Wizard: Building a Golem Legion From Zero-Chapter 36 - 35: Forum Storm
Leo’s post was like a depth charge dropped into a vat of boiling oil, instantly setting off an explosion across the entire freshman forum.
At first, most people’s reaction was disbelief.
"[Fake News Debunked] Someone’s just making up stories for attention again. Nothing to see here, people. Passing all his courses in ten months? Maybe try using your brain before you post garbage like this?"
"Agreed. I practically live in the library, and I’ve never heard of this guy. Finish fourteen courses through self-study? Only if he moved his bed into the restricted section."
"LMAO, Professor Lecia is proctoring it personally? That old hag can’t even be bothered to attend the graduation ceremony, and you think she’d make an exception for a freshman? Dude who posted this, did you get Spiritual Power backlash and start hallucinating?"
Replies filled with doubt and ridicule quickly flooded the page.
This was perfectly normal. The freshmen were already suffocating under their heavy coursework. When a so-called "genius" suddenly appeared claiming he could reach the heavens in a single bound, their first reaction was naturally rejection and denial. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚
To admit that someone else could accomplish in ten months what they might not finish in three years was tantamount to admitting they were a complete and utter mediocrity.
However, when someone claimed to have seen Professor Lecia near the Academic Affairs Office with their own eyes, the tide of the forum began to subtly shift.
"[Live Sighting] I swear! I was right there in the Administration Center plaza! That cold aura... I could feel it even through the window! It was definitely Professor Lecia! She went in and came out less than ten minutes later, and her expression was even uglier than usual! I bet that freshman got chewed out!"
This reply was like a red-hot iron, searing itself onto everyone’s hearts.
Lecia Ellis, the personification of rules, the nightmare of freshmen—she had actually shown up for this.
Immediately after, the second and third pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
"My friend does odd jobs at the Academic Affairs Office. He said the atmosphere inside was so tense you could freeze to death. A freshman named Allen applied for the joint exam for all fourteen courses. The clerk was about to kick him out, but Professor Lecia directly authorized it."
"Not just authorized! I heard from my mentor’s teaching assistant that Professor Lecia demanded a separate exam room for him—Isolation and Interrogation Room No. 3! And she’s going to proctor it herself!"
"Isolation and Interrogation Room No. 3? Isn’t that where they question suspected Black Wizards? The Detection Array in there can scan what you had for dinner last night! What is going on?"
If the previous news was merely shocking, then the phrases "Isolation and Interrogation Room No. 3" and "Lecia proctoring personally" elevated the nature of the event to an unbelievable level.
This was no longer the personal affair of a single apprentice. It had evolved into a public execution under the watchful eyes of the academy’s top brass, or... a coronation of unprecedented scale.
Just then, an account with a "Grade-Level TA" tag posted a short reply. It was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.
"Stop arguing. It’s real. The professor for *Logic and Magic Models* just told me to prepare a separate, maximum-difficulty backup exam paper, specifically for Allen Wesren."
The entry of an authoritative figure threw the entire freshman forum into a complete frenzy.
The voices of ridicule and doubt vanished.
In their place was a complex mix of awe, jealousy, fervor, and despair.
Posts discussing difficult courses, complaining about insufficient Spiritual Power, or sharing gossip were instantly drowned out.
The only titles scrolling across the screen were those related to "Allen Wesren."
"[Tracking a Miracle] Allen Wesren, the god of our class?"
"[In-Depth Analysis] Discussing the possibility of finishing a three-year curriculum in ten months. Don’t talk to me about talent, I don’t buy it!"
"[Bounty] 100 Magic Stones! Seeking to buy all of Allen Wesren’s study notes! Copies are fine too!"
"[Confession Booth] I was wrong. I take back what I said about him being an idiot. Big boss, please accept my knees!"
Amidst this chaotic flood, dozens of new posts began to appear. Their content was largely the same, all carrying a tone of worship bordering on fanaticism.
"What do you people even know! I’m not surprised at all that Senior Allen could do it!"
The poster was Oliver Page, who excitedly wrote:
"I was stuck on my Wizard’s Hand for three weeks, drained my Spiritual Power a dozen times, and was on the verge of giving up! Senior Allen took one look and pointed out my problem in a single sentence! One sentence! I successfully cast it right on the spot!"
Meanwhile, Marcus Bell’s post was even more direct:
"Senior Allen is the personification of the perfect answer! Forget ten months, I think he could do it in one! You guys are still struggling with how to pass the exams, while he’s thinking about how to crush them in the most efficient way possible! We’re not even on the same level!"
These posts from members of the "Learning Mutual Aid Group" provided the most solid evidence for this incredible affair.
They were the ones who had experienced it firsthand, the ones who had benefited. Their testimonies were far more convincing than any rumor.
In an instant, the once-obscure name "Learning Mutual Aid Group" became the hottest topic on the forums.
"What mutual aid group? How come I’ve never heard of it?"
"Oliver! We’re best buds, how could you not tell me! Hook me up with an invite!"
"A monthly fee of fifteen Magic Stones? That’s so expensive? Wait... if it buys me efficiency like Senior Allen’s, forget fifteen, I’d pay fifty!"
Allen was oblivious to the forum’s frenzy, nor did he care.
But some people were watching all of this very closely.
Alchemy Workshop No. 17.
The acrid smell of potions and the hum of the Magic Furnace Core filled the entire laboratory.
Draven was focused, carefully using a long, thin glass rod to stir a turbid, bubbling liquid in a crucible.
The table beside him was covered with records of failed experiments and data charts—all part of the verification process for the "optimization suggestions" Allen had provided.
A young apprentice, Draven’s assistant, practically burst through the laboratory door, clutching a crystal terminal in his hand.
"Senior Draven!"
The assistant’s voice was distorted with excitement. "Something’s happened! No, it’s that Allen Wesren... Something huge has happened with him!"
Draven didn’t stop what he was doing. He steadily dripped the last drop of catalyst into the crucible, and the turbid liquid instantly transformed into a clear blue.
He observed it carefully for a full thirty seconds, and only after confirming the reaction was stable did he use a pair of tongs to pick up the crucible and place it in the Cooling Array.
"What’s the panic?"
Without turning around, he wiped his hands. "Even if the sky were falling, it would have to wait for this bottle of Shaping Gel to cool. Did Kael cause trouble again, or did the mission office short us on materials?"
"Neither!"
The assistant shoved the crystal terminal in front of him. The screen showed the freshman forum, which was in an uproar. "Senior, see for yourself! Allen... he applied for the joint exam for all fourteen public courses!"
Draven took the terminal, his gaze sweeping over the screen.
At first, his expression was one of mild indifference, but when he saw "Lecia proctoring personally," "Isolation and Interrogation Room No. 3," and the fanatical posts from the mutual aid group members, he started to take it seriously.
He scrolled through page after page, his finger moving slower and slower, his expression growing more and more solemn.
The assistant whispered from the side:
"Everyone’s gone crazy. They think Allen is a once-in-a-century genius... or a complete and utter madman. Senior, what does this mean for us...?"
"A genius? A madman?" Draven murmured to himself. He suddenly let out a small laugh, one that held a hint of self-mockery and sudden realization.
"Neither... He’s a businessman. A much more brilliant businessman than I am."
"He isn’t taking an exam. He’s setting the price for his ’product’."
Draven’s breathing quickened. "I don’t know if he’ll pass the exam, but a ’product’ that can enable an ordinary apprentice to finish a three-year curriculum in ten months—what do you think that’s worth? A hundred Magic Stones? A thousand? Or even more?"
The assistant’s mouth fell open, unable to utter a single word.
"Then... then what do we do now?" The assistant’s heart pounded.
"’What do we do?’ A sharp glint flashed in Draven’s eyes. ’Immediately. Lock down all financial details of our cooperation with Allen. No one is to reveal our profit-sharing agreement. Also, go recruit three more apprentices. We need to increase production capacity at once.’"
"Also, go to my warehouse, pack up that latest batch of Node Fluorescent Liquid and three boxes of Deep Meditation Incense, and deliver them to his dorm in Zone A-7."
While the entire apprentice district was in an uproar over this storm, its epicenter was exceptionally calm.
Inside Allen’s dorm, there was none of the noise from the outside world.
He had just finished his final review of the core knowledge points for the five courses on tomorrow’s exam.
*The Nature of Magic Power and Macro-Theory*, *Basic Runes and Linguistics*, *Logic and Magic Models*, *History of Magic*, and *Introduction to Planar Studies*.
These five courses formed the cornerstone of the Wizard Worldview.
Just then, a light knock sounded at the door.
KNOCK, KNOCK.
Allen went and opened the door. There was no one outside.
Under the light of the hallway, a box carefully wrapped in Alchemy Oil Cloth sat silently on the stone tiles by the door.
On top of the box was a hard, black card, upon which a line of elegant text was written in silver ink:
"Wishing you success on your exam."
The signature was "Draven’s Workshop No. 17."
Allen picked up the box, feeling the faint fluctuation of Magic Power from within.
He didn’t open it right away, merely testing its weight. Then his gaze went past the box, looking toward the end of the hallway, as if it could pierce through the walls to the distant administrative spire standing silent in the night.
