One hit from those magical attacks would surely wipe out any player foolish enough to get close. The range of the armies' spells was terrifying—massive explosions blooming across a five-hundred-meter radius with Jibblinplip at the center, shaking the plains like an earthquake.
Yet despite the spectacle, despite the raw destructive power poured into every spell, the giant ooze didn't slow down. Not even a little.
The only reason the armies managed to maintain such nonstop destruction was because of how many battalions worked together. Dozens of magic users rotated their attacks, taking turns so no one ran out of mana at the same time. When one group finished casting, another fired immediately, keeping the assault constant, relentless, and overwhelming.
Information had circulated earlier—if Jibblinplip took repeated magical damage of the same type, it would adapt and become immune to it. So the magic users devised a solution: never use the same element twice in a row.
