SSS Awakening: I Can Class Change at will

The water exploded outward from the tip in every direction, surging like a tsunami, a wall of water that crashed across the throne room floor and swept through everything in its path. Evolvers were knocked off their feet. Barricades were submerged. The water flooded across the stone, hitting his opponents.

Layla’s troops floundered in the knee-deep water, struggling to find their footing.

Layla herself stood on her throne’s elevated platform, the water lapping at the base of the steps. Her red eyes looked up at Moon hovering near the ceiling.

Moon summoned his purple Raiju.

The wolf formed between his hands, larger than any he had cast before. Its violet body crackled with an intensity that made the water below ripple from the static alone. “Hurry up! Cast a platform to rise over the wate-” Layla commanded.

“Go.” Moon sent it downward, toward the water itself.

A few mages managed to raise a platform under their feet, responding to her will.

The purple wolf dove from the ceiling and touched the surface.

Purple lightning exploded across the flooded throne room. It raced through the water in every direction simultaneously, branching into thousands of arcs that found every body standing in it. The electricity didn’t discriminate, killing everyone it touched without regrets or resistance.

The mages on their platforms sighed in relief, looking at the horrifying effect of Moon’s attack. But before they could celebrate surviving for an extra minute—

Crack!

The platforms they raised from earth began to crack.

Their eyes widened in fear as they lost their footing, falling down to the water, tasting the same torment as their teammates.

[You have gained 5,000 Lives]

[You have gained 7,500 Lives]

[You have gained 12,500 Lives]

[You have gained 6,200 Lives]

The notifications flashed in rapid succession, stacking on top of each other faster than Moon could read them. A smile spread across his face.

Below him, the screams began.

They echoed off every wall, every pillar, every corner of the throne room. Dozens of voices crying out at once as purple lightning tore through their bodies and souls simultaneously. [You have gained 8,100 Lives]

[You have gained 12,500 Lives]

[You have gained 7,200 Lives]

[You have gained 12,500 Lives] [You have leveled up!]

Those that did spawn after their first deaths, emerged into the same electrified water and were struck again immediately. Their second screams were weaker than the first, until their voices seized…forever.

Moon’s subordinates, the ones who had been fighting their own cursed teammates moments ago, had retreated to the edges of the room after getting orders from the archer who saw Moon’s idea at a glance. They watched the scene in silence. The brute’s mouth hung open in shock. The archer stood perfectly silent, his bow lowered, his eyes quivering in excitement.

They gulped in unison, each one silently, profoundly grateful that the young man hovering near the ceiling was on their side. “Boss is terrifying.” Nobody disagreed.

The archer stared at the carnage below, the purple lightning still arcing through the water in pulses, and said nothing. There was nothing to say. What they were witnessing wasn’t a battle anymore. The tank sat down on the floor to rest for a moment, his shield resting beside him. He let out a long, shaking breath.

“Remind me to never make him angry.”

“You needed reminding?” One of the mages replied quietly, an awkward smile on his face.

The screams had stopped. Moon descended from the ceiling slowly, his feet touching down on dry stone. The purple lightning faded from his arms, the last arcs dying between his fingers.

His gaze turned toward the throne.

Layla had already died three times to his spell. She was a Witch. Her power had never been in her own body or control over the natural elements. It lay in the strength of the people she controlled, in the curses she wove, in the web of servants she had spent long constructing.

When her subordinates fell, she had nothing left.

Bodies littered the floor. The chained men lay motionless, Lukas was crumpled beside a shattered pillar, missing an arm. Joseph lay face down in puddle of water, his staff laid beside him.

Every single person in the room was dead. Moon’s combination of water and purple lightning had destroyed them all.

I only have a few minutes left on Life Burn, my mana is also at an all time low.

Moon’s gaze landed on the last person alive— Layla.

She stood on her throne platform….or what remained of it. The once majestic throne had been reduced to rubble by the lightning, the stone cracked, the dark fabrics burned away. The platform she stood on was the only semi-elevated ground left in the room, a small island in a sea of destruction.

Her dark hair hung around her face in wet strands. Her armor was scorched in places, destroyed in others.

Burns ran across her slender arms where the lightning had caught her. She was soaked, trembling, humbled in every way possible.

Moon began walking towards her.

Each footfall echoed through the silent throne room, like the sound of a judge’s gavel, ordering the end of her ruling.

Layla watched him approach.

She didn’t run or scream for subordinates who would never answer again.

She simply stood there, her red eyes fixed on the young man walking toward her through the wreckage of her kingdom.

Whether because of her deaths or for another reason entirely, the curse Layla had placed on Moon’s subordinates had lifted. The glazed look in their eyes cleared, their weapons lowered, and they stood in silence watching the scene unfold before them.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Moon stopped a meter from Layla summoning his sword to his right hand.

~Crackle~

The last traces of his mana coated the blade in a thin sheath of purple lightning.

Layla looked at the sword. Then at Moon.

Her red eyes were steady. Whatever she was feeling in this moment, she held it behind those blood-red irises and refused to let it show.

“Good fight, Layla.” Moon said quietly. “You are one of the few people to ever push me to this limit. I commend you for that.”

He paused.

“But as you know, there is only one victor today. And that is me.”

Moon drove the sword through her chest.

The blade passed through clothes, through flesh, through bone. Her red eyes widened for a single instant, then softened. Her lips parted, and a thin line of blood traced down her chin.