“Take it,” the man commanded.
Neptune reached out and wrapped both hands around the thick oak handle of the axe but it fell to the ground the moment the man let go of it. He took a deep breath, planted his feet, and pulled with everything he had. For a split second, he expected the tool to fly upward, but the iron head didn't even budge. Instead, the weight of the axe dragged Neptune downward. He stumbled, his hands slipping, but the axe remained stuck to the grass.
The masked man watched him, letting out a short, sharp huff of breath that sounded like a laugh, though there was no humor in it.
“It is heavy,” Neptune panted, his face turning a bright shade of red. He tried again, his knuckles turning white, but the axe felt as though it were rooted into the very earth.
“It is just wood
