range. Instead, all his efforts had yielded nothing. No matter how he tried, the rifle's mechanism remained stubbornly unresponsive to his will, even when infused with qi.

He knew he hadn't test-fired the rifle yet, but based on his experiments, the outcome seemed inevitable. Just thinking about it gave Alexei a headache. He had been so excited about this experiment, only to be crushed by its failure.

Perhaps he had been nerfed by the very entity responsible for his reincarnation, or maybe he had simply wasted his life in the cultivation world, never gaining the knowledge it truly had to offer. But what could he have done differently? His time in that world had been nothing but suffering and trauma, and only the sheer will to survive had kept him alive.

Oh, how envious he was of the protagonists in the novels he once read in his first life, characters who effortlessly gained knowledge and power simply by being chosen, reincarnated, or transmigrated. Meanwhile, all he had received was…

"Ahem…"

Alexei was pulled out of his thoughts when Nagorny cleared his throat.

Looking up from his seat, he saw Nagorny studying him intently, as if trying to diagnose him with some hidden magical eyes, which, of course, he did not have.

"I'm sorry, Nagorny. I had a lot on my mind. Did you say something?" Alexei chastised himself for drifting so deeply into his worries in broad daylight, especially with someone beside him who clearly wanted to talk. He didn't want to appear absentminded to others, but the habit had followed him from his first life.

"You're too young to be thinking so deeply, Your Highness. Do you want to share what's troubling you?" Nagorny asked, his brows furrowed. He was clearly worried. Only a few days ago, his tsarevich had been brimming with joy after being allowed to carry a rifle. Now, however, he seemed weighed down, as if burdened by problems far too great for his age.

"It's not something anyone could understand. But maybe in the future, if I truly have a problem, I'll share it with you, Nagorny. Thank you for worrying, though. Just… don't tell my father about this."

Alexei spread his hands to emphasize his state, then glanced at Sednev, who stood nearby and had clearly overheard everything. Sednev gave him a steady, serious look before nodding in silent understanding. Turning back to Nagorny, he saw the same response and felt a little more at ease. He didn't trust them fully yet, but at least they were loyal and seemed to report only to his parents. That much, he had gathered from observation. It wouldn't be long before he drew them into his inner circle, where his most trusted confidants would gather.

"Anyway, let's stop talking about this and continue with our routine. I also want to add some body exercises I read about in a book to our daily schedule. Do you have any military drills suitable for my age, Nagorny? Sednev?" Alexei asked with a grin. "Don't underestimate me, though. Even in this body, I can kill a boar with a single punch!"

He mimicked a punching stance from his seat, joking to lighten the mood and steer the conversation away from where he didn't want it to go.

Nagorny and Sednev looked speechlessly at Alexei. The way their tsarevich shifted the subject so effortlessly, as though it were nothing of concern, was in itself concerning. But what could they do? All they could manage was to remain vigilant for any signs of abnormality later on and hope that it truly was nothing. Their duty was to ensure that nothing unusual happened to the tsarevich, and they were determined to uphold that responsibility.

They had already accepted that their tsarevich was unlike other children. The way he spoke, moved, and observed those around him was astonishing enough. Rumors had already spread among the palace maids that the tsarevich was a genius even before they had arrived. They thought they were prepared for such peculiarities, but they were still left amazed by how composed and self-possessed he was, so much so that he would not even allow the maids to wash him.

They exchanged a brief glance before Sednev spoke.
"We must first ask His Majesty before teaching you any body exercises, Your Highness. Perhaps it would be best to complete the basic rifle training before moving on to anything else. It isn't wise to add everything at once, your body is still developing," he said, his voice tinged with concern.

Alexei regarded them for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

He had been considering it already, since he couldn't gain much of an advantage from the rifle, he might as well begin training his body for close combat. He was certain that, in time, he would become unmatched in this world. It was wiser to focus on what he was naturally good at. Still, they had a point. He would simply need to complete the basic rifle training before moving on to the others.

So Alexei began his training once again. Guided by Nagorny, he practiced another round of rifle handling and marching drills. By the time they were finished, it was nearly noon, and they made their way back to the lodge for lunch. When they arrived, Alexei saw that the meal had already begun. His father was speaking with General Mikhailov, but Alexei ignored them and quietly went to his seat.

When the Tsar noticed his son, he paused his conversation and asked how the training was going. He had been well aware of Alexei's foul mood over the past few days and had already asked him what was wrong, only to receive the usual excuse that it was nothing. Unable to press further, the Tsar simply let him be and had instructed Sednev to keep a close watch on his son, something Sednev and Nagorny had carried out dutifully.

"I'm fine, Father. Nothing to worry about," Alexei replied with a smile before digging into his meal. He was famished from all the training and thinking, so he ate heartily.

Seeing Alexei eat with such appetite, the Tsar finally relaxed. He subtly signaled Sednev and Nagorny for any signs of concern, but they only shook their heads. That reassured him enough not to ask further.

Alexei, however, secretly noticed their exchange. He gave Nagorny and Sednev a discreet nod of thanks before returning to his meal.

That afternoon, Alexei accompanied his father on a hunt. Yet even as he walked through the forest, his thoughts lingered elsewhere. It felt as though he were shackled, restricted from unleashing his full potential upon the world. Not that he had any intention of wreaking havoc, this was his world, his true home. What he wanted was peace, peace enough to live quietly and wait for the day technology advanced far enough for the games he longed for to return, decades from now.

"Whatever," Alexei muttered under his breath as he watched his father bring down another prey from a hundred feet away. The nobles and attendants applauded the clean shot, and moments later, the Tsar declared the hunt over for the day.

As the clapping echoed through the forest. He decided it was better to live life as it came rather than brood over what he could not attain. It was, after all, in human nature to always want more, even when one already possessed enough. He himself would have the strength to be considered superhuman in this world, yet still, he found himself yearning for things beyond his reach. It would do him no good to dwell on it.

They began making their way back to the lodge when Alexei noticed his father idly rolling a bullet between his fingers.

As if struck by lightning, he froze for a moment and almost slapped himself in the face. He had been preoccupied with enhancing the rifle that he forgot he could also enhance the bullet. Maybe…

"Can I hold it?" Alexei asked, his wide eyes and eager smile giving him an air of innocent pleading.

His father glanced at him but said nothing, continuing to walk in silence.

"Look, Father, I'm not holding a rifle," Alexei added quickly, stretching out his arms and showing his empty hands to emphasize the point. "I promise, I'll return it before we reach the lodge."

His father studied him for a moment, then looked back at the bullet in his hand. Finally, with a soft chuckle, he said, "Tsk, tsk… You're getting bolder by the day, you little brat." He ruffled Alexei's hair before handing him the bullet.

Alexei's face lit up as he accepted it, muttering a quiet, "Thank you, Father."

His father only nodded before turning to Nagorny and Sednev. "Make sure to take it back from him before we arrive," he instructed. Both men gave a respectful nod in response.

Alexei studied the bullet carefully. It had a pointed tip, which meant his sharpness enhancement should work on it. Channeling his qi into the bullet, he willed the enhancement to activate, and it did. He then layered durability onto it, and to his satisfaction, the two enhancements worked together. A smile tugged at his lips. Now all he needed was a proper test.

The enhancement, however, would only last for five seconds after he stopped channeling qi. That meant the bullet would have to be fired almost immediately once loaded. Another possibility came to him, if he channeled his qi through his body, into the rifle, and finally into the bullet right before firing, then the effect would still carry over after the bullet left the barrel. That would give him at least five seconds of enhanced sharpness and durability in flight, more than enough to reach a target.

The question was, would it work? Would it improve the range and power like he wanted? He needed to test the theory. But he had already used up his "plus points," and he knew his father would never allow such reckless experimentation, unless Alexei wished to face the full wrath of his mother.

So he had to improvise.

After a brief moment of thought, Alexei turned to Nagorny. "Can you fire a rifle tomorrow? I want to see you in action."

Nagorny, who had been watching him closely, looked momentarily startled by the request. Of course he could fire a rifle, that much was obvious, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously at Alexei, as though sensing there was more behind the boy's question. Before he could press further, Alexei quickly added, "I've already seen almost everyone else fire a rifle, but not you or Sednev. I want to see your skills too. If you're really that good."

Alexei deliberately provoked them, questioning their abilities with the rifle. Question their skill with the rifle and they'll surely bite the bullet, he thought with a grin. The pun nearly made him laugh out loud.

Nagorny and Sednev exchanged a glance. Sednev tilted his head slightly and lowered his voice.
"Do you think he's up to something?"

"I don't know," Nagorny replied after a moment's thought. "But let's just get it over with tomorrow. It's only firing a rifle, anyway." He decided they would simply keep a close watch on their tsarevich and make sure he didn't try anything reckless.

Nagorny turned to Alexei. "Tomorrow morning, Your Highness, after you've finished a round of the basics, we'll let you see us shoot."

"Really? That's good. Hehe. Here, take the bullet, I'm done with it." Alexei handed it over with a silly laugh before hurrying to join his father, who was walking at the head of the hunting party.

Nagorny and Sednev could only sigh at the sight. Their tsarevich seemed to be having mood swings lately. Just a moment ago, he had looked utterly despondent, as if the weight of the world would crush him by tomorrow. And now…

They could only shake their heads.

Quietly, they followed Alexei toward his father, maintaining a respectful distance as the party made its way back to the lodge.

—----

Alexei woke up early the next day, eager to test his newfound hope. He ate his breakfast quickly, much to his father's amusement. Nicholas already knew what his son was up to, since Nagorny and Sednev had spoken to him about Alexei's request. He was not worried, he trusted that Nagorny and Sednev would do their duty in keeping the tsarevich safe.

Sednev led Alexei to the yard, where Nagorny was already waiting. Almost immediately, Alexei began his usual drills with the rifle. It didn't take him long to finish, after which he ordered the servants to line up wooden targets a hundred meters away. At least ten were set in place at once, and Alexei turned to Nagorny and Sednev, instructing them to get ready.

Though puzzled, Nagorny and Sednev followed their tsarevich's lead. But just as they prepared to fire, Alexei interrupted again, he insisted on touching the rifle before they pulled the trigger. What's more, he kept reminding them to shoot the moment his hand left the weapon.

They exchanged a silent look, baffled by his strange demands. What on earth was he trying to do? Yet when they confirmed there was no danger in it, they eventually relented. And so, the exercise began.

Alexei planned to test a simple comparison, one bullet without his enhancement and another with it. Primitive as it was, it would be enough to see whether the enhanced bullet carried more firepower than the regular one. He had already ensured that the targets were identical in both size and wood quality for an accurate comparison.

Once the shooting was done, Alexei immediately ordered the servants to retrieve the targets and deliver them to his room.

Nagorny and Sednev were left puzzled. They had sensed something unusual in some of the shots they fired but couldn't quite put their finger on it. To make matters more confusing, their tsarevich refused to let them examine the targets. All they could do was follow Alexei back to his room, only to be told to wait outside once they arrived. Reluctantly, they took up their posts, standing guard as their tsarevich busied himself inside.

Alexei quickly separated the targets struck by enhanced bullets from those hit by regular ones. When he noticed even the slightest difference between them, a broad smile spread across his face. By the time he finished examining all the targets, he burst into laughter, loud enough that Nagorny and Sednev surely heard it outside. But Alexei didn't care.

What a whirlwind of emotions this vacation had brought him through his experiments. The frustration when the rifle failed to meet his expectations, only for his spirits to soar now that the bullet enhancement had worked. How foolish he felt for not thinking of this sooner.

The difference between the enhanced and regular bullets was small, but it was there. All that remained was to measure how significant it truly was once he had permission to fire a rifle. For now, Alexei kept laughing to himself, while outside, Nagorny and Sednev exchanged uneasy glances, increasingly concerned by the strange behavior of their tsarevich.

 

[Twilight Kira93]

So you went with the magic bullet. Now you're obligated to give him an overly ornamented, gold-plated pistol to complement the magic bullet techniques he's going to develop. After all, nothing says 'cultivator' like looking good while showing some fool the immensity of heaven and earth.

Good chapter! I like how you made life difficult for Alexis in this chapter. Guns at that time were big, underdeveloped weapons. They got the job done, but they were heavy and unwieldy, much like an iron sword compared to a steel one. I also became slightly less annoyed with the magic bullet dislike, as I was thinking about bloodborne guns.

Keep going, champ!

 

[rsc]

Mid spring 1901

The weather had begun to grow warmer, and with it the land slowly awakened from winter's grip. Fresh green leaves unfurled on the birches and lindens, while the first blossoms pushed through the thawing soil, scattering gardens and fields with gentle bursts of color. The rivers, once locked in ice, now ran freely, their currents carrying away the last fragments of snow. Mid-spring in Russia carried with it a sense of renewal, the promise of life returning after the long, merciless cold.

As Alexei traveled back to St. Petersburg with his father, he watched the countryside roll past the train carriage windows. Villages stirred with activity, farmers turned the damp earth in their fields, children splashed in muddy lanes, and the scent of fresh growth mingled with smoke from cottage chimneys. Everywhere was the hum of a season awakening, a quiet joy that seemed to settle over the land.

He grinned as he watched the world outside, a quiet satisfaction settling over him. Life, so far, had been good in this new life. Though he felt restrained by the limits of his cultivation, it no longer weighed heavily on his mind. After all, this world was nothing like the cultivation realm of his past life. He only needed to be cautious not to end up assassinated.

Alexei's eyes drifted around the small compartment of his train carriage. It was cramped, but large enough for him to pace in circles when restless. He stepped toward the desk where his notebook lay waiting. Sitting down, he opened it and began to jot down the tasks that awaited him once he returned to the imperial capital. The issue of money still gnawed at him. He couldn't simply turn to his father or mother for funds, doing so would invite too many questions about where it would all be spent, and he had no desire to endure their scrutiny. No, he would need to solve this problem on his own.

It was around midday when Alexei finally finished jotting down his thoughts. He closed the notebook with care and slipped it beneath his pillow, as though hiding away a precious secret. Just as he was about to settle onto the bed, a knock sounded at the door. Sednev's voice followed, announcing that it was time for lunch and that the Tsar had requested his presence.

With a soft sigh, Alexei rose and opened the door, telling Sednev to lead the way. Nagorny, who had been standing guard outside, immediately fell in step behind him. Alexei couldn't help but notice the strange looks the two exchanged as they walked. Clearly, they still hadn't forgotten the unsettling laugh they had overheard back at the lodge.

But what could he do? He got so caught up with happiness when he figured out that his enhancement truly worked in amplifying a bullet's firepower. So he decided to ignore the weird glances and not talk about it. Some things were better left unspoken.
Alexei arrived at the dining car of the train, where all of his father's acquaintances had gathered for lunch. The Tsar's eyes immediately lit up at the sight of him.

"Alexei, you're here. Come, eat with us," his father said warmly, gesturing to the seat beside him.

Alexei complied and began filling his plate with Sednev's help. The sight of the dishes spread across the table stirred his hunger. His appetite had been steadily increasing as he grew older and advanced in his cultivation. Without hesitation or restraint, he began eating the moment his plate was full.

His father watched with quiet satisfaction. To him, a hearty appetite meant health, and that was all that mattered. He made no attempt to correct his son's manners at the table. Without his wife's presence, and away from the rigid etiquette of court, there was a freedom in these moments, a freedom where indulgence was allowed, so long as it did not slip into excess.

When his father saw that Alexei had finished eating, he couldn't help but ask,
"So, what do you think of our first hunting trip together?"

Alexei wiped his mouth with a serviette before replying.
"It was okay. You shot plenty of game, but I didn't even get to fire once."

He gave his father a quick glance before turning his attention back to the table, searching for more food. The dish he wanted was too far away, so he asked Sednev to fill his plate for him.

His father watched speechlessly, realizing how difficult it was to satisfy his son. He had already granted Alexei's requests during the hunt, yet it still seemed not enough.

"Your mother wouldn't allow it anyway. Besides, it's not as if you could handle the recoil yet. You need to grow a little more before you're ready. Maybe in a few years, my son." He grinned as he gently ruffled Alexei's hair.

"Maybe next year?" Alexei asked hopefully, his eyes fixed on his father.

"You're pushing it. If you can convince your mother, then I'll agree too." His father chuckled, not expecting his son to bargain.

Alexei didn't answer. He only pouted and continued eating, knowing full well it would be impossible to convince his mother.

It didn't take Alexei long to finish his second plate. He wanted more, but realized it might seem odd for him to eat so much already, so he reluctantly stopped. Glancing around the dining car, he noticed it was still full, and it seemed as though some of the passengers were quietly listening to their conversation while pretending not to. As usual, Alexei paid them no mind. It would still be a few years before he had to concern himself with court politics. For now, that burden rested with his father, who could manage them easily, after all, they were his friends and close confidants. Not his.

Seeing that Alexei finished his lunch, his father spoke. "We'll arrive tomorrow at dawn. Hopefully, it won't be too cold. Make sure you're ready by then, we'll be having breakfast at the palace with your mother and sisters."

"Okay," Alexei replied. Then, realizing he had nothing else to do, he added, "Can I go back to my room now?"

"Of course," his father said with a nod.

Alexei rose from his seat and said, "Thank you," before walking back to his room, followed closely by Sednev and Nagorny.

When they arrived, Alexei turned to Sednev. "I'm still a little hungry. Could you bring me some food? I want the roasted beef."

Sednev hesitated for a moment. He had served Alexei during lunch and knew how much the boy had already eaten, yet it still wasn't enough? Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and replied, "Of course, Your Highness. Anything else?"

"That'll be all," Alexei said with a shake of his head. He walked over to the window, sat down, and resumed gazing at the passing scenery.

At that, Sednev quietly left the room, while Nagorny remained stationed outside the door to stand guard.

—---

Alexei rose early the next morning, carefully packing away the few belongings he refused to let others touch, his notebook chief among them. After checking twice to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he sat by the window and waited for Sednev and Nagorny to summon him for disembarkation. They came soon enough, and together they left the room, meeting the tsar near the exit.

His father only gave him a nod when he saw him. He seemed preoccupied, speaking with Boris, likely about the gifts he intended to bring along for the journey. Alexei's own presents for his mother and sisters were already with Sednev, chosen with care from local artisans near their lodge in Białowieża. Once the conversation ended, his father turned to him and asked, "Are you ready? We'll disembark as soon as the guards finish checking the station."

"Yes. But why are they checking the station? Can't we just go now?" Alexei replied, unable to hide his impatience. He wanted to reach the palace quickly so he could rest. Sleeping in the carriage train was nearly impossible, the constant motion kept him awake. He had become a light sleeper in the cultivation world, where danger lurked everywhere. One careless lapse could mean death.

"They're just doing their job, son. Be patient," his father said with a smile. But Alexei could tell it was only an excuse. He simply muttered, "Oh," and sat down to wait.

As he observed their surroundings, he noticed that everyone seemed tense. The nobles who usually accompanied his father were absent, likely taking a different exit. The tsar's personal guards formed a tight circle around them, every man on high alert. Even Sednev and Nagorny looked uneasy. Were they anticipating an assassination attempt? Alexei didn't know, no one had informed him, but the possibility was clear enough. He resolved to keep his enhanced senses sharp during the journey from the train station to the palace. Better to be cautious than to risk cutting his life short.

Soon, a guard approached his father to report that the station was secure, and they began to disembark. To Alexei's surprise, he was separated from his father by at least ten meters, some kind of precautionary protocol in case of an attack, he assumed. The walk outside was heavy with tension. When they exited the station, they were met by more guards who surrounded their carriage. The entire area had been cleared of travelers. Communication among the guards was conducted only through hand signals. In silence, they were escorted safely to the carriage.

The moment the door shut, the carriage lurched into motion. Alexei peered out the window, keeping vigilant in case anyone tried to strike at them. His father did not speak to him, conversing instead in hushed tones with Boris, who rode with them. Nagorny and Sednev hadn't joined their carriage, but Alexei was certain they were close, probably in the one behind them.

Keeping his senses sharp throughout the ride only deepened his exhaustion, yet he refused to relent. His eyes swept the streets, searching for any sign of unusual movement beyond the carriage window. Each turn of the wheels felt heavier with tension. At last, and to his quiet relief, nothing happened, and soon the palace loomed into view.

—--
Alexei walked beside his father as they made their way toward the dining room. It seemed he wouldn't be given the chance to rest or change before meeting his mother and sisters. Still, he thought it was for the best, this way he could enjoy the rest of the day without interruption.

It didn't take long before they arrived. His mother stood near the doorway, her rounded belly unmistakable, while his sisters were carried in the arms of their caretakers.

The moment she saw his father, she offered a graceful curtsy and said softly, "Good morning, and welcome back, husband."

His father smiled warmly. "Good morning, my wife. You didn't have to wake so early just to greet me." He stepped closer, embracing her without hesitation, his voice tender. "Tell me, how are you feeling? How is the pregnancy treating you this time?"

Without minding the servants or attendants nearby, the tsar leaned down to kiss her cheek and placed a gentle hand upon her swelling stomach.

She blushed faintly at the public display, though she tried to disguise it by taking his hand and lowering it from her belly. "It is already my fourth pregnancy," she said softly. "There is nothing to worry about."

Then her eyes shifted, settling warmly on Alexei.

The moment Alexei noticed his mother looking at him, he quickly spoke. "Good morning, Mother. I missed you so much." He tried to smile, but the exhaustion on his face betrayed him.

"Good morning to you too, my son. If you miss me that much, then perhaps you should stay with me next time instead of following your father." She opened her arms with a gentle smile. "Come, let your mother hold you."

Alexei obeyed, leaning into her embrace. After the hug, she studied his face more closely, her eyes softening with concern. "You look tired from your travels. Let's have breakfast first, and then you can rest," she said gently before turning toward her husband, who was happily entertaining their daughters.

"That's enough, husband. Let's eat."

The Tsar reluctantly handed the girls back to their caretakers, then guided his wife to the table, helping her sit.

They prayed before beginning their meal. Not long after, Alexei's mother started a conversation with his father. "Count Witte came here a week ago and told me about something…"

Alexei paid little attention. He simply kept eating, even after his parents had already finished. His mother noticed his appetite and was about to speak, but his father stopped her with a subtle shake of his head. He leaned close, whispering something to her. She raised an eyebrow but sighed, deciding to let Alexei be.

Their quiet conversation resumed until, at last, Alexei set down his utensils, having finished his meal.

It was then time for gifts. His father began first, presenting his offerings to his wife and daughters. When his turn came, Alexei carefully handed his gift to his mother, then turned to his sisters. Olga's face lit up with delight as she received hers, while little Tatiana, too young to understand the meaning of gifts, simply let her caretaker accept it on her behalf.

When all was finished and his mother had finished admiring the gifts she received, she turned to Alexei and said, "You may rest for the day, my son, but tomorrow you will resume your studies with your tutor. And do not forget, you must tell me everything that happened during your vacation."

Alexei, too full and weary, only replied, "Yes, Mother. Then I'll take my leave." He rose from his seat and began walking toward his room, accompanied as always by Nagorny and Sednev.

When he arrived, he found Anya, whom he hadn't seen for quite some time, preparing his bed. She smiled warmly and said, "Good morning, Your Highness. Welcome back." Yet almost instantly, she cast a resentful glance at Sednev standing behind him before quickly forcing another bright smile in Alexei's direction.

The gesture was swift, but Alexei caught it. He guessed she might be upset at being left behind while Sednev and Nagorny had accompanied him on his vacation with his father. But he was far too tired to entertain their petty rivalries and said only, "Good morning to you too, Anya. I'll take my bath before going to bed. Is it ready?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she replied, gesturing toward the bathroom. Alexei made his way there. She knew well that he disliked anyone assisting him with his bath, so she simply led him to the door.

Once Alexei closed it behind him, Anya turned around and shot a sharp glare first at Sednev, then at Nagorny, who was already busy checking the room. She said nothing, only returning to her task of readying the tsarevich's bed.

At this, Sednev and Nagorny exchanged a glance and shrugged. They both knew she had been Alexei's nanny since his birth, and unless their tsarevich himself ordered otherwise, there was little they could do about her moods.

What a jealous woman, they thought.

It didn't take Alexei long to finish his bath. When he returned, he told them he would sleep for the rest of the day, skip lunch, and only have dinner later. With that, he dismissed them and went straight to bed.

—--

Alexei woke to the sound of the door opening. His body tensed instinctively, but the faint aroma of food reached him, and when he turned his head slightly to see who it was, he relaxed. It was only Sednev.

Noticing that the tsarevich was awake, Sednev bowed his head slightly and said, "Forgive me, Your Highness, if I disturbed you."

Alexei pushed himself up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A glance toward the window told him that the sky was already darkening. He turned back to Sednev. "It's fine. Is that dinner?" he asked, gesturing toward the food. Hunger stirred within him again, though all he had done was sleep.

"Yes, Your Highness. Your mother instructed that you stay in your room and dine here tonight. She only asks that you be on time tomorrow for your lessons and a talk with her." Sednev carefully set the food on the table, then moved to help Alexei out of bed.

"Thank you, Sednev. Did you manage to rest?" Alexei asked. He was never sure when, or how, his attendants found time to sleep. They always seemed to appear whenever he needed them.

Sednev smiled. "Of course, Your Highness. I rested earlier while Nagorny stood guard. Now it is his turn to sleep, and I will keep watch for the rest of the evening."

Alexei's expression remained calm but inwardly he silently cursed them. He didn't like their arrangement one bit. He had a plan for tonight, and if Sednev remained outside his door, he would have no choice but to slip out through the window again. He only hoped they wouldn't discover his absence before he returned.

It was best to tell them about his plans, but Alexei reminded himself, not yet. They would probably panic if they discovered a five-year-old like him could do things far beyond his age. So, instead, he simply nodded at Sednev and began eating. He finished his dinner quickly and told Sednev that he would spend the rest of the evening reading in preparation for tomorrow's lessons. He emphasized that no one should disturb him or open the door unless the palace was burning or under attack.

Sednev paused, staring at his tsarevich for a moment before replying. "Yes, Your Highness." He bowed his head, then started clearing the table. Inwardly, he mused about his young master's peculiarities. Once the table was spotless, he asked, "Do you need anything, Your Highness? Perhaps a snack for later?"

"No need. Thank you, Sednev. See you tomorrow." Alexei smiled, patting his stomach. He was grateful that Sednev had brought so much food, it seemed his attendant already knew how much it took to make him full.

"Then have a good reading, Your Highness." Sednev bowed once more before leaving the room.

Alexei remained seated for a moment, waiting until he was certain that Sednev had walked away to put away the cutlery. Then, he stretched, trying to digest his meal quickly so it wouldn't hinder his movements later. Once he confirmed it was still early, he picked up a book and read while waiting for the household to fall asleep. By the time he had finished nearly half of it, he closed the book and began his preparations.

He changed into light, fitted clothes, then retrieved a small sack he had hidden before leaving for his vacation. After checking that he had everything he needed, he moved toward the window, quietly unlatched it, and carefully climbed out. With deliberate care, he pulled the window shut behind him before making his descent into the night.

Alexei carefully slipped past the guards, making his way toward his destination, the servant's quarters, the place where the palace's repository supervisor lived. He already knew every corridor and hidden walkway in the palace from his previous nightly excursions. Getting lost was impossible. The only place still beyond his reach was the basement, where the vault and family treasures were kept. The guards there were so numerous and vigilant that even he hadn't dared to attempt sneaking in. For now, he had to find another way to secure the seed money he needed for his plans.

When he reached the servant quarters, he noticed that some of the lights were still lit. Curious, he paused and listened. A few servants, still awake, were quietly gossiping among themselves. Alexei lingered for a moment, straining to catch their words. Once he confirmed that their idle chatter had nothing to do with him or his family, he moved on silently, heading toward the room of the man he sought, Andrei, the repository supervisor. With luck, he would already be drunk and fast asleep.

From what Alexei had gathered, Andrei was a disgrace of a servant, lazy, corrupt, and thoroughly detestable. How he had secured such a position remained a mystery, though it was clear he must have had powerful backers within the palace. Alexei didn't yet know who, but he was certain of one thing, once he had real power in his hands, Andrei would be among the first to go.

What kind of man entrusted with safeguarding palace property spent his days harassing servants, drinking himself senseless, and shirking duty? Worse still, Andrei oversaw the storage of broken or slightly damaged palace items, objects that might still hold value. Who could say how many had already found their way into his pockets, sold off in secret? Perhaps darker dealings lay hidden behind his drunken bluster.

And Alexei didn't like it one bit as it was happening where his family lives. He already swore to himself that he would protect them and the ones he confirmed that pose a threat to his family need to be eliminated. Still, for now, this Andrei would live, as it would cause too much commotion if they found a body inside the palace.

Alexei arrived at Andrei's door and carefully looked around. Once he was certain no one was nearby, he checked the door, and, as expected, it was locked. Without hesitation, he slipped outside to where Andrei's window should be.

Fortunately, Andrei's room was on the first floor, so the climb wasn't too difficult, though it was still high for Alexei's stature. He scaled the wall with care until he reached window level and tested them. To his relief, one had been left slightly ajar.

Pausing, Alexei pressed his ear closer, listening for any sign of movement inside. He wasn't concerned if Andrei was awake, if that was the case, he would simply beat him until he passed out. That was the plan. If Andrei happened to already be drunk and asleep, then he should consider himself lucky, his own drunken stupor had spared him a well-deserved thrashing.

Once he was certain there was no movement inside, Alexei carefully widened the gap in the window and slipped through. He landed silently, already in a fighting stance, his senses sharp and alert. The room was dim and quiet. On the bed lay what he hoped was Andrei. Alexei scanned his surroundings one more time, and when he found no sign of danger, he allowed his body to ease just slightly. Moving closer, he peered down at the figure on the bed. It was Andrei.

To be sure, Alexei leaned in and checked his breathing. The stench of alcohol hit him so strongly he nearly gagged, cursing himself for even trying. Still, the reek confirmed what he needed to know, Andrei was drunk and completely passed out.

Without wasting time, Alexei began searching for the keys to the repository storage of the palace, where he intended to ransack anything of value. Luck was on his side, the keys sat openly on the table beside the door. He didn't know which keys were for the repository storage, so he took them all and would test all of them at the site.

He cast one last glance at Andrei, checking if he had stirred. The man remained dead asleep. Satisfied, Alexei pocketed the keys and slipped out as quietly as he had entered.

Alexei made his way toward the repository storage of the palace, carefully avoiding the guards who were on their nightly duties. What struck him most was how absurdly easy it had been to slip in and out inside. If there had been an organization, or even a single group, skilled in such work, the palace would have been stripped bare long ago, or worse, its occupants slaughtered in their sleep.

He silently hoped no such group existed. After all, this was the 1900s.

He pushed the thought aside as he reached the repository storage. Keeping his distance, he carefully scanned the area before approaching. Two guards caught his attention, one stationed firmly at the door, the other slumped nearby, fast asleep.

Just as Sednev had mentioned earlier, they seemed to take turns standing watch. Convenient, Alexei thought. Their routine made his task far easier, perhaps even too easy.

He carefully wrapped a cloth around his fist, making sure it was tight. Then he pulled his mask over his face. After scanning the area once more and confirming that no one else was present aside from the two guards, he moved.

Keeping to the guard's blind side, Alexei wrapped his fist with qi and advanced. He managed to get within four meters before the guard finally noticed him, but by then, it was too late. Alexei surged forward, his sudden speed catching the man completely off guard. Before he could make a sound, Alexei's fist crashed into his jaw. The guard dropped his rifle with a dull clatter before collapsing unconscious to the ground.

The noise roused the second guard, who stirred and began to rise from his slouched position. But before he could fully sit up, Alexei was already upon him. A sharp blow to the head forced him back down, returning him to an even deeper, unwilling sleep.

Alexei drew in a slow breath and let it out. That short burst of speed had drained more from him than he expected, his stamina was nearly gone. At least the immediate problem was dealt with. His body still wasn't built for a prolonged fight.

He shook his head and unwrapped the cloth from around his fist. A bruise had already begun to swell across his knuckles. The pain was sharp, but manageable. He still didn't know what was wrong with him, but he trusted it would heal with time.

Once his breathing steadied, he dragged the unconscious guard and propped him next to the one who had been sleeping. To anyone passing by, it would look like two men shirking their duty. That done, Alexei turned his attention to the door.

He worked through the keys one by one, his patience tested with every failed attempt. Finally, the right one slid in and turned with a soft click. He eased the door open and paused, scanning the surrounding area once again. When he confirmed that no one had seen him. He slipped inside.

What greeted him inside was dust, the kind that clung to the throat with every breath. They didn't even bother to clean this place, he thought. Alexei searched for a switch, and when he found it, he flicked it on.

The dim light revealed broken palace items, heavy with dust. Most weren't worth much, yet some still held value, especially silver pieces and ornaments whose designs still pleased the eye. He scanned the room carefully, selecting only what could fit into his small sack.

When he found objects that were light, compact, and still valuable, he slipped them inside with practiced hands. He moved quickly. Time was short, and he knew sooner or later a guard would come through on patrol. Larger items weren't worth the risk. He ignored them, focusing only on what he could carry.

Once he was satisfied, he closed the sack and moved silently toward the door. First, he switched off the light, plunging the room back into darkness. Then he pressed his head against the narrow gap of the door, carefully peering outside.

The guards he had knocked out were still slumped where he left them, breathing heavily in their forced sleep. After confirming no one else was nearby, he eased the door open just wide enough to slip through with the sack. Once outside, he closed it gently, locked it, and left.

Alexei made his way back toward Andrei's room, carefully avoiding the patrolling guards. He walked slowly, the sack dragging heavily behind him. Exhaustion was beginning to creep back into his body, but he pressed on.

When he finally arrived, he set the sack down quietly and climbed up to the window. Peering inside, he checked first to see if Andrei had stirred. When he confirmed that the man was still asleep, Alexei slipped through the window and returned the keys to their original place.

He was about to pass Andrei's bed when a groggy voice stopped him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Andrei was struggling to sit up, drunkenness still weighing heavily on him.

Alexei froze, his body tensing as instinct took over. Without replying, he lunged forward. His fist, charged with qi, connected squarely with Andrei's jaw, knocking him back into unconsciousness.

Really? You just had to wake up for that punch? Alexei thought bitterly, wincing at the pain now throbbing in his knuckles. For a moment, he was tempted to hit him again just to vent his frustration.

But he didn't linger. Climbing back out the window, he hefted the sack once more and disappeared into the night, heading back toward his room.

Alexei carefully climbed through his own window, the sack slung behind him. Once inside, he let his body relax as he quietly set the sack down, making sure not to make a sound that might alert Sednev, who he was certain was still outside.

He allowed himself a moment to rest, breathing heavily as his eyes fell on his knuckles. The skin was swollen, dark with bruising, and it looked as if the blood beneath was about to burst through. Slowly, he gathered what remained of his qi and willed it into his injured hand.

The healing was faint, almost sluggish. By the time his qi was nearly depleted, the wound had only improved by the barest margin, perhaps one-tenth healed. Alexei let out a quiet chuckle at the futility of it.

Looks like this will take some time to mend, he thought. But now he was certain of one thing, whatever his illness was, it had something to do with his blood.

Thankfully, he was certain the disease would heal once he advanced to level three of his body cultivation. If not, he doubted he would even make it to adulthood, and would likely end up dead, again.

He chuckled ruefully at the thought, then sat up and quietly hid the sack. Once that was done, he took a bath to wash away the sweat and dirt. Fortunately, plumbing had been added to the palace not long ago. Though the water wasn't heated, as Anya usually prepared for him, he didn't bother with the inconvenience and bathed anyway.

When he finished, he carefully dried himself and prepared for sleep. He didn't bother cultivating tonight as he was so damn tired.

As he waited for sleep to claim him. He reflected on what had become of him. A prince who was a killer and a thief. What's next?

 

[Thiccc Shaedy]

"Alexei, his name will be Alexei Nikolaevich," he said gently, cradling his son as he watched him drift off to sleep in his arms. Afterward, he handed the baby back to the midwife and checked on his wife. Seeing that she was simply asleep and exhausted filled him with relief. Shortly after, the rest of his family entered the room, gazing at the sleeping prince. Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich, the third in line for succession now after his brother Grand Duke George Alexandrovich and the newly born Alexei, congratulated him with a pat on the arm. "Congratulations, brother! It seems you can relax now that you have an heir." Nicholas was glad to sense that he genuinely meant it. He smiled and replied, "Thank you, brother." He is still sad that his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, couldn't be with him at this moment. A second later, Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna also offered her congratulations before turning her attention to the baby, leaving her brothers to continue their conversation.

Click to shrink...

Please start a new paragraph whenever you switch speakers in a dialogue. For example... Each differently coloured bit of text that I've quoted should be it's own paragraph.

It might be best to Google "how to write a dialogue in a story/novel." Or just run your chapters through ChatGPT for proofreading before posting them to help you improve your writing.

One more thing... how about using italics when writing flashback scenes.