Chapter 6: Setting Out into the Fray

As the sun begins to disappear, the raiders move with practiced precision. Askeladd, the enigmatic leader, his eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and mischief, issues orders to his loyal followers. The atmosphere is charged, a palpable energy coursing through the group as they brace for the chaos to come.

With a sudden shout, the raid begins. The villagers awaken to the thundering of hooves and the clash of steel against steel. Chaos erupts as Askeladd's group descends upon the village like a tempest. Buildings are set ablaze, the flames licking at the sky like the wrath of the gods. The village once filled with life is now a battleground, a scene of turmoil and destruction.

Askeladd himself leads the charge, his sword dancing in the air as he effortlessly dispatches anyone who dares to stand against him. His laughter rings out, a chilling symphony that blends with the cries of anguish and the clash of weapons. Amidst the chaos, the raiders plunder, seizing whatever treasures catch their eye.

Askeladd's laughter echoed across the chaos as his blade danced through the fray. He clashed swords with a villager, a fierce grin on his lips.

"You know," he panted, his voice dripping with mockery, "I always did love a good morning workout."

The villager, a mix of anger and fear in his eyes, gritted his teeth. "You'll pay for this, you monster!"

As the clash continued, Bjorn, one of Askeladd's loyal companions, joined the fray. His massive frame dwarfed the villagers around him.

"Hey, Askeladd," Bjorn boomed, his voice carrying over the chaos, "how 'bout we make a game outta this? Who can bring down the most villagers?"

Askeladd's lips curled into a grin. "You're on, big man."

In the midst of the tumultuous scene, Marcella fought desperately to break free from the chaos, her mind consumed by the singular goal of escaping the nightmare. In that desperate flight, her path crossed with an unexpected figure—a man with a shock of blond hair and piercing blue eyes. It was none other than Askellad, a figure whose reputation preceded him like a thunderclap.

As Marcella's eyes locked onto his, a shiver ran down her spine. The intensity of his gaze held a weight she couldn't quite comprehend, a blend of power and enigma that left her breathless. Little did she know, her fate now rested in the hands of this formidable man.

With a sense of inevitability, Askellad recognized her as a villager caught in the crossfire of their raid. His gaze flickered over her, assessing her with a cool detachment that hinted at the complexities beneath his calm exterior. His followers began to move toward her, a threat of impending doom in their eyes.

However, before the situation could unfold, Marcella's desperation found its voice. Her pleas echoed through the air, a symphony of terror and desperation that reverberated in the space between them. Her voice cracked as she begged for her life, her words a desperate plea to escape the clutches of certain death.

"Please!" Marcella's voice trembled, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'll do anything, I'll serve you all, just spare my life!"

As the words spilled from her lips, Askellad's face contorted with a mixture of distaste and incredulity. The sight before him was a portrait of desperation, a woman willing to trade her self for a shot at survival. His gaze bore into her, a blend of disappointment and disdain simmering beneath the surface.

As this tense encounter unfolded, Levi stood at a distance, a silent observer of the chaotic tableau before him. The reality of his situation was as surreal as the world he found himself in—the very world of Vinland Saga he had only known from tales and pages. As he watched Askellad and Marcella, he felt a strange mix of disbelief and resignation settle within him. This was the world he was in now, a reality he couldn't escape.

The truth, though not entirely unexpected, bore a weight he couldn't ignore. Clues and hints had pointed towards this revelation, yet accepting it remained a challenge. He had suspected this outcome, a world intertwined with the stories he'd read, but the confirmation still held a sense of unreality. The world of Vinland Saga wasn't just a tale anymore; it was his new reality.

Amidst the chaos, his gaze fixated on Marcella, the woman who had been both his mother and a stranger in this world. Her desperate pleas for mercy, her willingness to trade her self for her life, sent a pang of disappointment through him. Levi knew the stories of this age, the valor and honor that defined women even in times of adversity. And yet, Marcella's actions shattered that perception.

As the unfolding encounter held Levi's attention, Marcella's gaze stumbled upon a figure that brought a mixture of surprise and relief— a 6-year-old boy concealed behind a mask. It was Levi, unmistakably so, and recognition dawned on her through the way he was dressed. The clothes he wore were a stark reminder of her deliberate choice, to clothe him in the most tattered garments she could find.

In that poignant moment, hope flickered to life within her. A glimmer of optimism sparked in the midst of chaos, and she seized the opportunity to call out to him, her voice carrying a blend of urgency. "Levii, Levii, come here right now," she implored, her words a desperate plea.

Levi's name tore through the chaos in Marcella's urgent cry, a piercing realization that she had identified him amidst the turmoil. Swearing under his breath, frustration tangled with astonishment. "Fuckkk, how did that bitch know it was me?" Levi's mind raced, grappling with the shock of being spotted when he had thought he was an anonymous observer.

The reality slammed into him like a tidal wave – escape was no longer an option, not with Askellad's eyes now on him. Resigned to his fate, he made his way towards Marcella, each step weighted with the acceptance that there was nowhere to run, no sanctuary from the raiders' grasp. Askellad and his men were a force to reckon with, leaving him with one choice – to face the situation head-on.

As he closed the distance between them, his heart pounded like a war drum, the rhythm echoing his trepidation. The uncertainty of the moment was palpable, the knowledge that his life hung in the balance, that this encounter might well be his last. The threat of death loomed as real as the chaos surrounding them – a brutal truth he couldn't escape.

He couldn't deny the possibility; the raiders, merciless and driven by their own objectives, might extinguish his life without a second thought. As Levi approached Marcella, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within him – fear, anger, and an ember of hope that flickered against the odds.

As Levi drew nearer, Marcella's voice cut through the air, her words a chilling revelation that struck him like a blow. "This is my son, Levi," she declared, her tone carrying an eerie blend of desperation and calculated surrender. The implications of her words hung heavy, a sickening proposition that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Her offer hung in the air, a twisted bargain born out of desperation. "If you let me live, I'll let you do whatever you want to him," she continued, her voice a haunting whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

Levi's disbelief mingled with a surge of rage. The audacity of her words was beyond comprehension, a mother offering up her own flesh and blood for her own salvation. He wanted to scream at her, to unleash his fury, but the gravity of the situation shackled his response. In that moment, he yearned to end her life, to avenge the years of suffering he had endured under her care.

Yet, the circumstances were cruel masters, and the odds were stacked against him. His attention shifted to Askellad, a figure whose influence and command demanded attention. Askellad's gaze bore into Levi with a mixture of curiosity and authority, his command slicing through the tension like a blade. "Take off the mask," his words resonated with an unwavering directive. Yet, Levi's response was anything but compliant.

A spark of defiance glinted in Levi's eyes, a testament to his refusal to be subjugated even in the face of overwhelming odds. With a stubborn resolve, he chose to remain steadfast.

Observing Levi's resolute refusal, a ripple of impatience surged through Askellad's ranks. One of his men, his patience worn thin, took it upon himself to enforce the command, a glint of malice in his eyes. Swiftly closing the distance, his blade sliced the air with deadly intent. Levi's instincts flared to life, his fingers wrapping around the dagger's hilt with a white-knuckled grip. With a fluid motion, he thrust the blade defensively, a desperate bid for survival.

The clash reverberated through the chaos, a symphony of metal against metal. Levi's heart raced as the force of the blow met the resistance of his makeshift weapon. His muscles strained against the impending threat, a dance of danger and determination. Against all odds, he managed to parry the attack, a surge of triumph coursing through him.

The assailant's face twisted with a volatile mix of shock and fury. "You dare evade my attack, just die, kid!" his voice thundered, a threat punctuated by a roar of frustration. Askellad, curious to see how the scene would unfold, offered no intervention. The dynamics of the encounter intrigued him, the glimmer of defiance in the boy's eyes reminiscent of something he had known long ago.

With an enigmatic gaze, Askellad allowed the unfolding conflict to paint its own canvas. The boy's unwavering resistance was a sight to behold, a thread of potential woven into the chaos. Would he succumb to the inevitability of his fate, or would he stand against the tide of odds?

As the clash continued, Levi's body moved with a blend of surprise and instinct. A flicker of familiarity coursed through him as his movements seemed to draw from skills long forgotten. The echoes of his past life guided his actions, each blow infused with a potency he hadn't expected. He managed to land a few strikes on his attacker, a testament to the unexpected wellspring of power within him.

However, reality reasserted itself, the assailant's experience and advantage prevailing. The clash of steel against steel gave way to a resounding strike, a blow that left Levi vulnerable and exposed.

As the blade's edge pressed against Levi's skin, the weight of impending death settled upon him like a suffocating shroud. Amidst the tumultuous spectacle, Askellad stood as a silent observer, his eyes tracing the unfolding drama with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. The boy's display of combat prowess had elicited a raised eyebrow, a testament to the unexpected turn of events.

As the raider's blade poised for the final, fatal strike, a sudden command shattered the tension. "Stop." Askellad's voice cut through the chaos, its authority absolute. The raider's movement halted abruptly, surprise etching across his face as he glanced toward their leader for guidance.

Levi, too, froze in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. The unexpected reprieve left him momentarily stunned. As the dust settled and the raider's weapon lowered, Askellad's gaze remained steady, his expression inscrutable.

"Why spare him, chief?" one of the men dared to question, his confusion evident. The sentiment was shared by the others, their glances exchanged in a silent chorus of astonishment.

Askellad's gaze shifted, his eyes locked onto Levi, a contemplative light in their depths. "Rare talent deserves a chance to bloom," he remarked, his voice carrying an undercurrent of curiosity. "I see potential in him, a spark that sets him apart." His words held a weight that hung in the air, a declaration that defied the expectations of his reputation.

Levi's mind whirled, his emotions a tempest as he absorbed the gravity of Askellad's decision. Amidst the tumultuous tableau, Marcella's gaze was fixed on the unfolding events before her. The revelation of Levi's hidden strength had ignited a spark of surprise within her, an unexpected display of power that she hadn't anticipated. And yet, as the battle concluded with Levi's defeat, a chilling realization settled over her. In that moment of clarity, she understood the imminent danger that loomed over her son.

As the raider's blade poised for the final, fatal strike against Levi, the unexpected command to halt shattered the tension. Marcella's breath caught in her throat, the course of events taking a twist she hadn't foreseen. Hope flickered within her heart, a fragile ember reignited by Askellad's intervention. Survival was once again within reach, the specter of death momentarily driven back.

Driven by her own self-preservation, Marcella seized the opportunity, her voice ringing out amidst the chaos. "See, my son can fight as well, while he is only six years old," she proclaimed, her tone tinged with a blend of desperation and calculated pragmatism. Her words carried an unsettling truth—Levi's newfound combat prowess was a bargaining chip, a means to ensure her own survival.

Askellad's intrigue deepened, his interest in Levi growing with every layer of complexity that unfurled. The revelation of Levi's age only added to the enigma, a puzzle piece that defied the norms of their world. As Marcella continued to plead her case, the depths of her sacrifice revealed themselves, each word an embodiment of the dark corners of human desperation.

However, even amidst this tangled web of motives, Levi's feelings remained clear. Disgust and disdain emanated from him as Marcella offered him up not once, but twice, in exchange for her life. The realization that his own mother would so readily trade his existence for her own survival stirred a mixture of anger and betrayal within him. Askellad's revulsion mirrored Levi's, a shared sentiment that cast a shadow over Marcella's desperate plea.

As the tension reached its climax, Askellad's gaze shifted toward Levi, a silent recognition passing between them. Levi's masked visage held a stoic detachment, an emblem of the emotional distance he had forged. Marcella's pleas fell upon deaf ears, her final moments a culmination of choices she had made. The raider's blade found its mark, ending her existence in a flash of violence.

For Levi, the sight of Marcella's demise bore no weight of grief. Instead, a sense of closure settled over him—an acknowledgment of the culmination of her deeds.

With the raucous aftermath of battle as the backdrop, Askellad's steps carried him closer to Levi, the weight of his presence palpable. Their height difference created a natural dynamic: Askellad looked down, while Levi's gaze lifted to meet his. A subtle connection formed between them, a moment suspended in time.

The corners of Askellad's lips curled upward, his smile carrying a certain warmth. His inquiry, delivered with an air of casual curiosity, cut through the tension. "Hey, kid, would you be interested in joining my group?" The unexpected proposition hung in the air, a possibility that danced on the fringes of Levi's reality.

Levi's surprise was painted across his features, his gaze wide with disbelief. The thought of being offered a place among these mercenaries, in Askellad's company, was a twist he hadn't anticipated. The world was a cruel and unforgiving place, yet this offer held promise—of camaraderie, adventure, and a life less ordinary.

As the weight of the decision pressed upon him, Levi's mind raced. The battle had ignited something within him, a spark that burned with the thrill of combat. The adrenaline, the pulse of danger, it had awoken a part of him that craved more. He knew that growth in this world was only possible if he embraced the risks, faced the unknown head-on.

Levi's eyes held Askellad's gaze, his thoughts racing as he contemplated the path before him. It was a choice that held the weight of his aspirations and dreams. Amidst the chaos of the Vinland Saga world, there were people he yearned to meet, places he longed to discover. And so, with a mixture of determination and newfound purpose, Levi's response echoed in the air, "I accept, I will join you."

And so, Levi became a part of Askellad's mercenary group, setting out on his journey in the Vinland Saga world.