While he watched, saplings belonging to a multitude of different trees sprouted through the cold stone floor at his feet.

Where did all these plants and trees come from? I know with certainty that some of them didn't exist before now. I can feel the mana radiating from them. I also feel a strange affinity toward them.

The Sword Saint climbed a verdant hill in the centre of the temple, gently placing Eugene in a newly formed bed of moss. It previously belonged to the snout of the ancient dragon. He leaned down to pluck a mysterious fungi that suddenly grew next to Eugene's body.

Crushing it between his fingertips, rage filled his eyes. Hatred coursed through every fibre of his being as he straightened. He called upon the last reserves of his vast mana pool, using it to uncover traces of the Hags teleportation.

He walked down the hill to retrieve his ornate longsword. Channeling mana through its length, he aggressively spun while slashing. A mana blade manifested, aimed at the green afterimage hovering in the air visible only to him. It crossed the room, quickly arriving at his target, tearing open a void in space.

The surprised figures of the three Hags was revealed on the other side of the void. The mana blade disappeared through the opening, slamming into the first sister. Blood erupted everywhere as she screamed in agony, the sound similar in effect to nails on a chalkboard. The Sword Saint clamped his hands over his ears to block out the excrutiating noise. She collapsed into a heap as her sisters rushed to her side.

"Thou dares injure my first sister! We call upon the Hex embedded within the soul talisman. For thy transgression, thy lofty status is forfeit. The title of Sword Saint and thy true name will result in contempt in every corner of the world. I curse thee!" The third sister shrieked.

"Through the dreams of the slumbering one we call upon his raw power, thou shalt resemble the vermin thee so despises. I curse thee!" The second sister added.

"I curse thee!" The first sister echoed, weakly raising her hand toward him through the void. The other sisters mirrored her movements, the symbols adorning their flesh illuminating with mana.

The void sealed closed, but not before a stream of magick passed through. Immediately, pain engulfed the Sword Saint's body, originating from the talisman buried inside his consciousness. Dink's mind overpowered the memory, breaking through.

"You dare make me relive this pain, Hags? I may only be a shadow of my former self, but it's more than enough for me to challenge you!" Dink shouted in outrage through the lips of the Sword Saint.

He brushed aside rapidly growing fungi to reveal one with oddly familiar markings. Carefully plucking it from the group, he lifted it to his lips.

"Wait! Do not be hasty, Sword Saint. There is no need to disturb Akarad's slumber. It is but a dream fashioned through thy past experiences," the voice of the present-day third sister said inside his mind.

"The pain is not bourne of malice but to teach thee humility, lowly Goblin," the angered voice of the first sister added.

"Forgive our first sister's outburst. She is still troubled by the wound thou inflicted upon her all those centuries ago, Sword Saint. Despite our best efforts, it hath refused to heal," the voice of the second sister interjected.

"Of course it has. I poured a portion of my life essence into that attack. The injury not only affects her flesh, but also her soul. To recover, one would need to overwhelm it with strength. Hahaha, good luck with matching my power at my apex! Now, end this agony before I leave you with another souvenir to remember me by," Dink mocked.

"Hmm, if what thee said is true. First sister's injury can only be remedied by our fourth sister once she is born," the second Hag said thoughtfully.

"I hast access to only a fraction of fourth sister's reserves of power through my womb. It must be after she inherits control of the heart of the woods. There can be no mistakes this time, sisters," the third Hag replied.

"Each generation must improve upon the last. Upon our fourth sister's coming of age, she will wield a power that will vastly surpass that even of her father's, the Sword Saint. Thy child shall be thy downfall, Goblin. Our pact protects thee only until then," the first Hag venomously added.

"I never expected that I'd have to conduct an abortion on my own child. But needs must and all that. It'd be very unfortunate for a daughter of mine to be left in the care of mothers such as yourselves. If we are done here, end this apparition. My patience is waning thin," Dink menacingly said, tightening his grasp on the mushroom.

"The mushroom in thy hand is merely symbolic to alert the slumbering one. It has no substance on its own. Thou must experience the last part of this memory. It is the most important piece to the puzzle," the second sister said.

"We were not entirely truthful back then, Sword Saint. To be the vessel for a true dragon, a draconic slave race is needed. If a powerful Human were to merge with the soul talisman, Akarad would become restless," the third sister added.

"In that case, why choose a Goblin? It could have been any number of other races to choose from" Dink bitterly asked.

"An equal exchange for thy harm wrought against me. To render thy might impotent, a creature of wild mana was necessary," the first sister said with satisfaction.

"Ha, I get it. For a Goblin to gain control requires the ultimate sacrifice, of what it means to be a man. Alright, proceed with the vision, Hags. Let us be done reliving this nightmare," Dink said, tossing aside the mushroom in resignation. As soon as it left his hands, it vanished into thin air. It seemed the Hags were taking no chances.

The intense agony immediately returned, driving him to his knees. All the veins in his body popped out of the surface of his skin, turning black. His dried-up mana reserves burned away at his life essence to undertake changes throughout his body. Waves of light spread across his body, originating from the soul talisman inside his chest.

The crudely fashioned figure of the Goblin manifested within his consciousness, supplying the transformation with endless vitality. His body suddenly convulsed, driving him to his knees. The muscles contorted under his skin as they shifted in place. His body was suddenly dragged by an invisible force, conducting a mockery of a pirouette. His feet were mysteriously swept from under him, collapsing him face-first into the dirt.

Once he was lying on the ground was when the worst of the ordeal began. He was forced to remain alert and endure the agony of his bones and muscles being torn apart and sewn back together.

As he lay trembling on the ground, his body conducted the final stages of the transformation. Leaving him forever altered into the form of a uniquely distinguished Goblin, Dink Leathertongue.

Dink grit his teeth, pushing himself to his feet. The world around him twisted and turned, shifting to reveal the stars of the night sky above. He was lying in the back of a moving cart, a warm body pressed up beside him.