A Dancer's Lament: Conquering the Hateful Oceanid in Genshin Impact's Legend of the Vagabond Sword

The memory of the Primo Geovishap’s defeat still echoes in my bones, a percussive tremor of stone and triumph. Yet, the legend’s path winds ever onward, leading me now to a stage not of earth, but of water—a domain where serenity is a lie, and every droplet holds a nascent malice. I stand before the second act of the Vagabond Sword’s tale, facing a familiar foe reborn in fury: the Hateful Oceanid. It is a phantasm of pure, concentrated animosity, a tempestuous ballet of hydro energy that seeks to drown not just the body, but the spirit of any who dare challenge it. While whispers in taverns suggest this aqueous sovereign may be the least formidable of the event’s current sovereigns, I know better than to underestimate a dance where the very floor can betray you.

This is no simple reprise of the Raging Rhodeia from memories of the Wishful Drops. No, this is a crescendo. The fundamental challenge, the core of its vexing nature, lies in its refusal to fight alone. Unlike its solitary counterpart lurking near Wuwang Hill, the Hateful Oceanid conducts a symphony of aggression, summoning forth legions of hydro mimics—creatures of pure, liquid hatred—to swarm the battlefield. The fight becomes a desperate struggle for attention, a frantic game of whack-a-mole where the true maestro hides behind a wall of disposable, yet deadly, minions.

As I prepared for this aqueous duel, the winds of favor blew for specific champions. The legend itself seemed to anoint four with a 20% damage boost: the glacial aristocrat Eula, the explosive little sun Klee, the solemn nun Rosaria, and the fiery legal expert Yanfei. While Eula’s cryo might and Klee’s persistent pyro bombardment are undoubtedly ideal, the key to victory is not in mandatory rosters, but in strategic symphony. From my own trials, two roles are non-negotiable for any party hoping to stay afloat:

1. A Cryo Elemental Character: This is your anchor, your source of control in the chaotic tide. The mimics, when they swarm, can overwhelm in moments. A cryo wielder allows you to freeze these aqueous assassins in their tracks, turning a frantic mob into a gallery of fragile statues for your main damage dealer to shatter.

2. A Ranged Character: This is your scalpel, your tool for reaching the unreachable. The Oceanid’s most perilous phases involve it retreating to a sanctuary in the air, charging devastating abilities like the Water Bomb or Hydro Pump.

The battle unfolds in waves of pressure. The Oceanid, floating with a disdainful grace, will periodically conjure its mimics—sometimes a pair, sometimes a terrifying quartet all at once. This is where the cryo ally proves invaluable. A well-timed blast can glaze the entire group, buying precious seconds to breathe and reposition. Without this control, you are merely a leaf in its storm.

Then comes the true test of patience. The Oceanid will ascend, becoming invulnerable to melee assaults, and begin channeling its cataclysmic attacks. This is the moment for the ranged specialist. As the air thickens with impending doom, peculiar Fitful Rapids will bubble to life on the arena’s surface. Hurling yourself into their center launches you skyward on a geyser of water, granting a fleeting, airborne platform. From this precarious perch, you must unleash a volley of arrows, catalysts, or thrown blades to interrupt its concentration and chip away at its health. It’s a dizzying, beautiful, and terrifying segment of the dance.

When customizing the challenge’s difficulty through its flair modifiers, wisdom lies in embracing endurance over brute force. I learned to prioritize increasing the Oceanid’s health and attack power to their maximum, while granting myself the full, generous 300-second time limit. Why? Because this fight is defined by periods of forced inactivity—moments spent dodging, waiting, or dealing with mimics. A longer clock allows for a methodical, cautious approach. It permits you to respect the boss’s patterns, avoid its intricate traps, and steadily erode its massive health pool with precise, ranged strikes during its vulnerable phases. Rushing leads only to a watery grave.

This, then, is the dance with the Hateful Oceanid. It is not a clash of brute force, but a test of composition, tempo, and resilience. You must control the chorus line of mimics with icy discipline, seize the fleeting opportunities granted by the rapids with ranged precision, and maintain a calm heart as the clock ticks slowly down. To defeat it is to understand that some battles are won not by landing the most hits, but by refusing to take the ones that matter. It is a lesson in hydrographic patience, a waltz on the edge of a waterfall, where victory is a slow, steady, and deeply satisfying evaporation of hatred itself.