Square of Death

The quake of battle energy surged through Ragnar's body as he bellowed, "For Glory!"

Steel sang in response as more people drew weapons, with the grunts of anger and challenge chorusing throughout the Danish camp.

Ragnar quickly realized he was in a bad position, nearly surrounded by the Danes with one arm occupied. He had to make sure he could still move effectively without getting Erika killed.

The hairs on his skin prickled as he spun out to the side just as a dagger shot through the air where he had been standing. Ragnar took this as a signal that the battle had started as he carried the moment through the spin and brought his knee up and into the chest of one of the warriors.

A sickening crunch ensued with the crack of bones as the man dropped to the ground.

Ragnar didn't wait to see if the man was dead.

Quickly leaping over his body, Ragnar charged towards his next foe, a large man among the Danish crowd. He stood around 6' 2" with the same silver hair of the Earl's family.

"Shit!" Ragnar cursed under his breath. Staring at what looked like an angry brother in his hands.

Ragnar's stalked his prey before exploding into a dancing gait, approaching the large Dane as he feigned a slashing attack with the axe. Erika's brother raised his blade to defend the attack, but this left him open for what Ragnar truly intended. Bringing back his axe in the same manner he had during his sparring match with Thorkell, he struck with the tip of the axe head, going straight through the silver-haired Danes guard and skewering him in the face.

The Danes eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he struggled to control the last vestiges of his life before crumpling to the ground.

In less than 10 minutes, the future of the Earl's family had been wiped out, and now all that was left of the Earl's legacy was his daughter, who was captured as a slave by the Sigvald family.

Ragnar used the reprieve to study his surroundings. He still needed to survive another 10 minutes if he wanted to live long enough for the reinforcements to arrive.

And as he spent time killing man after man, each one falling for a feint or unable to defend from his unrelenting speed, Ragnar knew he was tiring.

Over 5 minutes had passed, and the area lay strewn with bodies of the men that had thrown themselves at Ragnar. He had no clue how his brother and father were fairing, but the fact that he had Erika on his back wasn't helping.

She had long since noticed that her brother had died and was sobbing uncontrollably while getting swung around at high speed.

"Shut up, Woman! Or I will put you down and make you fight for your life like the rest of these men." Ragnar let out a deep growl in between splitting a man in two and turning to parry another blade.

His speed was slowing, and the other men could tell. Though Ragnar could see they were shocked by his godlike stamina in their eyes, they saw the chips were starting to fall. And every single one of them wanted themselves to have the honor of killing such a strong warrior.

Gradually surrounded. The nicks on his skin were starting to accumulate as more and more blades got past his guard. Luckily for him, anytime too many people got close, he would use his axe to create distance. Sweeping in a wide arc and tearing the intestines out of anyone that got too close.

The trick had worked repeatedly, and between deep breaths, he heard a soft voice of concern next to his ear. "Put me down, Ragnar, save yourself. I know that you're fighting for your life and your prize. But we both know that you won't make it out of here alive with one arm tied behind your back."

Ragnar gritted his teeth in frustration. Roaring as he kicked a man in the chest, caving it inwards and killing the man in the process. He knew that all the skills in the world wouldn't get them out of this situation.

He needed a lifeline, someone to challenge and bade his time.

Throughout the entire fight, Ragnar noticed a man standing behind everyone, watching the expression on Ragnar's face. He was clearly someone of import, as he had better clothing, mail and high-quality fur on his person. And a sword by his side. Rare for Vikings in this day and age. Waiting and biding his time.

Ragnar tried to push the battle in his direction to force the conflict sooner rather than later. He knew he'd require his strength to kill this man.

As such, he stomped on the body of a man he had just cut down before pointing his axe to the mysterious man standing at the back. "I request your name and desire a square be made for a challenge! A fight to the death, man to man. I'd rather die by the sword of a famed warrior than one of these punks waiting for the chance to kill me."

Ragnar stated as he looked around, snarling at the disgusting faces of the unkempt Danes.

The entire crowd that was brewing around Ragnar quieted down. He had clearly gained their respect to deserve a challenge, and as such, they all waited for the man in question to respond.

The braided-blonde-haired man smiled mysteriously before responding, "And what? Give you time for your reinforcements to arrive? I've seen your signal already, and you will die here, Ragnar, son of Harald Gunnar. I have heard of your father's great exploits in war, and I, Eric Bloodsword, will give you a death worthy of your stature."

He slowly opened his arms in invitation as he unsheathed his straight two-edged sword. "Come let us fight!"

He flourished to the roar of his Viking comrades.

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