Wizard: Building a Golem Legion From Zero-Chapter 49 - 47: Mass Production??

Master Mercer straightened up. His mechanical arm emitted a faint whirring of gears, and the shadow cast by his towering figure completely enveloped Allen.

"Ideology is the foundation of the tower. But for the tower to stand, it also requires knowledge and resources."

Mercer’s voice grew deeper than before, the resonance from his metal chest becoming more pronounced, as if every word were forged in the depths of a furnace:

"Listen well, apprentice. First, my advanced Meditation Method—’Myriad Machine Resonance’—costs one thousand five hundred Low-Level Magic Stones. This is the price of knowledge."

"Second, tuition for the Black Tower of the Forge’s specialized courses, plus permission to use its public facilities and basic resources. Two thousand Low-Level Magic Stones per year."

"Third, when you advance to an Official Wizard in the future, you will need to purchase three Core Witchcraft models from me. Each one costs eight hundred Magic Stones."

"Fourth, a basic Alchemy Laboratory that will allow you to create Golems. A standard setup costs two thousand Magic Stones per year."

He rattled off the string of cold numbers without a pause, each one landing like a screaming cannonball.

He gestured toward Allen with his mechanical arm, pointing from a distance.

"The Macro-Construction Domination School you’ve chosen is a bottomless pit paved with Magic Stones. Without the support of a multi-generational Wizard Clan or the backing of a massive organization, you won’t even be able to scrape together the standard parts for the most inferior Alchemy Puppet, let alone that grand ’system’ you spoke of."

Mercer’s gaze suddenly sharpened, as if he intended to dissect Allen’s soul right out of his body for analysis.

"I don’t take in paupers, and I certainly don’t offer loans. Now, tell me, Allen Wesren, are you prepared for these fees—costs so high they would drive most apprentices to despair?"

In the vast office, the humming of all the instruments seemed to be sucked away in that instant.

The air solidified into a block of hard crystal, sealing Allen within it.

This was a threshold more direct and more brutal than any duel of Witchcraft.

Talent, ideology, wisdom... they were all pitifully fragile in the face of cold, hard numbers of Magic Stones.

In the Black Tower of the Forge, in the school of Macro-Construction Domination, without resources, you couldn’t move a single inch.

In Allen’s mind, DSeek conducted a financial analysis:

[Current Assets: 6,050 Low-Level Magic Stones.]

[Known Necessary Expenditures: Meditation Method 1,500, first year’s tuition 2,000, basic Alchemy Laboratory setup 2,000. Total: 5,500 Low-Level Magic Stones.]

[Remaining Assets: 550 Low-Level Magic Stones. Average Monthly Income: 900 Magic Stones.]

[Risk Assessment: The monthly budget will be tight, barely covering the regular research and living expenses of an Advanced Apprentice. Financial Risk Rating: Medium.]

[Recommendation: Activate the mid-term investment agreement with the ’Plane Exploration and Development Association’ to cover additional expenditures.]

[Conclusion: Financial issues are manageable. The current core mission is to demonstrate personal value and solidify the relationship with your master, thereby triggering the investment agreement.]

The entire analysis took less than a second.

Allen looked up, meeting Mercer Iron Star’s gaze, which was so intense it felt like it could crush a person.

His expression showed no hint of hesitation or difficulty; he was as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

"Master Mercer, I understand your meaning."

"Resources are the fuel for the Macro-Construction Domination school, not an obstacle to be overcome," he said. "If an apprentice is bogged down by resource issues from the very start, then they simply aren’t qualified to be a Wizard of this school, because ’resource management’ itself is one of its most fundamental aspects."

He didn’t directly answer whether he had the money, instead elevating the question to the level of the school’s ideology.

It was both an answer and a declaration.

"As for whether I am prepared,"

Allen’s tone remained steady. "I didn’t come here to ’consider’ these problems, but to ’solve’ them. Please inform me of the payment procedure."

Mercer stared at the young man before him for several long seconds.

No emotion could be read on his stern face. However, the mechanical arm that had been resting on the control console slowly retracted.

"It seems your financial situation is better than I anticipated."

The oppressive weight in Mercer’s voice lessened slightly. "In that case, answer one last question for me."

Mercer’s voice dropped low. "With your talent, if you had chosen any of the mainstream Witchcraft Schools, you might have touched the limits of mortals within a century, possessing power comparable to a god’s, and at a far lower cost. Tell me, Allen Wesren, why choose the most expensive, most tedious path with the least short-term reward?"

"A god?"

Allen repeated the word, as if savoring an ancient and outdated concept.

He shook his head gently. His deep blue eyes reflected the countless glittering points of light from the workshop’s instruments, the fragmented gleams converging deep within his pupils to form a profound and orderly sea of stars.

"I have no desire to become a god."

He raised his eyes to look directly at Mercer and declared, word by word, with perfect clarity:

"I’m going to mass-produce gods in my workshop."

The humming of all the instruments seemed to vanish at that moment, leaving only Allen’s words to echo in the vast space.

"HAHAHAHA! Excellent! Good lad! I like that answer!"

A low laugh first rumbled from Mercer’s metal chest, carrying the dull, grinding sound of meshing gears. It grew louder and louder, finally erupting into a booming laugh that shook the entire room.

For the first time, a clear smile appeared on his face, which was so stern it looked as if it were carved from granite, though it still seemed a bit stiff.

He closed his eyes and paused for a moment, as if communicating with some distant entity.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes. The scrutiny was completely gone, replaced by the kind of acknowledgment one gives to a kindred spirit.

"I have approved your apprentice application. Starting today, you may study under me during your time as an Advanced Apprentice."

"The finance office is on the first floor of the Black Tower of the Forge. Give them my name; they’ll know what to do."

Mercer’s tone softened a little. "Go to the supply depot, pick up your things, and get settled. Be here to see me at eight o’clock tomorrow morning."

He paused, then added, "I will teach you the exclusive Meditation Method of our specialization."

"Understood, Master."

Allen stood up. Without another word, he simply gave a slight, standard apprentice’s bow.

He turned and walked toward the heavy metal door.

Behind him, Mercer’s voice rang out again.

"Lad, the path of an Alchemy Wizard is paved with mountains of Magic Stones and knowledge. Walk it steadily."