After a still Cave Story-esque Momodora 3, the series began a transformation of sorts. Reverie Under The Moonlight caught the Dark Souls bug and was all the better for it; a straightforward melancholic metroidvania with beautiful pixel art and a simple-yet-visceral combat system that relied heavily on rolling and limited heals. It might've grown stale given enough hours, but it was just the right length. Minoria sported a new artstyle to compliment its Hack'n slash ambitions. Said ambitions were mostly fulfilled, though tainted by a lack of polish its simpler predecessor didn't suffer from. Still, both were firsts for rdein&co, and Moonlit Farewell's all-new challenge is to improve within continuity. Not an experiment, but a proper follow-up.
And so, the spirit of Koji Igarashi (who is very much alive and well despite the drama of this sentence) was metaphorically called forth to haunt the game's systems. Moonlit Farewell echoes its predecessor in combat rhythms, aesthetic language and the compact recursiveness of its world design, but using them only as a foundation. On top of it: numbers. Moonlit Farewell is Momodora with stuff in it. The doujin game feeling prevails in the small art inconsistencies, the indulgent, horny anime designs and the honesty with which it presents everything, but holding it together is a very robust set of mechanics.
Healing and magic spells now deplete the same bar (a welcome shade of Hollow Knight) and a stamina bar caps rolling/sprinting (a less welcome Dark Souls import that ends up hurting navigation more than it improves combat). Combat itself is faster, not through player input but the literal shape of the game. A higher resolution and a panoramic window shine a spotlight on crowd control and proyectile speed, allowing for new combat situations. It's all fine-tuned beyond even Reverie; the kind of game where you can have fun in a white room with a single enemy just by watching the hitstops, screenshakes and little flashes of light. Beyond that, as previously stated, a hint of Igarashi.
The character has visible stats now, subject to equipment and permanent pickups, which does increase the probability of a decent explorer being overprepared but also creates a wide array of clever synergies. Playing around with builds is notably easier than in proper igavanias and even something like Hollow Knight (whose presentation clearly inspired Moonlit Farewell's), with the drawback being that its possible playstyles aren't as radical the ones offered by those titles. They sure feel like they are when you see the changing damage numbers on screen, though. They have a rhythm of their own, reflective of the strength, range and focus of the player, and they never go away because you're always hitting something.
Punctuating all of the above is fantastic level and encounter design. Every room is an idea. They never repeat (though they do build up) and there's an intention behind each, without a single enemy or obstacle thrown in for no reason. That also means you can consider your equipment and strategize accordingly beyond general preference. The game is short as a result of this essential approach (like 8h for 110%), but that just proves that Bombservice understand good pacing and have been perfecting it over years. And going back to the start of the review, I can safely call Moonlit Farewell a triumph--grown naturally from their previous work to be bigger and better without losing any of its bluntness. It's an artisan's work, humble despite the obvious technical ability behind it.
And so, the spirit of Koji Igarashi (who is very much alive and well despite the drama of this sentence) was metaphorically called forth to haunt the game's systems. Moonlit Farewell echoes its predecessor in combat rhythms, aesthetic language and the compact recursiveness of its world design, but using them only as a foundation. On top of it: numbers. Moonlit Farewell is Momodora with stuff in it. The doujin game feeling prevails in the small art inconsistencies, the indulgent, horny anime designs and the honesty with which it presents everything, but holding it together is a very robust set of mechanics.
Healing and magic spells now deplete the same bar (a welcome shade of Hollow Knight) and a stamina bar caps rolling/sprinting (a less welcome Dark Souls import that ends up hurting navigation more than it improves combat). Combat itself is faster, not through player input but the literal shape of the game. A higher resolution and a panoramic window shine a spotlight on crowd control and proyectile speed, allowing for new combat situations. It's all fine-tuned beyond even Reverie; the kind of game where you can have fun in a white room with a single enemy just by watching the hitstops, screenshakes and little flashes of light. Beyond that, as previously stated, a hint of Igarashi.
The character has visible stats now, subject to equipment and permanent pickups, which does increase the probability of a decent explorer being overprepared but also creates a wide array of clever synergies. Playing around with builds is notably easier than in proper igavanias and even something like Hollow Knight (whose presentation clearly inspired Moonlit Farewell's), with the drawback being that its possible playstyles aren't as radical the ones offered by those titles. They sure feel like they are when you see the changing damage numbers on screen, though. They have a rhythm of their own, reflective of the strength, range and focus of the player, and they never go away because you're always hitting something.
Punctuating all of the above is fantastic level and encounter design. Every room is an idea. They never repeat (though they do build up) and there's an intention behind each, without a single enemy or obstacle thrown in for no reason. That also means you can consider your equipment and strategize accordingly beyond general preference. The game is short as a result of this essential approach (like 8h for 110%), but that just proves that Bombservice understand good pacing and have been perfecting it over years. And going back to the start of the review, I can safely call Moonlit Farewell a triumph--grown naturally from their previous work to be bigger and better without losing any of its bluntness. It's an artisan's work, humble despite the obvious technical ability behind it.