焦点

SINGULAR FOCUS

In Sekiro you attack and deflect (this game’s name for a parry) to drain the enemy’s posture (which kind of substitutes stamina here), at which point they’re off-balance and you can finish them off with a Deathblow. Since there’s no need to balance various builds or tune the combat system to PvP, the timing of deflect is quite generous and, more importantly, a missed deflect seamlessly turns into a guard. If this sounds easy, that’s probably cause I’ve yet to mention that enemies also deflect and block a whole lot, have unblockable attacks that require specific actions to counter, and your health bar is so small you need a magnifying glass to see it.

At first it can be difficult to fathom that the challenges you’ll probably struggle with the most aren’t even real bosses. In Sekiro there are dangerous, unique enemies placed at set points in the game world just as hostile Hunters were in Bloodborne, that to new players are ruthlessly difficult and may take hours to beat. The aforementioned General Yamauchi, for instance, is a particularly frustrating early-game opponent, as you encounter him right after beating another powerful foe and — in what seems like Miyazaki’s cruel joke — always need to eliminate his posse before you attempt the duel again.

You see, in Sekiro, From Software is doing what they always have: creating challenges that are skill tests as well as tutorials. Each boss, each set of enemies is a gateway to further parts of the game — ones where you have no business being if you can’t deal with the challenge at hand. In theory, that’s true of all well-designed games, but I’ve never seen it as transparent nor enforced so strongly as in Sekiro. It’s a game of hard counters, where if you learn and practice the proper course of action, you win all but automatically. If you don’t? Well, most mini-bosses kill you in two hits; try again until you get it perfectly right.

That’s suprisingly rigid design for an action game. All enemy moves are telegraphed; to every action there’s a specific counter that you need to perform — the combat is full of determinist design elements. See the opponent ready for a horizontal slash? Jump over it and kick them in the head. Long combo? Deflect as many hits as you can. An aerial attack? Throw a shuriken. If you’re having trouble with any particular pattern you can even practice reacting to it against a living training dummy, fighting game-style. Bosses in Sekiro are either an amalgamation of every enemy type you’ve fought before them or lessons for future use — the horseback warrior from the game’s trailers, for instance, is designed to teach you to stand your ground and realize deflection is also your best attack, while the agile Shinobi, Lady Butterfly, serves to show you the value of side-dodge counter. Your inevitable reunion with Genichiro Ashina, the standard Soulsborne psyche-out boss that you’re not supposed to win against at the game’s outset, is an epic battle that also feels like a prog rock Guitar Hero song. He mixes all the tricks you’ve learned to counter until now and, if you react to each note perfectly, the battle even has a certain rhythm noticeable in the ringing song of steel against steel.

When you’re at the point of absent-minded, thorough resignation during the beginning hours of Sekiro, remember this: all that frustration serves a purpose. Through mechanics and level design Miyazaki is going to hammer you into the shape you need to be in to enjoy his game, no matter how long it takes.