Reroll: I Brought Sarcasm To A Sword Fight

"Are you better now?" my mother asked gently, her voice full of quiet concern.

I gave a small nod.

"I'm better now... and I promised Father. I'll take good care of you and the baby."

Her smile warmed the air between us.

"Always be this honest with your feelings, my little one."

The moment she said that, guilt clawed at my chest. I had just lied to her, and I felt like a scumbag.

While wiping away the tears that dared escape "You were going to tell me about my uncle Philip," I reminded her.

Rather than talking on our feet, we moved to the sitting room, her favorite spot for sipping herbal tea and unwinding.

It wasn't a large room, but not cramped either. Two high backed chairs faced each other near a wide window, flanked by modest bookshelves on either side. The wooden floor creaked faintly beneath our steps, polished but worn in places, the kind of wear only time and comfort could cause.

"Philip and I were very close when we were little," she said with a fond smile.

"Actually, Philip reminded me a lot of you. Not in looks, but in that sharp little mind of his. He was also a bit too clever for his own good, just like someone I know."

She gave me a quick sideways glance, eyes twinkling knowingly.

She paused, her gaze turning inward.

"At least... that was before he joined Stonehalls."

Mnex, what's Stonehalls?

"No information found. Try asking the actual human sitting next to you."

Right, right.

I looked up at her again. "Mom, what's the Stonehalls?"

Her smile deepened.

"It's the most magnificent place you'll ever see. A university the size of a kingdom, and one that doesn't answer to any king."

"Philip is one of the professors at Stonehalls," she said, pride gently threading her voice.

"The institute offers the finest education in magic, healing, and engineering."

"So my uncle's a professor? That's seriously cool," I said, wide eyed.

I could already picture it, long coat, floating tomes, deadly serious expression.

If this world had anime, he'd 100% be the mysterious mentor who shows up at episode seven and casually drops world-shattering knowledge.

She smiled again, and just then, the soft chime of the doorbell rang.

A graceful woman with pure white hair entered the room, her steps barely making a sound.

I recognized her from Mnex's intel dump, Agatha, the senior maid. Always calm, always polished. Like some kind of tea serving assassin. She was there when I was born. I thought she was a midwife.

She approached quietly, balancing a tray that held a steaming cup of herbal tea... and a glass of warm milk just for me.

"However," my mother went on, "when you work at a place that grand, it swallows most of your time.

Philip ends up working even more than your father. He teaches classes, manages university affairs, and oversees the administration of the entire city that grew around Stonehalls."

She paused briefly, eyes drifting toward the window.

"We still write to each other… but I haven't seen him in years."

I felt tired just hearing all that.

Stonehalls: Where sleep goes to die.

Mnex chimed in, voice full of smug wisdom: "Remember, in this era, the harder you work, the better you're seen."

Seriously? That sounds exactly like my old boss from my previous life. The guy who thought overtime was a personality trait.

"Back then, you worked for him. Now, whatever you do, you'll be doing it for yourself."

Tch. Score one for you again.

Ding ding ding ... should I announce you've won half a million for three correct answers in a row?

"At first, everything was fine. He went there as a student," my mother said softly, her gaze wandering to memories long past.

"He always had a gift for magic. But after he began working at Stonehalls, we weren't as close.

Then I met your father… and we got married. That's why you've never seen your uncle."

No visits. Just a title, Uncle.

"Do you think he'll come?" I asked.

She let out a hearty laugh, but not before a moment's pause.

Her hand drifted to her lap, fingers brushing the fabric as if grounding herself.

"No matter how busy he is, if his sister's in danger..."

She didn't finish the sentence. For a second, it felt like she wasn't thinking about Philip, but me.

Her smile faltered. She looked away.

She didn't want to scare me. Even now, she was shielding me from what she truly feared.

I didn't need Mnex's analysis to know what she was thinking. I lied her about the beggar while sobbing.

"Don't worry, Mom. Even if Uncle can't come..."

I hesitated. What I was about to say sounded ridiculous, even to me.

But I'd promised myself I'd be honest. So I said it anyway:

"I'll find a way to cleanse the land of its poison and stop this disaster."

She covered her mouth and burst into laughter.

For a second, I thought she might take me seriously.

Yeah... believing a three year old isn't easy.

"How do you plan to do it?" Mnex asked, his tone stripped of sarcasm, tinged with rare seriousness.

Unlike my mother, he wasn't laughing. And unlike himself, he wasn't teasing either.

I'll probably regret saying this... but you don't need to be serious with me.

If sarcasm makes it easier, stick with it.

Because the answer to your question... is you.

You were always the plan since day one.

"I didn't realize humiliation was your kink," he said, his usual smug tone finally resurfacing.

"Still, I'll do my best. Not for your sake but so the multiverse never whispers that I failed."

That sounded more like a vow than a joke.

My mother didn't press the issue. She simply smiled, and we both went back to our drinks, a mother with her tea, a child with his warm milk.

When we both finished, I slipped off my chair and quietly left the room.

Mnex, can we draft a blueprint for the sewage project?

"Sounds like you already have an idea brewing. But yes, if I put you into a sleep state and take over your body, I can draw it out efficiently. Should take around eight to ten days."

Eight to ten days?! In anime, this stuff wraps up in a single training montage... Yeah, yeah, I know. This is real life. Or real enough.

Great. So much for my dramatic one-night genius plan.

I'll have Gareth handle the materials.

"Once everything's ready, I'll work on it during the night."

And so, I set off ... wandering the halls of the mansion in search of Gareth... and maybe Robin too.

First destination the kitchen.

Then I've got another idea. What do you say, should we look for Raymond Bret Babbit now?

"Good thinking. But we'll have to head to the other building. That's where the managers work. It's also where your father holds his meetings."

I didn't reply. Just turned and started walking.

Robin could wait. Right now, chasing coin seemed more urgent.

After what felt like an entire pilgrimage, I reached the city's administrative building, the heart of the estate's operations.

The floors buzzed with hurried footsteps and the scent of ink and old parchment clung to the air.

Inside was pure chaos: people darting around, arms full of folders, voices rising and overlapping.

How am I supposed to find Raymond in this zoo?

"Just keep walking. If I spot him, I'll let you know. Check each room, one by one."

So I did.

First room… nope.

Second… nope.

Third… still nope.

This is already more cardio than I signed up for.

The entire first floor came up empty.

With a sigh, I dragged myself upstairs. Still no Raymond.

Maybe he's off today?

"Naturally. He's probably on his paid vacation, enjoying his annual bonus. Maybe celebrating New Year's. Or Christmas. Or Easter. Wait… did I forget Thanksgiving?"

You're joking.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

So… no one takes days off here?

"Did you get any in your previous life?"

Touché.

"Go around back. I've got a feeling he's there."

What's in the back?

"If I'm right, dice. Men. Gambling. Classic."

And yep, there they were. Four guys crouched in a circle, eyes glued to the dirt, dice clattering between them.

"See the tall one with black hair and nervous fingers? That's our guy, Raymond. Stay and watch first."

Okay… watching now.

I stayed just close enough to see without drawing attention.

Raymond looked like a man on the verge of tears. His last silver coin rested in his palm like a dying hope.

One more loss and he'd probably sell his boots if they weren't already borrowed.

Mnex suddenly chimed in:

"Dice is chipped on side two. Odds for rolling a five just jumped by 23%."

"Tell him. Next roll's a five."

Are you sure about this?

"Completely. Now move."

As Raymond exhaled and extended his hand, I rushed forward and grabbed his wrist with my tiny fingers.

"What the…?!" His eyes went wide not in confusion, but fear. He recognized me. Everyone here did.

The other men tensed but didn't move. One of them muttered something under his breath and looked away.

I leaned in close and whispered, "Say five if you want to win."

"What?"

"Say it. Five. Now."

"...Five! FIVE!" he shouted, letting the coin fall.

The other man rolled. The die bounced, spun and landed.

Five dots.

Raymond and I blinked, looked at each other and then, like a couple of lunatics, clasped hands and started spinning in giddy circles.

This was way too much joy for a dirt gambling ring.

Mnex's voice broke the absurd moment:

"Great. You've evolved into a Teletubby."