“...The Sword Saint killed the dragon and completed his bargain with the three hags, dooming us all with his pact for past and future generations. The hags used the dragon's heart to create the expanding woods. The kingdom of Electria was the first to fall as they were the closest to the border high-elf city of Rafiki. My great-great-something grandmother was a refugee. Sword Saint, cursed be his name,” the drunken guard rambled while ritualistically spitting on the straw strewn dirt floor.

The guard sloshed ale from his mug as he recanted his laborious tale for the second time today. He was a human male, seated alone at an unsteady wooden table with an unfinished meal in front of him. Goblins of various colors lined the wall inside stacked cages, gazing at the greasy chicken drumstick with undisguised hunger. All except one, it retreated into the shadows as it repressed the unpleasant memories.

What was my name again? It’s been so long, I can’t even remember anymore. All that’s left is that title and the hatred of the masses, haunting me. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, goblin’s don’t have names. They never live long enough to need one. Aside from me, that is, I can't die.

Those hags kept their promise and gave me my immortality. But there was a catch, there's always a catch. I should have known better than to make a deal with hags. Not only did they curse me into becoming a goblin forever, vermin lower than rats.

They also cursed the world with the expanding woods. Like its name implies, it just keeps growing, at a ridiculous pace. Chop one tree down and two more take its place overnight. It was the result of the dragon's heart becoming the heart of the expanding wood.

Centuries later, I'm still being punished for my arrogance. The great and mighty Sword Saint now only a lowly, nameless goblin fighting in numerous arenas for sport. Moved around as plump merchants trade me like livestock. No one knows who I once was, nor do they care. If they believed me, at best, I would be publicly executed for unleashing the calamity upon the world.

The goblin let out a heavy sigh as he rolled to face the other direction inside his small cage. He was different from the other goblins inside the cages. They were all of various earthen hues, ranging from green, yellow to brown. He was a dark blue color, nearing black, wearing only a loincloth for modesty.

He was kept in a separate cage away from the stacked up cages. Across from him, inside another lonely cage, sat a brown goblin with a slight reddish tint. Its eyes were closed as it ignored the ruckus caused by the goblins contained in the other cages.

The animalistic goblins gripped the rusted iron bars of their cages, hooting and hollering for the guard to feed them. Saliva drooled down their chins to drip on the cages below them at the scent of the uneaten roast chicken. His stomach rumbled in protest, but he suppressed his hunger.

Feeling something watching him, he looked up. Making eye-contact with the most feared creature inside the stabling area of the arena. A phantom cat. It was on the back of a low wooden cart, inside a cage filled with straw.

It was a feline, bigger than a mountain lion, with pitch-black fur and spiked protrusions growing along its spine. Phantom cats were renowned for their stealth and ambushing abilities. Their prey rarely even had the chance to react before ending up inside their bellies. He had fought them before, of course, but not since he was the Sword Saint.

The phantom cat hissed as its fur stood on end as it retreated deeper into its cage to escape his gaze. It could instinctively feel that he was dangerous, unlike any of the other goblins caged with it. Even the quiet, reddish-brown goblin was regarded as its prey. The unnamed goblin snorted in dry amusement at its actions.

"At least something still recognizes me," the goblin said self-deprecatingly.

After becoming a goblin, his mana had become wild and uncontrollable. It felt like a dragon sleeping inside his mind, ready to awaken and unleash its wrath upon the world. He hadn't been able to tame it to this day, relying instead upon his supernatural talent in swordsmanship that had earned him his title in the first place.

Everyone knew that goblins couldn't use magic or become attuned, not under normal circumstances at least. It was a side-effect of their unique innate trait that allowed them to breed with anything. For a goblin to harness mana, they must suppress their desire to mate. The goblin was disgusted to admit that he had been unable to overcome that lust himself.

His nose twitched as he smelled the scent of sex from a large holding pen at the opposite end of the stabling area. He had become accustomed to the smell of filth as goblins were forced to defecate inside their cages, usually on top of an unfortunate peer below. The holding pen was filled with nude female goblins. Two were in the middle of servicing a male goblin who had been victorious in his battle above. The remaining females ignored their companion’s coupling as they pressed against the cage. They were watching the guard raise the chicken to his mouth, ripping into the drumstick with his teeth.

The goblin tried to move his eyes away from the sight of their exposed breasts pressing against the iron bars. His body responded of its own accord, lifting his loincloth as his manhood bulged. He noticed the reddish-brown goblin watching him with bitterness, staring at his crotch in envy. The reddish-brown goblin was a mage, which meant that it was also celibate. Unwillingly.

Arena owners had discovered that the easiest solution to the shortage of mages was to create some themselves. It involved removing the unfortunate candidate’s genitals and turning them into a eunuch. The unnamed goblin growled at the mage, exposing his fangs. The mage sneered in response before looking away.

“Get back, you animals!” the guard shouted as two more men entered the room.

He banged a sword blade against the cage containing the females. They hissed as the let go of the iron bars. The guard opened the cage to allow the pair of men to enter. The male had filled the first female with his seed, only for his mating to be interrupted with the second female. The pair of men gripped the male goblin's arms, dragging him off the female and out of the large holding pen. The guard slammed the gate closed while retrieving the keyring at his waist. There was a loud click as he inserted a tarnished brass key into the lock and turned.

"You've had your turn, save the rest of the females for everyone else. There's more fights today, but sadly those two over there won't be coming back. They have to fight a journeyman mage from the Arcane Academy. It'll be sad to lose the master's most prized pets, but he's been more than compensated for their loss. No idea why a mage would willingly request to fight goblins, or that beast in the back. The master paid more for that phantom cat than one hundred of you vermin," the guard's said.

His words were drunkenly slurred as he walked past the stacked cages while twirling the heavy brass keyring on his finger.