My Borderline Supervillain-Slash-Hero System-Chapter 78: On the Eve of the Tournament

Only three days remained before the grand opening of the Academy’s Fresher Meet Tournament—an event that turned the entire Artemis City, the City of the Awakened, into a hive of anticipation and preparation.

The tournament wasn’t just a showcase of youthful talent. It was a battleground of prestige, a measuring stick for all Awakening families. It was where strength, bloodline quality, and influence collided under the public eye.

For the noble and elite families, this was more than a game—it was a statement.

Among those preparing, the most notable were the Five Super Families, the Three High Nobility Clans, and the Five Medium Nobility Houses.

They were all sharpening their blades, both literally and politically, vying to prove their dominance through their prodigious freshers.

But none cast a longer, darker shadow than the Dreadthorn Lineage—a Super Family known for their mastery of forbidden magics and shadow manipulation.

Inside the Dreadthorn Southern Stronghold

At one of their fortified training compounds in the southwestern district of Artemis City, hundreds of young heirs and hopefuls trained vigorously. Magical spells echoed across the courtyards. Swords clanged against enchanted barriers. The air crackled with power and the shouts of discipline.

Suddenly, the entire compound paused.

A middle-aged man strode into the open-air dojo—tall, sharp-featured, and emanating a commanding aura that made even the strongest bow instinctively.

"Commander Tiren Dreadthorn," the crowd murmured.

Medals lined his decorated military coat. His strides were measured, his expression unreadable.

Everyone—from youthful trainees to seasoned instructors—saluted him in unison.

"Welcome home, Commander!" they cried out.

Tiren raised his hand, silencing the cheers and whispers.

"I’ve been appointed by the Supreme Head of the Family to oversee this stronghold," he announced, his voice cold but resolute. "From this day forward, I take full responsibility for all activities here. Continue your training. As for the senior representatives—follow me to the meeting hall."

With that, he turned sharply, and a dozen high-ranking family members followed.

Inside the Strategy Hall

The hall was grand and ceremonial. A round table dominated the center, with golden runes etched across its marble surface. Servants in crisp black uniforms arranged lavish breakfasts for the guests, placing trays silently before each seated elder.

Commander Tiren took the central high seat, and the other fifty senior members assumed their positions, arranged by rank.

He wasted no time.

"Report. Only what matters," Tiren said flatly.

A young man stood. He had calm eyes and carried himself like a bureaucrat. "Commander, I am Sylvester Dreadthorn, assigned to Ursa City and responsible for relaying sensitive matters to the main family within Artemis."

"I already know who you are," Tiren interrupted sharply. "I’ve read every one of your personnel files. No self-glorification. Just get to the point."

Sylvester swallowed and continued. "Sir, these are compiled reports of our financials—family businesses, resource branches, and artifact sales. All numbers regarding profits and losses are inside."

He passed a neatly organized file forward. Tiren skimmed through it, flipping pages with precision. A few minutes passed in silence.

"Acceptable. Carry on." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Sylvester nodded, but his tone grew graver. "The next matter... it concerns an event that took place a few nights ago. It’s not just financial—it’s a matter of honor."

Tiren’s expression darkened. "I warned you once. Speak clearly, or be silent."

"Yes, sir. A masked individual infiltrated the city and trampled twenty-seven of our Guest Houses. Each one. In a single night."

The room fell into stunned silence.

"He said nothing more than this—’Take down the leaked information about Zane Carter.’ He overwhelmed our members without raising a weapon. Just his aura forced dozens into submission."

Gasps broke out from a few of the elders.

Sylvester pressed on. "Commander, I believe this matter should be reported directly to the Academy board—and even to the Mayor’s office."

A few of the older family heads began murmuring in agreement. The insult was intolerable.

Commander Tiren’s hand slammed the table.

"Enough."

Everyone froze.

"You want to report that we were humiliated?" he said, voice low but sharp. "That a single man crushed our strongholds and left us quaking in our robes?"

Sylvester tried to speak, but the commander cut him off again.

"No. This matter will not leave this room. Not one word."

Tiren stood, casting a cold gaze around the table.

"Instead, identify every fool in our house who participated in that idiotic smear campaign against Zane Carter. Start with the ones right here—because I guarantee some of you were involved."

Many in the room visibly flinched.

"Those who violated the rules of discretion and dragged the Dreadthorn name through the mud will be... dealt with."

Commander Tiren’s tone made it clear—this was personal.

Yet even with his declaration, the unease around the table persisted. Several senior members still looked disgruntled, unwilling to accept his stance.

Tiren noticed.

"You don’t get it? You don’t like it?" he barked, his voice thundering across the hall. "None of that matters. This isn’t just my order—it comes directly from the higher echelons of our family. And I’ll spell it out clearly: No one is to go after the masked man. Not a single step. Do you understand me?"

That silenced the murmurs for good.

If even the Dreadthorn Family’s uppermost hierarchy had chosen to back off, then the masked intruder had to be someone truly untouchable. The kind of person whose name alone forced the shadows to retreat. Whatever forces were at play, it was already beyond their grasp.

Tiren scanned the room, then pointed a finger across the table.

"Hunter Dreadthorn. The Fresher Ranking Tournament is only days away. I’m told you’re overseeing our preparations. Good. Begin the briefing—now. And I want visuals this time. Real data. Not numbers. Show me everything."

"Yes, sir," Hunter replied, quickly tapping across his tablet.

A 3D holographic projection emerged in the center of the round table, illuminating the faces of every senior present. The training courtyard appeared in high clarity, showing dozens of young Dreadthorn trainees mid-practice—casting spells, performing mana control drills, sparring with real weapons under the supervision of elite instructors.

The projection shifted from segment to segment—water-based duelists, heavy weapon users, elemental mages—all honing their skills under brutal regimens.

The room fell silent, entranced by the footage.

The clip ended, and another one began.

"This is this year’s mana formation report," Hunter explained. "We’ve confirmed a record—78 freshers have successfully broken the First Threshold and created their One-Star Mana Core."

The projection zoomed in on a group of young men and women, showcasing their efforts—struggling in early stages, then pushing through to successful awakening. Some had tears in their eyes. Others roared in triumph.

Before Hunter could elaborate, Commander Tiren cut in sharply.

"Enough of this sentimental fluff. Who’s the best?"

Without hesitation, Hunter brought up a filtered screen.

Six youthful faces appeared, each one surrounded by dynamic text—detailed stats, preferred weapons, unique abilities, and awakening potential.

"Riven Dreadthorn, Kaelin Dreadthorn, Selvara Dreadthorn, Coren Dreadthorn, Viraine Dreadthorn, and Torren Dreadthorn. Two young ladies, four lads. These six rank at the top based on performance, control, and potential."

Tiren stared at the projection, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Which one of them is the strongest?"

Hunter hesitated. "We haven’t conducted the final evaluation yet, sir. The rankings are still being refined—"

"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" Tiren barked, rising from his seat.

He looked around the table, already walking toward the exit.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we’re not going to wait for another damn report. We’re going to find out ourselves—now. Follow me. Let’s go pick our champion."

The room erupted into a frenzy of motion. The senior representatives quickly stood, many sighing in relief that the intense questioning had ended—for now.

And then, one by one, they rushed out of the hall behind their commander.

The same thing was happening in every other Super Families and Noble Families.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺