Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons

In an empty space, a man suddenly appeared—blinking into existence as if from nothing. Upon teleporting, he immediately scanned his surroundings with cautious curiosity.

But instead of feeling relieved by the apparent emptiness, the man only grew more alert. He examined the area carefully: a chamber with walls and floors entirely made of dull, metallic-colored metal.

Driven by curiosity, he tapped his fingers against the surface. A sharp, cold clang echoed through the chamber, sending a chill down his spine for reasons he couldn't explain.

Choosing to stay silent, he remained on guard, bracing for an attack that might come at any moment. Yet, after a long wait, no attack came. Gradually, both his body and mind began to relax.

That man was none other than Clayton. He was still reeling from what he'd just witnessed—an extraordinary feat performed by the mysterious figure from earlier.

He couldn't help but wonder: Would I be brave enough to do the same, if given the power and the chance?

Just as he was about to rest and reflect, a sharp metallic clang shattered the silence.

Clang!

Clayton flinched instinctively. But after a brief pause, no further movement followed. Confused, he wondered if this trial was different from the others.

As questions buzzed through his mind, a faint yet distinct voice echoed in his ears. Though soft like a whisper, the words were heavy with meaning:

"The body is one, and the soul is also one. One plus one is not two, but zero. Zero is not emptiness—it is certainty."

"The body is one. The soul is one. Yet they oppose. They cancel, yet also empower."

"Zero is not nothing. Zero is harmony. Imaginary, but essential. Without it, there is no wholeness."

Clayton was bewildered. The message was cryptic and difficult to grasp. Yet deep down, he sensed it was connected to the trial ahead.

One part echoed in his mind:

"After everything... when was the last time I felt whole?"

He tried to steady his thoughts, searching for meaning within the message. But after a while, he still couldn't find a clear answer.

With a sigh, he muttered, "Looks like this trial won't be so simple."

Just as he lowered his guard for a moment, a low hum rumbled through the air.

Hum!

Startled, Clayton's eyes flew open. He shifted position just in time to dodge something he hadn't even seen.

A massive metallic fist slammed into the floor where he'd been standing seconds earlier.

BOOM!

The impact shook the entire chamber, echoing like a thunderclap through the steel walls.

"Ughh…"

Clayton grimaced. Even though the blow hadn't connected, he felt the shock in his bones—as if its sheer force had rippled through his body.

Eyes sharp with caution, he turned toward the source—and saw it.

A towering humanoid figure stood before him, entirely forged from gleaming steel. Over three meters tall, its metallic muscles bulged, and its presence radiated menace.

Clayton froze in disbelief. But before he could fully register the threat, the creature moved again.

Hum!

That eerie sound returned, vibrating in his skull. Teeth clenched, Clayton dodged again.

BOOM!

Another earth-shaking punch struck the floor. The golem's attacks were predictable, yet devastating.

Clayton began to notice the rhythm in its movements, allowing him to dodge more efficiently. But just as he started adapting—

—the golem vanished.

Panic surged. Clayton spun around, eyes darting in every direction. No sign of the creature.

Then—

Clang!

Hum!

He understood instantly and leapt away.

BOOM!

Another punch struck where he had just stood.

It confirmed the golem's strategy.

Now he recognized the opponent: a Tungsten Golem—a metallic humanoid with explosive strength and immense durability, but slow and lacking intelligence.

What made it dangerous, however, was its ability to vanish briefly, becoming undetectable.

Despite its seemingly simple form, that simplicity was what made Clayton wary. He knew too well—what appears harmless often hides the greatest danger.

He scoured the room for any other threats, trying every tactic he could think of—splashing water, spreading vapor—but found nothing else. The space was truly empty.

That's when it hit him.

The real challenge wasn't the golem. It was hidden in the cryptic message he'd heard earlier.

Now that he'd memorized the golem's attack patterns, panic gave way to strategy. Calmly, he summoned his familiars: Dingo, Gemma, and a squad of skeletal soldiers.

His plan was simple: let the familiars distract the golem while he focused on deciphering the philosophical riddle.

He instructed them not only to dodge, but to counterattack when possible. At first, the strategy worked.

But soon, the sounds of battle began to wear on his mind. Clashing metal, crashing impacts, and that maddening hum overwhelmed his senses.

His head throbbed. His teeth ached. His muscles tensed involuntarily.

He stopped what he was doing and watched the fight more carefully—and then he noticed it.

Every time his familiars struck the golem, the resulting metallic screech wasn't just noise—it physically disturbed him, vibrating through his entire body.

Even his familiars looked shaken. So, he issued a new command:

"Pride, Dingo, Gemma—hold your ground. Don't attack."

They obeyed. The room quieted. Slowly, his mind began to clear.

But even then, the golem's movements alone generated that same agonizing hum.

Clayton frowned. Something's not right.

He began reflecting on the earlier trials:

In the first trial, he'd fought a monster to find the exit—but the monster was merely a distraction. The real goal was to locate the way out.

In the second trial, he faced his shadow. Victory came not through defeating it, but by walking away.

With a jolt of clarity, Clayton realized the truth—he had been approaching each trial incorrectly. His focus had always been on the external threats, never on the deeper meaning of the challenge.

Now, this third trial had begun with abstract, cryptic words—philosophical in nature.

Despite their differences, all three trials shared a common thread: deception through appearances. They were designed to test his ability to look beyond the surface.

But that can be reversed now—he doesn't need to understand the riddle, just destroy the golem. Then the test will be over.

Clayton stared at the golem, eyes burning with determination.

"Looks like I finally understand how to finish this—quickly and efficiently."