From the first moments of gameplay, this latest iteration of our beloved franchise demonstrates one singularly important element: lethality. Everything you do has great risk, even in what is ostensibly the tutorial level. Pick a fight with some monsters when you have a stick? Good luck. Fall from too high up because you don’t have a handle on the stamina system yet? Buhbye. Wander into the cold, or plunge into icy water? Linkcicle. Misjudge a parry? You’re gonna get hurt. Even some of the early Shrines give people trouble, as I’ve seen various Youtube personalities be killed or nearly killed by everything from the first little Guardian in the Magnesis Shrine, to killing themselves through the erroneous application of stacked metal crates. (Translation: they dun bonked their heads to death.)
As you progress further in the game, almost every instance and encounter reinforces the ideals of danger and lethality that are present. The game uses its overworld to teach you “If you take your time, improve your skills, and go in prepared, you will succeed. If you don’t do this, you will die.” You figure out ways to overcome enemy threats and environmental hazards alike. You fight enemies that grow stronger and more varied as you travel. You develop tactics for approaching enemy camps, and though these strategies will vary from player to player, the point is that the challenge presented by the overworld monsters will continue to reward you for your application of the various tactics you will acquire. Surprise attacks at night, freezing enemies solid, sniping from afar, aerial insertions, or just good old melee skill. Beyond simply dealing with enemies, you learn how to deal with the land itself. You discover and develop various foods and elixirs to deal with hot and cold. You learn that thunderstorms plus metal equipment equal disaster. You acquire clothing and gear to better protect yourself. You increase your stamina so you can climb higher or swim longer, at the tradeoff of simply having more life, i.e. you elect to use other means of survival rather than brute-forcing your way through situations with sheer hitpoint values. Perhaps you’ll simply learn to use Cryonis to navigate waterways. Through these interactions, Breath of the Wild spends a lot of time negotiating its pact with the player. So surely, after all this, you’d think that the various lessons taught throughout your time in the overworld would culminate in true tests that are the game’s dungeons.
Except that’s not the case. The game spends tens of hours preparing you for a trial it will never give you. With possibly one exception, most people will have little to no trouble solving the puzzle of a Divine Beast. Again with one exception, none of the Ganonblights are the least bit challenging. What danger they do pose is mitigated by a nearly limitless supply of healing items thanks to your ability to consume raw ingredients for health (all from the safety of the inventory screen). The enemies you do face within the Divine Beasts are the most pitiful of the pitiful, being limited to floating skulls and the very weakest of the Guardians. The small Shrines that dot the landscape can be excusable as mere speedbumps. There are tons of them, most have little or no buildup and aren’t meant to significantly halt the pace of overworld exploration, and they provide only meager material rewards. They last long enough to explore a puzzle concept or give a tough little fight, and that’s it. However, Divine Beasts are meant to be significant pillars of the game, with important character interactions and story elements that culminate in accessing them and are meant to significant benchmarks of the player’s progress. To have them relegated to 20-minute asides does a disservice to the game. If I was forced to guess why this decision was implemented, I would say it was likely due to the emphasis on exploring the overworld. However, this decision robs the overworld of a greater purpose. If the dungeons had been challenging, then that treacherous overworld would have served a twofold purpose: being engaging on its own merits, and preparing the player for the truly taxing challenge posed by what should be some of the most deadly environments in the game. These places are enclosed structures, under Ganon’s direct possession and control, and pervaded with his corruption. They should be some of the most dangerous places in Hyrule, period.
Hyrule Castle stands as a testament to this. From the moment you enter the castle, you are in capital-D Danger. Malice creeps everywhere. Where there aren’t Eyes, there are minions, and where there aren’t minions, there are Guardians. The monsters you’ll find there are all quite powerful. The player is given a choice at every turn. They can elect to make this excursion easier on themselves if they want. It’s possible to clamber your way straight to the top, or to use the Zora armor to swim up the various waterfalls in order to infiltrate the keep. But these routes are not the same as Hyrule Castle simply being easy, because that level of ease is a direct choice on the part of the player, and is also a reward for the choices the player made in order to arrive at this point in the game. Conversely, the player may opt to take the path of greatest resistance, mowing through vicious baddies and discovering some of the best gear that can be found. Both options are a reward for the skills and behaviours the player has cultivated throughout the game up to this point.
These dungeons should be chock full of moments for the player to put their best and strongest survival strategies and battle tactics to good use. Even though the player will likely use these tactics time and again while traversing Hyrule, by encouraging their use in dungeons the game had the chance to provide a clear and potent reward for the player at the end. This clear reward has a way of punctuating the overall game experience with a firm and memorable moment, cementing the sense of progression and accomplishment. By failing to challenge the player, the Divine Beasts rob them of that elevated gaming experience.
As you progress further in the game, almost every instance and encounter reinforces the ideals of danger and lethality that are present. The game uses its overworld to teach you “If you take your time, improve your skills, and go in prepared, you will succeed. If you don’t do this, you will die.” You figure out ways to overcome enemy threats and environmental hazards alike. You fight enemies that grow stronger and more varied as you travel. You develop tactics for approaching enemy camps, and though these strategies will vary from player to player, the point is that the challenge presented by the overworld monsters will continue to reward you for your application of the various tactics you will acquire. Surprise attacks at night, freezing enemies solid, sniping from afar, aerial insertions, or just good old melee skill. Beyond simply dealing with enemies, you learn how to deal with the land itself. You discover and develop various foods and elixirs to deal with hot and cold. You learn that thunderstorms plus metal equipment equal disaster. You acquire clothing and gear to better protect yourself. You increase your stamina so you can climb higher or swim longer, at the tradeoff of simply having more life, i.e. you elect to use other means of survival rather than brute-forcing your way through situations with sheer hitpoint values. Perhaps you’ll simply learn to use Cryonis to navigate waterways. Through these interactions, Breath of the Wild spends a lot of time negotiating its pact with the player. So surely, after all this, you’d think that the various lessons taught throughout your time in the overworld would culminate in true tests that are the game’s dungeons.
Except that’s not the case. The game spends tens of hours preparing you for a trial it will never give you. With possibly one exception, most people will have little to no trouble solving the puzzle of a Divine Beast. Again with one exception, none of the Ganonblights are the least bit challenging. What danger they do pose is mitigated by a nearly limitless supply of healing items thanks to your ability to consume raw ingredients for health (all from the safety of the inventory screen). The enemies you do face within the Divine Beasts are the most pitiful of the pitiful, being limited to floating skulls and the very weakest of the Guardians. The small Shrines that dot the landscape can be excusable as mere speedbumps. There are tons of them, most have little or no buildup and aren’t meant to significantly halt the pace of overworld exploration, and they provide only meager material rewards. They last long enough to explore a puzzle concept or give a tough little fight, and that’s it. However, Divine Beasts are meant to be significant pillars of the game, with important character interactions and story elements that culminate in accessing them and are meant to significant benchmarks of the player’s progress. To have them relegated to 20-minute asides does a disservice to the game. If I was forced to guess why this decision was implemented, I would say it was likely due to the emphasis on exploring the overworld. However, this decision robs the overworld of a greater purpose. If the dungeons had been challenging, then that treacherous overworld would have served a twofold purpose: being engaging on its own merits, and preparing the player for the truly taxing challenge posed by what should be some of the most deadly environments in the game. These places are enclosed structures, under Ganon’s direct possession and control, and pervaded with his corruption. They should be some of the most dangerous places in Hyrule, period.
Hyrule Castle stands as a testament to this. From the moment you enter the castle, you are in capital-D Danger. Malice creeps everywhere. Where there aren’t Eyes, there are minions, and where there aren’t minions, there are Guardians. The monsters you’ll find there are all quite powerful. The player is given a choice at every turn. They can elect to make this excursion easier on themselves if they want. It’s possible to clamber your way straight to the top, or to use the Zora armor to swim up the various waterfalls in order to infiltrate the keep. But these routes are not the same as Hyrule Castle simply being easy, because that level of ease is a direct choice on the part of the player, and is also a reward for the choices the player made in order to arrive at this point in the game. Conversely, the player may opt to take the path of greatest resistance, mowing through vicious baddies and discovering some of the best gear that can be found. Both options are a reward for the skills and behaviours the player has cultivated throughout the game up to this point.
These dungeons should be chock full of moments for the player to put their best and strongest survival strategies and battle tactics to good use. Even though the player will likely use these tactics time and again while traversing Hyrule, by encouraging their use in dungeons the game had the chance to provide a clear and potent reward for the player at the end. This clear reward has a way of punctuating the overall game experience with a firm and memorable moment, cementing the sense of progression and accomplishment. By failing to challenge the player, the Divine Beasts rob them of that elevated gaming experience.
