Chapter 16: The "Invitation".
Beltrán finally sat down at the desk beside his bed, his gaze drifting across several books.
"So it seems that most technology in this world is either heavily guarded or concentrated in Kynergrown," he muttered to himself as he silently skimmed through the text.
Two days had passed since Beltrán's return to the institute after the incident. Remaining on high alert, he had kept to himself, focusing on classes and training while believing he did not need to worry about his grades for the time being. Aside from his exhausting practice sessions—which he suspected would stop yielding meaningful results soon—Beltrán spent much of his time studying the material contained within his books.
For the moment, he had abandoned the idea of personally investigating Noah and the Gibraltar family. Given the current situation, Stuart was far more likely to achieve results than he was. Beltrán's network of contacts was practically nonexistent.
Throughout his time at the institute, most of his former friends had either rejected him outright or become openly hostile toward him. As a result, Beltrán lacked anything resembling a genuine friendship. Strangely enough, he found that realization rather interesting after recalling the countless novels from his previous world.
"Aren't nobles from influential families supposed to have everything handed to them on a silver platter?"
He understood perfectly why that cliché appeared so often.
Those stories sought to emphasize the advantages enjoyed by people born into powerful families, often casting them in antagonistic roles. After all, who had never felt powerless in the face of someone who possessed far more than them? It was easy to imagine how such privilege could twist a person's character and nurture a false sense of superiority.
Yet after living as Beltrán Leonhard, he had discovered a different kind of cruelty.
The people who constantly flattered nobility only did so in pursuit of favor.
At first, everything had been filled with fake smiles and fragile friendships.
It was obvious that his classmates had initially viewed Beltrán as a figure of authority because of his noble status. But the moment someone like Noah publicly humiliated him, they had thrown themselves at him like sharks chasing blood in the water.
"Make a god bleed, and everyone rushes to tear him apart."
Beltrán chuckled as he recalled a phrase he had once seen somewhere on the internet.
His eyes continued moving across the pages as he absorbed more useful information about the world.
Originally, he had postponed the idea of leveraging the superior knowledge stored within his mind. Recently, however, events had forced him to become less complacent. He intended to make use of every advantage available to him.
Returning to his earlier thoughts, most of the knowledge he possessed—physics, machinery, programming—seemed almost useless for the current Beltrán Leonhard.
The world's technology sat somewhere between an early industrial age and the medieval era.
While some concepts might allow him to innovate in certain fields, none of that would help his present circumstances. Besides, he had read countless novels where protagonists attempted to launch technological revolutions, only to attract the hostility of powerful organizations and influential figures seeking to destroy them. Sometimes it was because they threatened monopolies; other times, their inventions disrupted entire systems.
"Besides, I doubt most of those technologies would even work."
The existence of magic rendered many advancements unnecessary.
In a world where spells could allow people to travel vast distances or conjure fire from their hands, a mechanical revolution seemed far less appealing to the general population.
Shaking his head, Beltrán forced those thoughts aside.
He closed the book and stacked it atop several others he still intended to read.
Reflecting on his current situation, Beltrán realized that ever since he had acquired the memories and mentality of another person, he had become less focused and far more paranoid.
"We have Noah Gibraltar.
For some reason, he harbors a general hostility toward me—or perhaps toward my noble status. That's why he constantly seeks to humiliate me.
My best-case scenario is that he wants me to leave the institute.
Worst case? He might actually want me dead.
I can't completely rule out the possibility that I'm dealing with a young psychopath.
His behavior has revealed several interesting things. He appears to have some sort of relative whom I suspect serves as a protector assigned by the Gibraltar family. According to the information Stuart gathered, the Gibraltars are a highly influential family. I doubt they'd allow their heir to run around completely unsupervised.
There's also the possibility that Samantha is a sister who, for some reason, avoids publicly associating with Noah.
Surely someone at the academy would know if that were true.
The Gibraltars are foreigners in Recolta, and many students here are related to faculty members. Information like that should spread naturally.
If no one talks about it, then Samantha probably isn't officially recognized as a Gibraltar.
The family may have deliberately concealed her identity.
Maybe she's a cousin from a secondary branch assigned to watch him.
But even that explanation has problems.
There are times when she's clearly observing Noah and times when she isn't. There's no obvious pattern."
Beltrán continued thinking.
He had encountered Samantha twice under nearly identical circumstances before she suddenly disappeared for four full days.
He had returned to that location every day hoping to find her again.
She never appeared.
What had changed?
Viewing everything from a different perspective, Beltrán arrived at a possible answer.
"Before the competition, Larson seemed extremely confident he could defeat me.
That would explain his talkative attitude and why he left me alone in the locker rooms.
He seemed certain of something.
Maybe he knew we'd face each other in the final match.
Does that mean our confrontation was arranged beforehand?
It sounds ridiculous at first…
But didn't Larson wait until the very last event before participating?
I had my suspicions at the time, but I ignored them.
Maybe everything really is connected.
The same day the surprise competition was announced, Samantha approached me.
That's suspicious.
In fact, she was the one who found me."
Beltrán's thoughts accelerated.
Stuart would have stared blankly at him if he had been present. Beltrán had been sitting silently for nearly twenty seconds.
Suddenly, he tossed his books aside.
Several sheets of paper hidden beneath them were revealed.
Opening a drawer, he pulled out an inkwell and a fountain pen before rapidly beginning to write.
Competition.
Final Match with Larson.
Encounter with Samantha.
Teacher Suspicion.
In the center of the page, he wrote the relevant date.
Around it, he added names, events, and keywords.
His goal was simple:
Empty every thought from his mind and organize them physically.
Line after line connected one event to another.
Then, suddenly, a theory emerged.
One that connected nearly every piece.
Samantha had approached Beltrán both before and after the suspicious competition.
Initially, Beltrán had questioned how someone like Larson—a commoner—could persuade a teacher to risk manipulating the rules in his favor.
At the time, Beltrán's reputation had already been deteriorating.
A public defeat at Larson's hands would have dealt another severe blow.
If he had suffered another injury, his father might have forced him to leave the institute entirely.
"When I fell ill, the institute either received a report about my condition or expected consequences if it worsened.
Since I recovered before dawn, information regarding my return to classes must have been circulated.
Only someone inside the institute could have known that.
Which supports the possibility that at least one teacher wants me gone.
Samantha appeared merely to confirm my condition.
She could have passed that information to Larson or Noah.
Given how stubborn and prideful I am, it wouldn't have been difficult to predict that I'd participate in the competition.
The day after that, Samantha appeared again and checked my condition once more.
Then, almost immediately afterward, Noah took advantage of my lowered guard and deliberately injured me."
Beltrán paused.
"Maybe my theory isn't entirely correct.
But it isn't entirely wrong either.
This situation could be much bigger than I initially thought.
There may be multiple students and teachers involved."
Viewed from that perspective, the situation appeared significantly more dangerous.
Beltrán understood how people in positions of power tended to operate.
One day he could return home only to be stabbed.
Or poisoned.
"No. This was definitely Noah's plan."
Beltrán reached that conclusion quickly.
Samantha might have been an unexpected variable.
Perhaps Noah never even knew she had approached Beltrán.
Maybe she had entirely separate motives.
Perhaps she wanted to see whether Beltrán intended to retaliate.
Or whether he had uncovered Noah's scheme.
The reason Beltrán still believed Noah stood behind the competition was simple:
Noah's personality.
He was intelligent, but his impulsiveness and love of theatrics often overshadowed his planning ability.
There were too many flaws.
What if Beltrán had refused to participate?
What if he had exhausted himself earlier and deliberately skipped the final event against Larson?
"Heh. I'd love to have seen Larson's face if that had happened."
Beltrán laughed quietly.
Someone who truly wanted to ruin him would have ensured he had no choice but to face Larson.
Even refusing should have damaged his grades enough to hurt him.
Instead, there had been too many variables.
Rubbing the area above his eyebrows, Beltrán leaned back heavily in his chair.
"…This is annoying."
He laughed despite the irritation in his voice.
This meant he wasn't only dealing with Noah and Larson.
Samantha likely had her own motives.
And somewhere inside the institute, there was at least one teacher who wouldn't mind seeing Beltrán forced out.
But…
Why?
What had his family done to earn the hostility of so many influential people?
Just as he raised a hand to push back his increasingly long hair, his eyes landed on the page covered in keywords and connecting lines.
Then a voice interrupted him.
"Master Beltrán."
Eliette's voice immediately snapped him back to reality.
Without thinking, Beltrán crumpled the sheet into a ball and threw it out the window.
"Come in!"
The words left his mouth before he realized he could have simply hidden the paper.
"Why do I feel like I'm hiding contraband?" he thought bitterly.
Eliette entered the room wearing her maid uniform.
A small smile appeared on her face when she noticed the dirt and dust covering him after training with Sir Aliss.
"I came to remind you that it's bath time. Also, a message has arrived from your father. Sir Aliss will explain the details. He's waiting for you in the sitting room."
With that, Eliette excused herself and left.
Beltrán looked down at himself.
His training clothes were stained with mud, and several fresh scrapes covered his skin.
Once he became absorbed in studying or reflecting, he often shut himself away completely.
To his surprise, daily bathing was considered perfectly normal in this world.
Quickly changing into a linen shirt, he made his way toward the sitting room.
A large chandelier filled with pale lamps illuminated the area.
Beneath it stood a long sofa surrounding a polished table.
Sir Aliss sat on one of the larger couches, deep in thought.
Beltrán took a seat opposite him.
"Young Beltrán," Sir Aliss said, addressing him by name rather than calling him "Master." "A message has arrived from your father.
It seems your mother has given birth to a daughter.
He has requested your presence, along with that of your siblings.
We will depart today.
I will escort you there and bring you back in two days so your performance at the institute is not affected."
Beltrán froze.
A sister?