Round 132

The walls' synchronized breathing accelerates into a frenetic rhythm, each heavy exhale accompanied by a low rumble that vibrates through the stone. The grinding noise grows louder, more insistent—somewhere between boulders shifting and machinery grinding. A section of the wall behind Silra bursts into sudden, violent growth as bioluminescent tendrils erupt from previously dormant spores. They quiver with anticipation, pulsing with sickly light that casts everything in an eerie, flickering glow.

Jeane's crimson eyes narrow as she studies Halie's corrupted right arm with clinical horror. The tendrils are definitely metabolizing her divine magic now rather than simply being purified by it—active evolution happening in real-time. That's the problem: every second Halie maintains that corridor channel feeds the enemy upstairs exactly what it needs to develop permanent resistance against divine magic. The sorceress forces herself to maintain the 20-meter barrier radius around Silra, wings beating slowly for stability as arcane strain builds.

I understand your tactical assessment clearly now—you're saying that maintaining this channel for sixty seconds feeds the enemy intelligence upstairs exactly what it needs to develop permanent resistance against divine magic. My corrupted right arm pulses ominously, tendrils writhing beneath translucent skin as if responding to my focus. But here's what you're not considering: if we let Silra lose her arm and retreat with containment intact but without resolving the floor acid issue, we'll be right back here next time with the same problem plus hardened enemy defenses.