In epic historical narratives, critical attention naturally gravitates toward charismatic kings, tactical masterminds, and legendary duelists. Yet one of the crowning achievements of Makoto Yukimura's Vinland Saga is its compassionate, unsparing gaze upon ordinary foot soldiers—the nameless thousands historical chronicles discard as statistics. The tragic trajectory of the brothers Atli and Thorgrim within Askeladd's mercenary company brilliantly captures the reality of the common soldier, trapped within the gears of an empire-building war machine he neither understands nor controls.

The Banality of the Foot Soldier

Hannah Arendt famously coined the "banality of evil" to describe how ordinary individuals participate in catastrophic harm not out of demonic malevolence, but through bureaucratic routine, social pressure, and unthinking obedience. In the context of early medieval Scandinavian warfare, Atli and Thorgrim illustrate this exact psychological trap.

They are neither psychopathic killers nor visionary adventurers; they are simple men born into harsh Scandinavian climates where freezing winters routinely brought starvation to farming families. Joining Askeladd's company offered practical employment: following a shrewd captain who ensured warm rations, regular plunder from English churches, and survival. Violence became a mechanized trade, stripped of both personal malice toward victims and martial glamour for perpetrators.

The Slow Moral Atrophy of Mercenary Life

Throughout the prologue, we observe the steady erosion of these men's moral souls. When the warband sacks a remote Christian village in the dead of winter to secure winter quarters, butchering innocent villagers to leave no witnesses, Atli and Thorgrim execute their duties without dramatic flair. There are no celebratory war chants, only weary breaths in the freezing snow and an overwhelming desire to finish the grim task and sit by the fire.

"Captain, we are exhausted. We're starving, freezing, and Thorkell's vanguard is on our heels. We just want our silver so we can go home to our families."

The tragedy of the common soldier lies in the steady abdication of moral agency. By delegating their conscience to Askeladd's charismatic authority, the mercenaries convince themselves that blood guilt belongs solely to the man giving the commands. Yet when fortune turns and the company is trapped in English blizzards, the fragile illusion of brotherhood collapses into desperate panic.

The Mutiny and the Awakening of Guilt

The band's mutiny against Askeladd does not stem from political rebellion, but from animal terror. Thorgrim and Atli lead the desperate faction seeking to trade Prince Canute for their own lives. It is the raw manifestation of survival instinct when leadership can no longer guarantee safety.

The subsequent clash with Thorkell's Jomsvikings decimates the unit. Thorgrim completely loses his sanity amidst the slaughter, broken by terror and guilt into a mute, traumatized husk. Atli, wounded and facing execution, is spared by an unexpected flash of mercy from Askeladd and Thorkell, who grant him his freedom.

Spinozist Conatus of Survival and Atli's Peasant Epiphany

In Baruch Spinoza's philosophy (Ethics, Part III), every existing being is defined by its conatus: the persevering endeavor to preserve its own being and remain alive. Within a Norse culture sick with death-worship—where warriors like Thorkell or Thorgil rush gleefully toward slaughter for a verse in Valhalla—the brothers Atli and Thorgrim represent the prosaic, cynical, yet deeply human voice of the rank-and-file soldier who joined the campaign solely to return home alive with a pouch of silver.

Makoto Yukimura uses the mutiny of Askeladd's band beneath the English blizzard (Manga Chapters 38–40 / Anime Episodes 19–20) to demolish the myth of pirate brotherhood. For years, Thorgrim and Atli admired Askeladd's tactical genius while victories were cheap; yet the moment the wind turns in Thorkell's favor, they do not hesitate to betray their captain to save their own skins.

Far from condemning them with epic moralism, the narrative exposes the abject horror they suffer when Askeladd and Thorkell butcher nearly the entire company upon the snow: Thorgrim loses his sanity upon realizing that the game of plunder always ends in an abattoir.

Yet the most luminous detail of this sub-arc lies in Atli's fate. When a blood-soaked Askeladd spares both him and his broken brother and commands him: 'Go back to your village, drop the axe, raise goats, and never set foot on a battlefield again,' Atli obeys immediately through tears of gratitude. While kings and heroes perish at the York banquet, the humble deserter Atli returns to his farm to care for his ailing brother—modestly foreshadowing the transition from sword to plow that Thorfinn himself will take years to achieve.

Key Philosophical & Ethical Takeaways

  • Fragility of Mercenary Loyalty: A community founded exclusively upon dividing spoils disintegrates at the first military setback.
  • The Sanity of Fear: Against Thorkell's homicidal delirium, Atli and Thorgrim's terror is a healthy biological reaction to the absurdity of slaughter.
  • Askeladd's Hidden Clemency: By sparing Atli and sending him back to the soil, Askeladd saves the only member of his crew capable of abandoning piracy.

Conclusion: The Grace of Returning to the Soil

Atli's parting conversation with Askeladd contains one of the manga's most poignant ethical lessons. When Askeladd urges him to permanently discard his weapons, return to his village, find a good wife, and earn his bread honestly with a farming plow, Atli weeps. He recognizes that the supreme victory of his life was not surviving a battle, but receiving an opportunity to escape the cycle of violence. Atli's survival reminds us that even within the most hardened soldiers lies a buried, quiet hope of returning home to peace.