Awake, Who the Hell are You?

- ORIS, DUNGEONS -

The wooden spoon twirled wantonly before slipping through Darrel's fingers and bouncing on the hard floor.

"So close, but I can tell you are getting better."

"I am aren't I?"

Luca nodded with a cloying grin as Darrel reached down to pick the spoon up eager to try again.

A few days had passed by since his last event in the dungeons, and rumors had spread of how he had gone berserk and thrown the prison guards around like rag dolls.

Darrel had noted the newfound caution the prison guards had regained of him, and deep down he felt much better since their fear of him had nearly dwindled after the Holy Knights had called his bluff during his interrogation.

"You got it?"

Luca asked Darrel after noting the delay.

'Why? Why was I learning how to twirl a spoon when I had tons of magic spells to get started on?'

Luca had already explained the answer to that question, the first method of learning magic in Morland was to study the spells that were intricately written in grimoires. If this was unavailable, another method was to learn the spells directly from another magic user.

Unfortunately, Darrel's inability to read the local language made it nearly impossible for him to learn from grimoires, and the chances of him meeting another magic user in Oris were zero at most, so Luca had decided that it was best that Darrel learned to fight with a weapon than not know how to fight at all.

"Yeah, I got it." Darrel picked up the spoon and placed it between his index and middle fingers.

"Yes, right... here."

Luca approached and then shifted the spoon closer to the center of Darrel's fingers, then he raised an erect thumb to him as a sign to go ahead.

At first, Darrel thought if he got stronger and leveled up then the magic spells he needed to learn would appear in his mind, and he would immediately be able to use them just as it happened in the games he used to play.

Unfortunately, that was not how it worked in Morland, it seems that skills and spells could not be acquired by leveling up.

Darrel recalled the words that Greyan had said to him as they were coming back from their first dungeon mining.

'I don't know how you did things back where you came from, but here in Morland everyone works their tail-sides raw to earn their places, especially those already at the bottom.'

His initial impression of Greyan was that he was only leading their party for the sake of gaining favor from the higher-ups, but after seeing how hard he had fought and defended them during their encounter with the Greater Web-Crawler, Darrel realized that Greyan was not entirely invested in himself as he always portrayed.

Darrel collected his thoughts and resumed his focus on the spoon that was spinning between his fingers, faster and faster it twirled with his thumb flicking it every few seconds.

"That's it, you got it," Luca exclaimed gleefully.

"Yes!"

- ORIS DUNGEONS, 9TH DUNGEON -

"Get up you maggots!"

The following day the guards banged the bars of each prison cell as they made their morning call rounds. Ever since he came to Morland, Darrel had noticed that the nights were going by quickly, he could not remember one day that he slept in till dawn.

Today they would begin clearing the ninth chamber which was located in the lower Oris dungeons.

Their dungeon clearing progress had been quick lately, regardless of his earlier heroic feat, Darrel had found it hard to contribute to the party. In a sense he felt like he was holding everyone back, Luca and Orimik had yet to say a word, but Greyan had showered Darrel with countless threats to his mental wellbeing as well as his life, however, during battles he would still cover Darrel's mistakes.

For a time the weight of expectations had befallen Darrel, the party seemed eager to see him show off his rare skill once more.

'Are you really a magic user? Or is that what people think you are?'

When he was asked this question, Darrel tried to recall when he had ever voluntarily used a magic spell but he had no such memory. Even his rebellious feats had been physical and despite his earlier declaration, he truly had no knowledge of any magic spells.

In his former world there had been various characters that could fight with weapons, and when ready they could unleash magic-based attacks.

"Doesn't mean they were magic users..." Darrel muttered as he looked at the short blade he had strapped to his belt.

'Everyone knew how to swing a blade.'

This was what Dark-Luca had said to Darrel when he had pestered him to teach him how to fight, learning to be one with one's weapon was what Darrel needed to do, otherwise, he would be unable to learn any skills.

"You all heard what the guards said, today we start clearing the new dungeon." Greyan started. "So expect the enemies to be tougher than everything we have been facing prior."

Greyan had made it a sort of ritual, darting out advice before we started clearing a dungeon.

"I doubt that." Luca commented snarkily.

"Don't be cocky."

"I think I am starting to understand how the Greyhearts had managed to make it to the hundred and eighth dungeon."

"The Greyhearts were a band of elite adventurers." Orimik stated.

"That's one reason why they managed to escape," Luca added. "Even though the guards here are at times lax, they are quite experienced and the equipment they have isn't half bad."

Darrel had little interest in former figures of renown, however, this talk of escape had him recalling their escape plan.

'Wait... Does Luca still recall our escape plan? Well not that there is a plan... yet.'

The talk escape reminded Darrel of the event with the cursed pickaxe that the guards had planted on him.

Walsen was the prisoner that Darrel had talked to briefly during his mistaken dungeon mining, but he had not seen him in the prison since.

'Nor had he approached me again, perhaps he knows that I suspected him.'

Darrel pondered as muffled grunts could be heard in the background.

"Right Darrel?"

"Huh? Wait what?"

Lost in thought, Darrel could barely keep up with the conversation that had escalated further from its initial topic.

"See the spell-less fool is scared witless." Greyan scorned Darrel as usual. "Let's see if all that spoon-spinning nonsense will save your slow arse this time."

Darrel gripped the blade strapped on his waist as his fingers coiled around its hilt tightly, he was eager to find out how much his hard work would pay off. Greyan noticed Darrel's earnest expression and simply shrugged when he looked at him.

Beneath that smug look of his, Darrel knew that Greyan too was as anxious as he was.

As the Ingress to the ninth dungeon began to open, Darrel was slowly starting to understand who he was in this world, he was no mere Spell-less Wizard nor was he as harmless as others had assumed of him.