What kind of Mana User Am I? (2)

*Fufufu*

A cute chuckle came from Julia, completely immersed in her book.

Of course, Voltaire didn't mind that her favorite maid's attention wasn't on him. In fact, he's glad she's not paying attention to him while he's brainstorming.

It would be quite difficult for him to concentrate if she's watching him.

Besides, Julia is still an 8-year-old kid.

And kids are supposed to be free to do whatever they want.

Julia, on the other hand, is a kid who was forced to be a responsible person at such a young age, working to be of help to her struggling family.

As an oh-so respectable adult in his past life, of course, Voltaire understand her favorite maid need some time for herself to do whatever she wants even for a bit.

Hence, Voltaire wouldn't mind if Julia is not always by her sight as long as she's doing okay.

Thankfully, Julia has only had an interest in books and sweets, making it possible to be on Voltaire's side while reading her book.

As for sweets, Julia, as a personal maid, have enough authority to ask a favor to the other servants to get her one from the kitchen.

In the end, it's rare to see these two apart unless there's something going on.

Considering how much she loves books, Julia still glances to Voltaire exactly every three minutes like a clockwork.

'She was like a well maid robot when she does that.'

Voltaire mused, appreciating how efficient Julia is between her responsibility as a maid and hobby.

Nonetheless, Voltaire turned back his concentration to himself once more.

The easiest way is to stabbed himself and get done with it.

The issue is, there's no sharp or even a pointy objects inside his room.

All he can see are soft and mellow objects like pillows, cushion, and even his crib is covered by cotton.

That's how overprotective his parents are compare to his parents in his last life.

Most of the time, Voltaire is glad his parents in this world care for him deeply despite the way he acts around Benedict.

It's not the case in his current situation though.

So stabbing or wounding himself using an object is eliminated from his already limited options.

The next method he came up with was clenching his fist tightly until it bled.

Even though he's a lot stronger than a normal baby because of the blessings, it is still impossible to make his second idea happen.

Why?

Well, he's a baby with a soft and squishy hands!

It wouldn't matter how much strength he put gripping his fist with that kind of hands.

He immediately dismissed the absurd idea and move on.

He still has a couple of ideas left in his head, but all of it are self inflicted pain like the previous ones.

Voltaire, of all people, know that he's doing things recklessly. However, he's the type of person that if you show or give him an idea to solve a problem, he's going to stick to it at the very end without thinking outside of the box.

It's the same case when Mathilda thought of him as a 'genius' so he decided to pretend as one.

Granted that the ceremony showed him the simplest yet wicked idea yesterday by wounding an innocent child just to see if the wounds would heal, there's no doubt Voltaire will think of ideas similar to that painful method.

Despite having suicidal ideas, they were currently of no use.

'FU*K! If I have a little more freedom in my own body... This sh*t would never be a problem.'

Or so he said, feeling frustrated.

In his frustration, his mana began to leak without him noticing it.

Until the whole room was covered with the purple color mana of his.

Which is again, invisible in Julia's eyes.

Meanwhile, Voltaire continues to complain inwardly.

He imagine if his mana had flow into the bottle yesterday, then his problem today would never happened.

Swinging a sword may not be that bad.

Killing a monster with a sword or any kind of weapon like the protagonist in mangas sounds thrilling.

As for supports.

Having an ability to heal yourself is something else on its own.

You don't need to worry about getting stabbed anymore and can be as reckless as you want.

Although it's your fault if you end up dead due to your impulsiveness.

Rangers? I don't have any idea about it. Is there a chance it's similar to those people who attacks from long distances?

Hence the name 'Ranger'?

Let's see...

Voltaire imagine a gun has been fired and the bullet is coming with speed impossible to see with human eyes for some reason.

And then...

He saw a purple light drifting in his eyes with unimaginable speed.

He followed its path, and at the end of it, he saw a hole.

Before the ceremony, all he did in his free time was stare at the ceiling for almost every damn day, until he was able to memorize every little detail about the ceiling.

He's certain it's the first time he saw that hole.

Furthermore, smoke can be seen emanating from the hole, although it's quite hard to notice unless one looks closely.

'That purple light... I-it's mine, right'

Is it because he imagine a bullet?

Then, he tried again...

Another purple light buried a hole in his ceiling. This time he saw it clearly.

And again... And again...

Until a barrage of purple light causes a lot of holes in his room.

Not only his ceiling, but even the paintings, the curtain, his walls, and the high end of his door all had tiny holes due to his lack of mana control.

In conclusion, his guess is correct. He was the reason of the massive destruction of his room.

It happens because he thinks a ranger is someone who uses a gun or a ranged weapon.

'So... Rangers are like combatants who fight from distance? Considering people have attributes like fire, wind, water, etc... Isn't that basically something like a mage from novels, manga, and RPGs?'

'What's the difference then? I guess I will find that out in the future'

Voltaire dismissed about the things he considered 'small details' for the time being and changed his intentions towards to bigger question at the moment.

Is he a Ranger?

'N-no, of course not! I refuse to be called a 'she' or 'her' by that simpleton. This happens because i imagined a bullet traveling in the speed of sound hitting its target. Right? Right? Yeah, that's definitely the case... If I imagine something different... A sword slash screams dangerous all over, so how about a sword only?'

So he was saying, and imagined a plain ol' sword.

The very next moment, his mana started to gather and materialize... And the result is...

An even more sloppy looking purple sword bobbing up and down in the air.

Is that even a sword? The handle had the same length as the blade, and speaking of blades, it's all curvy and doesn't have the sharpness like a sword does.

'Maybe it's because I lack mana control? Anyhow, now I'm certain that I'm not just a Ranger'

He remembers what Julia had told him earlier, that everyone has a role. If he can make a sword using his mana, then there's a possibility he can fight in close quarter combat in the future like a swordsman.

Not just that, he has the potential to fight from distance considering what he did earlier.

'I can see a bright future ahead for myself'

He giggles with enthusiasm.

In the middle of his daydreaming, he didn't notice that Julia had left the room and now coming back with Mathilda and Vivienne along with a few knights, maids, and butlers.

"Voltaire!"

Mathilda shouted, her voice coming from the hallway.

This startled and woke him up from daydreaming. He remains calm and suppress his mana once more before Mathilda arrives.

What's happening right now is his secret no one should know after all.

This didn't take long as his mana is almost depleted after some trials.

When Mathilda arrived at the room she ignores all the messy and destroyed decorations and headed directly to her son.

She hold him in her embrace with a worried look.

"Young Master!"

Followed by Vivienne and instructed the butlers to investigate and the knights to patrol the castle as soon as she saw the status of the room.

Then Julia came last, also catching her breath and somehow she has bruises all over her arms and legs.

Voltaire had confusion written all over his face.

He looks around to know what's going on and remembered what he did earlier.

Only then had he realized what a wreck of a mess he had caused.

He was so drawn by his mana display that he had forgotten about Julia's well-being.

A total contradiction of what he wants.

At this point, the little progress he discovered today became meaningless.

He has an idea as to why Julia got those bruises—no, he's certain... He is certain he's the one to blame for it.

"Julia, you should go and ask my husband to treat your injuries."

Vivienne ordered.

"...But the young mast–"

"You've done well protecting my son. You don't know how grateful I am to you. Voltaire seems to like you too. So please treat your injuries first before something bad happens."

Mathilda pleaded in a gentle manner.

Ultimately, Julia followed her orders and left the room while some maids were assisting her.

'She's protecting me?'

He thought wanting to slap his face if he could.

Voltaire was disappointed to himself.

Sure he didn't intend to go things in this direction, but his carelessness, idiocy, and incompetence were the reason he ended up hurting Julia.

One of the person she holds dearest.

Suddenly, he felt his tears slowly streaming down his face.

It's not his usual infant tears.

Despite feeling regretful and dejected about his actions, he doesn't have a plan to apologize.

Apologizing won't change what just happened.

Gladly, Julia isn't seriously hurt. This will helps Voltaire to go on without a burden in his mind.

Instead, he will use his shortcomings to reflect on his actions and promise himself to not let this happen again.

He decided from this very moment to only practice when no one's around until he mastered and understood more of his mana.