Combat cantrips are one of the strangest design choices in modern Dungeons & Dragons. They were meant to give spellcasters something to do once their real spells ran out, a small trick to keep them useful between moments of power. Instead, they became an infinite engine of damage that quietly rewrote what it means to wield magic.
Fire Bolt shows it best. One action, a flash of fire, a single die of damage. It looks minor, but there is no limit to how often it can be cast. A round in D&D lasts six seconds, which means ten rounds a minute. A wizard can cast Fire Bolt six hundred times every hour, all day, every day. Taken literally, that is not a cantrip, it is a flamethrower with endless fuel.
That logic collapses when you compare it to leveled spells. Burning Hands costs a precious spell slot and can only be used a few times before rest. Yet the same wizard can hurl unlimited fire without fatigue. Why does a small burst of magic deplete you while an infinite barrage does not?
The usual defenses fall flat. Some argue that action economy keeps things balanced, that higher level spells still matter, and that no one ever uses cantrips thousands of times. Others claim a wizard’s Fire Bolt is no different from a fighter’s sword or a ranger’s bow. But Fire Bolt is not a weapon. It is a loop, a button to press when nothing else is left to do, and it grows stronger on its own. Cantrip damage scales automatically with level, free and effortless. The moment magic became infinite and self-improving, it stopped being extraordinary and became routine.
If D&D’s world truly followed its own rules, wizards would be treated like siege engines. One apprentice could burn down a village by sunset. Armies would recruit or destroy them. Cities would outlaw them out of fear. Instead, the setting quietly ignores what the mechanics imply and pretends these spells are minor.
The result is that it all feels hollow. What was once strange and fantastical has become predictable and safe. When something has no limit, it stops being a story and starts being a system.
The fix is simple. Magic should never be unlimited. It does not have to be punishing, only real. Casting should feel like work, something that takes focus or leaves a mark. Fire Bolt and every other combat cantrip prove the same truth. It is not magic anymore. It is mundane.