Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (2019): The Review
Overview
Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice showcases FromSoftware at its most precise, brutal, and fearless, a razor-sharp action epic set in a mythic Sengoku-era Japan. Trading in the usual RPG stats for pure skill, precise sword clashes, and calculated stealth, it delivers a lean, focused tale of loyalty, revenge, and the heavy price of immortality. The challenge is merciless and the game makes absolutely no apologies for it, but for those willing to learn its deadly rhythm, the payoff is immense. For me, it stands as one of the most rewarding and unforgettable action experiences of the decade.
Score: 9.5 out of 10
The Positives✅
Sekiro doesn’t waste time pretending it’s something it’s not. Within minutes, it’s clear FromSoftware stuffed this game full of Soulsborne blood and bone, but then grafted an entirely new shinobi nervous system on top. It plays like a cousin to Dark Souls and Bloodborne, sure, but a cousin who spent a few years doing rooftop parkour, learned how to meditate in a bamboo forest, and can now parry lightning like it’s a bad Wi-Fi signal. The combat isn’t just good, it’s surgical. Every clang of steel feels like an exam you didn’t study for but somehow still pass through sheer panic and adrenaline.
Level design? It’s still that FromSoftware snake-maze of shortcuts and quiet safe zones, but Sekiro twists it into something more vertical and more predatory. Those Sculptor’s Idols scattered around the world don’t let you nap for long, but they appear often enough that you’re not living in constant fear of losing 30 minutes of progress to one guy hiding behind a vase. Coming from Souls games where you need a written will and emotional support group before entering a new hallway, Sekiro’s checkpoint pacing is almost merciful. Almost.
And then there’s the grappling hook, the moment you use it, you realize every other Soulsborne protagonist spent their lives walking when they could’ve been flinging themselves across rooftops like a blood-soaked Spider-Man. The verticality changes everything. Ambushes become delicious. Escapes become hilarious. Exploration becomes less “despair tour” and more “shinobi jungle gym.” Ashina Castle becomes one of the most unforgettable FromSoftware locations because you experience it from ground, roof, cliff, turret, and, occasionally, midair screaming.
Exploration stretches far beyond pretty scenery. Sekiro’s world is packed with folklore, half-truths, rumors, cursed monkeys, monstrosities that feel like oni sketches come to life, and those bite-sized mysteries that FromSoftware refuses to explain like a normal person. It’s a Sengoku dream filtered through fever, incense, myth, and blood. And the fact that you can resurrect yourself without sprinting back to your corpse like a clown? That’s a game-changer. Death is still a lesson, but no longer a 15-minute punishment jog.
The Negatives⚠️
Sekiro likes to pretend it’s more forgiving than Dark Souls, but that’s like saying a blender is nicer than a chainsaw. You will still get folded like origami by enemies who swing nine times in a row at the exact rhythm designed to humiliate you. The whole “Just deflect” philosophy is brilliant but brutal, and anyone who tries to dodge-roll like they’re still in Yharnam is going to get slapped into the title screen so fast they’ll hear it in Dolby Atmos.
And let’s talk about Dragonrot, FromSoftware’s way of shaming you for dying by making NPCs cough like they’ve been chain-smoking misery. You’ve got resurrection, sure, but abuse it and suddenly people you care about are rotting, and your Unseen Aid becomes a statistical myth invented to give you hope. For some players, the penalty won’t feel too harsh, but it definitely injects a lingering guilt into your failures. Nothing like trying to master parry timing while thinking, “Is this illness my fault?”
The story starts out compelling, but for a long stretch, you’re more errand boy than legendary shinobi. Soulsborne storytelling usually thrives on player curiosity, but Sekiro spends a good chunk of time telling you what to do instead of letting you uncover it. Later, the plot hits mystical heights and becomes richer, stranger, better, but getting there can feel like you’re following orders, not forging your own path.
And let’s be very clear: Sekiro has one of the most punishing learning curves FromSoftware has ever unleashed. The game tells you what to do more than previous titles, but mastering it demands rewiring your gamer brain. If your instincts scream “back away!” whenever danger looms, Sekiro will break you. The game requires commitment, repetition, humiliation, and finally, glory. But the road is paved with profanity.
The Experience 🎮
Sekiro succeeds because it makes you earn every drop of triumph. The moment the combat finally clicks, when your parries are flawless and the boss is the one panicking, you feel like a mythical sword saint whose blood type is precision-timing. The posture system is genius: it makes every encounter feel like a duel, not a damage race. You’re not trying to hit the enemy, you’re trying to break their will to stand.
Stealth is not a gimmick here; it’s a lifestyle. Deathblowing an enemy from the rafters, leaving behind a geyser of arterial confetti, never gets old. The world is full of horrifying creatures, corrupted monks, assassins, gunmen, and some unstoppable nightmares that force you to throw honor in the trash and sprint-stab from behind. There are few joys in life like cheesing a 20-foot demonic ape because dignity is for people not trapped in hard mode realism.
Progression is streamlined, refreshing, and focused on skill, not build spreadsheets. No stat grinding. No fashion meta. No upgrading a new weapon every 11 minutes. You live and die by your katana and your prosthetic arm, firecrackers for beast panic, spear for armor, umbrella for not getting disintegrated by ghost screams. Tools and skills create a flexible, satisfying power curve that rewards ingenuity as much as execution.
The story eventually blossoms into a tragic, mystical tale that blends immortality, folklore, and loyalty in a way only FromSoftware can. It doesn’t need encyclopedias to explain itself, it resonates through unforgettable spaces, whispered legends, and that signature “Did I just see God or lose my mind?” energy.
Sekiro is difficult, uncompromising, and absolutely transcendent when mastered. It doesn’t just challenge you; it changes how you think about combat.
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