I'm pretty confident in my ability to judge video games. I've been playing them (getting worse in recent years!) for almost 40 years and writing about them for over 20, so it's rare that something takes me by surprise. But that's exactly what happened to Blades of Fireaction adventure from Mercury Steam. I enjoyed the studio's reimagining of Castlevania, Lords of Shadow, but its output since then has been so-so, including that published by Nintendo. Metroid Horror. My expectations for Blades of Fire were low to moderate. Incredibly, I haven't played a single game released this year that I liked more.
My early exposure to the game actually had such a negative impact on me that if I hadn't consideration in the game, it's highly likely that I would give up and move on to something else – I'm a firm believer in cutting your losses rather than wasting more and more time on something you don't enjoy. The combat felt unfair and unforgiving, the characters were dull and bland, and the visuals were pretty dull and had a decidedly last-gen vibe to them. Given the mental nature of the combat and experience, I tried and failed again and again to meaningfully progress through the first suitable area. I was upset and quite annoyed with myself for devoting part of my time to a game I hated.
And then, to my great surprise, it clicked.
Blades of Fire is essentially an adventure game, full of obscure paths, bridges to cross, and tall steps to climb, all of which lead you somewhere—maybe not where you really need to go, but to a place worth exploring to find something cool or just to admire the view. That first impression of a boring game couldn't be less representative of the one unfolding before you. This is the fantasy world that just begs to be immersed, noticed and enjoyed. It's all for naught, of course, if the gameplay you have to endure does little but frustrate.
Manage your cookie settings
The key to overcoming this turned out to be quite simple: meet the game at its level, rather than at what I expected. So yes, while Blades of Fire is a bit of a soul song, a genre I've typically failed to get real satisfaction from, it also has some obvious rules to obey – and those are what I think helped get me hooked. I was so determined to approach the game the same way as countless others, simply not expecting a radical departure from the norm, that I failed to see how Blades of Fire offered something different that the developers felt was better suited to their game than simply carrying over the necessary muscle memory from games in other genres.
There's a reason people joke about Ubisoft's open world games having a formula. While they're obviously not exact replicas of each other, you generally know what to expect and there's usually little to no friction. I'm not saying these games don't have a valuable role to play, while still appealing to many millions of players, but if you've been there and done that a few times, you, like me, may start to crave something different.
Blades of Fire felt bulky and clunky at first, but that was my preconceptions based on some very clearly laid out rules that I just didn't take seriously – it was something else I just didn't realize. Each of the enemies has different vulnerabilities and weaknesses, whether due to their general appearance or armor, so it is important to learn what weapons to use against each of them, as well as how to break through stubborn opponents and from which direction to attack.
There's no comfort in Blades of Fire, no rhythm to fall into as you move forward. Even a 30-hour lapse in concentration can cause serious problems, but it is worth the effort. Few games have ever given me such a sense of exhilaration, discovery, and a quality that is hard to describe with anything other than “pure video game.”
Truth be told, the game's combat system isn't some kind of “eureka!” moment isn't exactly a new discovery that will change video games forever, but the development team believed in this alternative approach and shaped the entire game around it, including a new weapon crafting system (which I didn't like, but I still appreciate the attempt to go a different route than what came before). Blades of Fire surprised me not only by being one of my favorite games of this generation, but also by how different it was from most other games I've played. It's a rare feeling in the world of big-budget video games – and make no mistake, while this isn't the triple-A ala Marvel's Spider-Mans of this world, there's no doubt that its budget will pose a serious challenge to smaller indie studios.
Funnily enough, the other game that I think will stick with me more than any other on my 2025 playlist is Death Stranding, a game I finally got around to playing thanks in part to the praise it received from this year's sequel. It also isn't bothered by conventions that go beyond the very basics of what makes a video game widely accepted by the mainstream. Kojima's departure from Metal Gear Solid and Konami baffles me at every turn, throwing in concepts like confetti at a wedding, confusing character names that border on parody, and deeply serious themes that, had they come from anyone else, might have slipped into the ridiculous. I'm not even a fan of Kojima per se, but there's no doubt that the industry would be weaker if his avant-garde blockbuster style didn't exist.
Death Stranding is a more polished game than Blades of Fire, and it also takes more risks because it can – its creator is as big a celebrity as the gaming industry has ever had, and he has a personal fan base that Mercury Steam and other development studios can only dream of – but both games emphasize how important it is to have a vision rather than a proven design document with all the rough edges smoothed out and the real magic of video games tossed aside. I don't mind if every idea doesn't work out – I'd rather play a game that involves some risk than a game that has nothing original at all.
