Early Spring 1901
The forest of Białowieża was eerily quiet, the stillness broken only by the occasional chirp of a distant bird. A small group 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, fearful of breaking his concentration.
A sharp crack split the silence, bang!, followed a heartbeat later by the startled cry of the elk. The animal bolted 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 other prey," he added curtly, signaling his men to move on.
Turning back to Alexei, the tsar straightened and declared with a faint smirk, "That was only the first shot of the hunt, a mere warm-up. Don't think for a moment your father is anything less than an expert marksman."
Alexei met the boast with an amused smile. Missing the first shot was unfortunate enough, but the true sting lay in the nobles' silent reactions. A few exchanged quick glances, lips pressed tight as if suppressing smirks. Others busied themselves adjusting gloves or clearing their throats, feigning indifference. In the presence of nobility, mockery often wore the mask of 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 gaze drifted to the revolver strapped at his father's side. The idea of wielding a firearm in one hand and a knife in the other intrigued him. If integrated properly into his combat style, it could greatly enhance his effectiveness at close range.
Memories from his first life surfaced, scenes from films where protagonists dominated both hand-to-hand combat and close-range firefights. The techniques were crude compared to the refined martial disciplines of the cultivation world, but the concept held promise. If he could merge firearms with blades and movement, the result could be formidable. For now, though, the rifle would be his first test.
It didn't take long for new prey to be found. Guided by the stalkers, they moved like shadows through the undergrowth, the crunch of leaves muted beneath careful steps. The forest closed in around them, thick trunks and twisted branches framing a corridor of silence.
Alexei stayed close to his father, the tsar's imposing figure moving ahead with quiet confidence. Behind them trailed attendants and aides, eyes fixed forward, their breaths shallow.
Through a gap in the brush, wild boars emerged, broad-shouldered, bristled, their snouts buried in the soil as they rooted for bulbs and tubers. No one moved once they were spotted. The air tightened with restraint.
The tsar signaled for positions, a silent command weighted with tradition. Everyone knew the rule: the first shot belonged to him. Until that moment, no finger would touch a trigger. The nobles would fire only after the tsar's rifle spoke.
He raised the rifle slowly, the barrel steady despite the still cold spring wind threading through the trees. His finger tightened.
The shot rang out.
The lead boar jerked violently and collapsed into the churned soil with a guttural squeal. For a heartbeat, the clearing froze. Then, once his kill was confirmed, chaos erupted.
The remaining boars scattered in a frenzy, tusks flashing as they tore through the brush. The nobles surged forward, rifles snapping to their shoulders. Shots echoed through the forest. One boar stumbled mid-stride, another fell in a rolling heap, and the rest vanished into the trees.
When the echoes faded, the sharp scent of gunpowder lingered in the cold air. The tsar stepped forward to inspect his kill, offering a faint, satisfied nod.
"See that, son? Your father is the best," he said, turning to Alexei, who remained close at his side.
The nobles finally allowed themselves to smile.
The hunt had truly begun..
The rest of the day passed in a blur of scouting and hunting. While the nobles, after felling their quarry, often drifted into discussions about politics and the empire's economic affairs, voices carrying through the crisp forest air, the hunt itself remained lively. Attendants ranged farther afield, tracking and bringing back additional game, piling it up for transport later.
When the signal to halt was given, 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 thoughts fixed on a single goal, persuading his father to let him at least hold a rifle. Simply holding it, without firing, was far less risky than pulling a trigger. Surely that could be allowed.
Dinner that evening was lavish, roasted venison, spiced root vegetables, and fresh bread still warm from the oven. Conversation flowed easily around the long table, buoyed by full stomachs and wine-softened tongues. Alexei ate heartily, but his attention kept drifting to his father, waiting for the right moment.
That moment came when the meal concluded. As his father rose to retire, Alexei quickly offered to walk him back to his chambers. They moved down the long corridor lit by flickering sconces, their warm glow casting dancing shadows across polished floors. Their footsteps echoed softly, accompanied by the steady tread of attendants following a few paces behind.
"Father," Alexei began cautiously, glancing up, "may I… at least hold the rifle tomorrow? I promise I won't fire it, just to see what it feels like in my hands."
The Tsar slowed, casting his son a sidelong look. For a moment, only the distant crackle of fireplaces broke the silence. At last, he let out a quiet chuckle and shook his head.
"It took you a while to bring that up," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I expected you'd ask sooner, though your mother and I agreed you wouldn't fire a rifle."
He paused, then nodded. "Very well. But your attendant will be beside you the entire time."
Alexei's face lit up, but before he could speak, his father turned to Nagorny.
"You will teach my son how to hold the rifle and explain how it works," the Tsar said, "but ensure no bullet comes anywhere near him. Understood?"
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Nagorny replied promptly.
"Good." The Tsar's smile deepened as he turned back to Alexei. "Satisfied, hmm?"
"Yes, Father. Thank you," Alexei said eagerly.
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 grinned, eyes bright with excitement.
"Actually," his father continued, "I've been thinking of adding this to your military studies. You're already far ahead from everyone your age. I spoke with your uncle, my brother, and he's agreed to tutor you once he returns to the capital. So learn something from this hunt. I want him to be impressed by your brilliance."
"Okay, Father. I can handle it," Alexei replied 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 as well.
"You brat," the Tsar said, chuckling again. "Now off to bed. We have many days of hunting ahead, and we'll need our strength."
"Goodnight, Father."
"Goodnight, my boy."
Alexei took his leave with Nagorny and Sednev, heading toward his chambers. The warmth of the lodge faded behind him, replaced by the hush of his own quarters. Once the door closed, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Tomorrow, at last, he would hold a rifle.
Sednev caught the glint in the Tsarevich's eyes and quickly guessed the cause. "It seems you're looking forward to the days ahead, Your Highness," he said with a faint, knowing smile, glancing at Nagorny.
"Of course," Alexei replied. "I've heard a rifle is a man's best friend in the military. It would do me good to make a best friend early."
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, he closed his eyes and began his nightly cultivation.
—-
The Next Morning
Frost clung to the earth like a thin sheet of glass, crunching under boots as the hunting party stirred to life. Alexei emerged from the lodge wrapped in a thick wool coat, his breath forming pale clouds in the cold air. Nagorny was already waiting by the steps, a rifle slung across his shoulder. He 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 merely a tool. It is an extension of the man who carries it. Treat it carelessly, and it will kill you. Treat it properly, and it will never betray you."
It was clear Nagorny was taking this training seriously. That suited Alexei perfectly. He nodded, hands buried in his coat pockets. "I understand…"
"You will," Nagorny replied, leading him toward a quiet corner of the grounds. Once they were alone, Nagorny unslung the weapon.
"This is a Mosin–Nagant M1891," he said. "Standard issue for the army. Solid, dependable, and accurate, if you know her well. This one has been customized for hunting."
He presented the rifle from muzzle to stock, his fingers moving with the practiced ease of a man who had done this countless times.
"First rule," Nagorny said, his voice firm. "Always keep the muzzle pointed away from anything you do not intend to kill. Even if the chamber is empty. Never forget that."
He demonstrated the ready position, the stock tucked against his side, the muzzle angled safely toward the ground. Then the port position, the rifle held across the chest, both hands firm but relaxed.
"Your left hand holds the forestock," Nagorny continued. "That's where your control comes from. Too tight, and you'll shake when aiming. Too loose, and the rifle will wander."
Alexei mirrored the grip, adjusting under Nagorny's guidance until it looked correct. The rifle was long for his height, and its weight should have been a burden, but Alexei handled it with surprising ease.
Nagorny had been worried at first that it was too early for the Tsarevich to handle a rifle. But seeing how easily Alexei managed its weight, he gradually relaxed and began teaching him more about how to carry it properly.
Nagorny demonstrated three methods for carrying a rifle when not aiming. The sling carry, worn over the shoulder with the butt down and the muzzle up. The trail carry, held in one hand with the muzzle angled forward and slightly down, away from the body. And the cradle carry, balanced across the crook of the elbow, the muzzle pointed to the side.
"The cradle carry is comfortable for long walks," Nagorny said, "but always keep the muzzle well away from your feet."
Then he nodded toward Alexei. "Now, bring it to your shoulder. One smooth motion, no fumbling. The butt should rest snugly in the hollow just above your arm joint. Not on the bone, unless you want a bruise you'll remember."
Alexei obeyed, lifting the rifle and letting the wooden stock settle into place. It felt awkward at first, like holding a tool not meant for his body, but he adjusted quickly.
"Good. Now look down the sights," Nagorny instructed. "Rear notch, front post. Line them up so the post is centered and level. Your target should sit just above the post, not directly on top of it."
Nagorny lowered his voice. "Remember, Your Highness, even before firing, you must think like a marksman. Calm breathing. Steady hands. You and the rifle must move as one. Don't fight it, but guide it instead."
They spent the rest of the morning walking the forest's edge. Alexei practiced 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 repeatedly reminded him to keep his finger outside the trigger guard unless ready to fire.
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 foreign 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 tired yet?" he teased, though genuine curiosity glinted in his eyes.
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 his fatigue. "Not tired at all," he said as he took his seat.
The Tsar chuckled, raising his cup. "Good. Then we'll see what you can do in the days to come."
Alexei lifted his own cup in response but chose not to speak further. His thoughts were already elsewhere, on what he had felt when he tried to channel 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 hunt came to an end, and they returned to the lodge for dinner. When night fell and it was time to retire, Alexei insisted on keeping the rifle in his room. He argued that since it contained no bullets, it posed no real danger.
His father hesitated at first but eventually relented, ordering Nagorny and Sednev to thoroughly check both the rifle and the room to ensure there were no bullets before leaving.
Alexei was delighted to have his request granted. He reflected that he had never once thrown a tantrum since birth, though, was insisting on keeping the rifle considered one? He wasn't sure. Regardless, he felt grateful for his father's generosity. It hadn't even taken ten minutes for him to give in.
Father really is softhearted, Alexei mused.
If it had been one of his sisters making the demand, especially with tears or a tantrum, Alexei was certain his father wouldn't have lasted even half that time.
Upon arrival, they carefully inspected every corner of the room, from the furniture to his garments, going so far as to check the Tsarevich himself. Alexei didn't protest. He knew better than to cause trouble, and he understood his limits. Even as the heir to the empire, there were boundaries he could not cross.
Once satisfied, his attendants issued their final warnings, reminding him not to do anything reckless. Alexei nodded earnestly, assuring them that 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 took a warm bath first, letting the tension drain from his body, 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 perfectly 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.