Wizard: Building a Golem Legion From Zero-Chapter 48 - 46: Mercer Iron Star

"Thank you," Allen said before stepping into the Black Tower of the Forge.

A blast of scorching air hit him, a stark contrast to the cool air outside.

This place was nothing like a traditional Mage Tower. Exposed energy conduits and complex Alchemy Arrays were visible on the walls, with the light of Runes occasionally flashing through them.

Occasionally, a silent Alchemy Construct would stride past him with heavy steps, its metal joints emitting a CLANKING sound and its eyes glowing with an eerie blue light.

Following Edgar’s directions, Allen quickly found Public Lecture Hall Seven.

The classroom door was open, and twenty or thirty people were already seated inside.

Unlike the massive lecture halls for general courses, which could hold hundreds or even thousands, this was more of a small, tiered amphitheater.

Allen’s arrival drew the attention of everyone in the room.

All those present were Advanced Apprentices, their auras far stronger and more refined than any first-year student’s.

Seeing this unfamiliar face, many of them looked at Allen with a mixture of scrutiny and curiosity.

Allen scanned the classroom. A few apprentices with particularly potent auras sat in the front row. Their expressions were rapt, and they had notebooks, Recording Crystals, and personal terminals laid out before them. They were clearly regulars in this course.

Apprentices in the middle section were gathered in small groups, murmuring to one another.

In the back, a few people were scattered about, looking more like they were just auditing the class or filling seats.

He took an empty seat in the back and waited quietly.

The minutes ticked by. As class time drew near, a few more apprentices trickled into the classroom.

Finally, a tall figure appeared in the doorway.

It was a tall, middle-aged man with the air of a scholar.

He was bald, his polished head reflecting the light.

His most striking feature was his left arm; from the shoulder down, it had been completely replaced by a complex mechanical limb that gleamed with a metallic luster.

The arm was covered in intricate gears, pistons, and energy conduits. Its five metal fingers flexed nimbly, making a soft whirring sound.

This was Mercer Iron Star.

The moment he stepped into the classroom, the low buzz of conversation died instantly. All eyes fixed on him, filled with reverence and fear.

Mercer Iron Star strode to the lectern and swept his gaze across the room. His eyes rested on Allen for less than half a second before moving on.

He was teaching "Fundamentals of Mechanical Bodies," a specialized course for Advanced Apprentices. Allen didn’t have the textbook yet and found it difficult to follow, but he recorded the entire lecture using his Dseek.

The class lasted a full two hours.

When Mercer announced that class was over, most apprentices looked both relieved and as if they hadn’t gotten enough.

A few apprentices from the front row immediately swarmed him, trying to ask questions, but Mercer simply waved them off, motioning for them to consult the reference list before turning to leave.

’Now’s my chance.’

Allen rose to his feet, moved through the crowd, and approached the lectern.

His actions once again drew the attention of every apprentice still in the room.

Seeing this stranger walk straight up to the departing Master Mercer, they all stopped in their tracks, ready to watch the show.

"Master Mercer," Allen called out from behind him.

Mercer Iron Star stopped, his imposing frame turning to face him.

His eyes, glowing with a faint red light, finally fixed on Allen.

The gaze was emotionless, like a high-precision scanner analyzing the composition and structure of the strange apprentice who dared to stop him after class.

"What is it?"

His voice was low and resonant, each syllable seeming to echo from a metallic chest, utterly devoid of inflection.

The remaining apprentices froze, their gazes darting between Allen and Mercer.

In the Black Tower of the Forge, Master Mercer’s patience was a notoriously scarce resource. The courage required to approach him was directly proportional to the likelihood of being mercilessly shut down.

Allen offered no explanation. He simply held out the Crystal Letter, personally crafted by Lecia Ellis, with both hands.

The Silver Wizard’s Mark on the letter was proof of its significance.

Mercer’s gaze shifted from Allen’s face to the letter, which he took with his good right hand.

With a single glance, he took the letter and drew out the attached transcript—Allen’s.

The transcript, filled with a string of perfect scores, might have elicited gasps elsewhere. But to Mercer, it seemed to be little more than a spec sheet for an acceptable component.

He finished reading it without comment, folded the letter and transcript, and handed them back to Allen.

"Come with me."

With that, he turned and strode out of the classroom with heavy steps.

As he walked, his mechanical arm emitted a faint, rhythmic whirring that mingled with the heavy thud of his boots on the floor.

He left a classroom full of stunned apprentices in his wake.

The rebuke or dismissal they had all been expecting never came.

Master Mercer was actually leaving with the new student.

This outcome was more surprising than any dramatic confrontation would have been.

Allen put the letter away and followed silently behind Mercer.

He kept a three-step distance from the master—not too close, not too far—the perfect social buffer to show respect without appearing standoffish.

The corridors of the Black Tower of the Forge had no elegant tapestries or floating candlelight. Instead, the walls were covered with exposed, thick metal pipes and power conduits.

The pipes were coated in a layer of white frost that radiated a palpable chill, while the adjacent power conduits glowed a scorching red, emitting waves of heat you could feel just by being near them.

Hot and cold, two completely different energy systems, coexisted in this hallway without issue, bound by some higher law.

Mercer led the way in silence, his quietude a form of pressure in itself.

At last, they came to a door. It had no handle, only a complex, circular Alchemy Array.

Mercer pressed his mechanical left arm into the center of the Array. The light of the Array shifted from red to an eerie blue, and the sound of countless intricate gears turning within the door was followed by a heavy unlocking sound.

The door slid open, revealing the space beyond.

This was Mercer’s office—or more accurately, his private, high-level workshop. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The room was enormous, with ceilings at least five meters high.

Instead of bookshelves, the walls were lined with massive tool cabinets filled with innumerable, neatly categorized parts, molds, and specialized instruments.

A massive, three-dimensional model of a large Golem under construction hovered in the center of the room. Countless points of light flickered across it, simulating energy flows and structural stress.

A large desk was piled high with blueprints, metal components, and several active analytical devices.

"Sit."

Mercer pointed to a chair carved from a single block of metal, then casually deactivated the Golem model.

Allen sat down, his back ramrod straight. The chair’s surface was cold and unyielding.

Mercer turned and leaned against the control console, his mechanical arm resting casually at his side.

"Lecia’s letter and this transcript prove you have the basic aptitude for learning. But that doesn’t mean you understand what you learn."

He paused, scrutinizing Allen. "You chose the school of Macro-Construction and Domination. Tell me, what is its core principle?"

It was an open-ended question—and the first test.

"Systems."

Allen’s voice was clear and steady. "The core of the school of Macro-Construction and Domination is not the creation of powerful individuals, but the construction of a ’system’ capable of self-sustainment, self-regulation, and the achievement of specific goals. Whether it’s an assembly line, a Golem Legion, or a Floating City, the essence is complex systems engineering. The Wizard is the system’s architect and its highest-level administrator."

Mercer’s expression remained unchanged.

Allen continued, "A single Mechanical Body, no matter how powerful, is just a single point. The goal of this school is to connect countless points into lines through an optimized structure, and then weave those lines into a plane."

"This ’plane’ is what we define as the ’system.’ Its power is not merely additive; it is exponential. Its strength is derived from standards, structure, and process."

He wasn’t quoting any textbook from the Wizarding World. He was explaining the discipline entirely in his own words, with a mindset that was almost reminiscent of modern industrial and systems theory from Earth.

Mercer was silent for a moment, the only sound in the room the faint hum of his instruments.

"Interesting," he finally said, his assessment so concise it was almost miserly. "It seems you do more than just rote memorization. Your understanding of the material is deeper than that of the last few idiots who came to see me."