After several minutes, Griar put his back against the wall of a nearby house, breathing heavily, his clothes covered with dark blood, the axe he had been using was in poor shape, the iron was begin to be eroded and covered by rust because of prolonged contact with the filthy blood, even the handle had grown skinnier.
In fact, as he held the axe up, it broke in half, leaving only what looked like a weathered old branch in his grasp.
