Severin couldn’t dodge completely.
The impact caught him and sent him stumbling across the clearing. He managed to remain standing, but his back struck a tree hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
For a moment, everything seemed to blur.
The commander approached slowly, apparently confident that its prey had finally been cornered.
Severin coughed and forced himself upright.
His body was exhausted.
His mana was nearly gone.
And the monster in front of him was still strong enough to kill him if he made another serious mistake.
Yet, even now, a laugh escaped his lips.
"Heh..."
He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his face.
"You’re really making me work for this, aren’t you?"
The commander roared and charged again.
Severin pushed away from the tree just before the heavy weapon smashed into it.
Wood splintered.
The tree shook violently, and several branches snapped overhead.
Severin glanced at the damage and whistled.
"Remind me never to ask you to help with construction."
He was joking, but his mind was working furiously.
’Its attacks are powerful, but every heavy swing commits its body to a movement. I can dodge them, but I need to stop wasting energy running around.’
His talent continued to work in the background, helping him adapt to the pressure of the fight.
At the beginning, the commander’s attacks had seemed almost impossible to predict. Now, Severin was starting to recognize the patterns hidden within them.
The commander favored its right side when preparing a heavy swing.
It tended to step forward with its left foot before charging.
And whenever Severin attacked its torso, it instinctively turned to protect the wound, creating a brief opening near its opposite shoulder.
None of these weaknesses guaranteed victory.
But together, they gave Severin something he desperately needed.
A plan.
’I don’t need to overpower it.’
His eyes sharpened.
’I just need to make it commit to the wrong attack.’
The next exchange began with Severin taking the initiative.
He rushed forward, making a quick cut toward the commander’s arm.
The goblin blocked the attack with its weapon and countered immediately.
Severin retreated.
The commander followed.
Severin attacked again, this time aiming at its side.
Once more, the commander defended itself and swung back.
They exchanged several attacks in rapid succession, neither gaining a decisive advantage.
But Severin wasn’t trying to win yet.
He was testing his opponent.
Every movement was deliberate. Every attack was designed to provoke a response, and every retreat helped him confirm something he had noticed earlier.
The commander was becoming increasingly aggressive.
Its wounds healed quickly, but it still reacted whenever Severin struck a sensitive area. It also grew impatient when he refused to remain within its reach.
That impatience was exactly what Severin wanted.
"Come on!" he shouted, stepping forward with another attack. "Is that the best you’ve got?"
The commander let out a furious roar.
It raised its weapon high above its head.
Severin’s eyes flickered.
There it is.
The heavy weapon came crashing down.
At the last possible moment, Severin shifted to the side.
The attack missed him and smashed into the ground, burying part of the weapon in the soil.
The commander immediately tried to pull it free.
Severin lunged forward.
His sword struck the monster’s shoulder, cutting deeply enough to make it stagger.
Green blood ran down its arm.
For the first time in the fight, the commander’s recovery was delayed by the severity of the wound.
Severin’s eyes lit up.
So even your regeneration has limits!
He prepared to follow up, but the commander suddenly released its weapon and swung its free arm at him.
Severin barely managed to block.
The impact forced him backward, and the commander recovered its balance before he could press the advantage.
The wound began to close.
Severin retreated, breathing heavily.
"Damn. Almost."
He had created an opening, but it hadn’t been enough.
And his mana reserves were nearly empty.
He could no longer afford to waste time.
The next opening had to be the last.
Severin took a moment to steady his breathing.
The clearing had become strangely quiet.
The commander stood a short distance away, its weapon dragging across the ground as it prepared for another charge.
Severin could feel the fatigue in every part of his body. His muscles were heavy, his injuries hurt, and even maintaining his stance required more effort than before.
But his mind had never been clearer.
The longer the fight continued, the more familiar the commander’s movements became. His ability to judge distances had improved, and his reactions were becoming more precise. He was also learning to connect his sword movements with his footwork rather than treating them as separate actions.
It was as if every mistake had been teaching him something.
Infinite Adaptation & Evolution, huh?
A faint smile appeared on his face.
You’re one hell of a talent.
Of course, adaptation didn’t make him invincible. It couldn’t magically erase his injuries or refill his mana. If he failed to finish the fight, he would still have to face the consequences.
But it had helped him turn a hopelessly chaotic battle into one where he could finally see a path to victory.
Now he only needed to walk it.
Severin checked his mana one final time.
There was barely anything left.
Enough for one technique.
One attack.
One chance.
He slowly raised his sword.
The commander answered with a thunderous roar and charged toward him.
Severin didn’t retreat immediately.
Instead, he stood his ground, watching the monster’s shoulders, its feet, and the weapon in its hands.
Wait for it.
The commander drew closer.
Not yet.
Its weapon rose.
Severin’s fingers tightened around the hilt.
Now!
He moved sharply to the side, just as the commander unleashed another devastating swing.
The weapon tore through the air and struck the ground.
The impact shook the clearing.
But Severin was already moving.
He rushed toward the commander, using the brief moment when its weapon was committed to the attack. The monster immediately tried to turn and intercept him, but its movement was slower than his.
For a fraction of a second, its neck was exposed.
Severin saw it.
And he knew this was his chance.
He gathered the last of his mana.
Golden Saint Sword Art — First Form!