u/Global_Face_5407

I'm in the pagoda realm and I'm just not having fun. The game has been progressively getting worse from one chapter to the other and I'm wondering if the best is behind me. The dungeon is really bad. I fight the camera more than I fight the enemies. The curse in itself I could manage, but I legitimately cannot see most of the enemies I'm fighting because the camera will just spazz out when I'm in encounters. I'm not even getting mad, I'm just incredibly bored.

I really like the game. The boss fights are challenging enough without being frustrating. They feel rewarding when you beat them. Where the game fails is when it tries to be Dark Souls.

So I guess my question is: Is the game picking up the pace after the pagoda ? Is it worth powering through it or is it gonna be crappy dungeons like that onwards ?

I could look up a walkthrough, I know, but I really hate spoiling myself for the bosses. I like meeting them and having no idea what I'm facing for the first time.

Fair warning, I'm mostly writing this to vent.

I was still a teen, a 15 years old boy, when my mother left for greener pastures. By that I mean that she left the continent without explanations, but I knew that she was going after an old high school fling. She later confessed to this so I'm not pulling that out of my ass. So there I was, left alone with an abusive alcoholic father. The least I could say is that the next couple years were rocky. Having my ass kicked wasn't the worst of it. I could take it. Even knocked him out a couple times ! The worst was feeling that he wasn't there for me. He would routinely tell me he wished he never had me. That I was a mistake and that my mother left because I was a failure. That all I was was an expense. So, yeah, that messed me up quite a bit. I only came to accept that recently, at 40 years old.

Still, I never bothered anyone with this. My father was a somewhat well known guy in our community and I didn't want to tarnish his reputation. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't have helped me and would have only sunk him. Net negative.

Around ten years later, with me now being a grown man living on my own, my mother came back to the country. She wanted to rekindle and I figured it was alright. After all, we all make mistakes. Even mothers. It felt unnatural. Forced. She would always ask me to "be better" to have "an open mind" whenever family issues - between her, my half-brother (we share the mother) and myself - were concerned. Long story short, I never felt heard or respected in anything. My brother could publicly humiliate me and it was fine. For example once I was giving a public tea service in an event. He showed up, told me I knew nothing about tea in front of the people attending my service. My mother chalked it up to him "kidding" and not to "take it that seriously" If I was to disagree with him in private, you guessed it, I was asked to be more open minded. Maybe it's all in my head, but I always felt there was clear favoritism going on.

When my father fell ill and died, it all happened really quickly, is when I hit a wall with my mother and brother. She hadn't been with my father in 20 years. Hadn't seen him in 10. My brother hadn't spoke to him in 20. When I called her to tell her he was dying at the hospital she told me it was probably a lie, backed by my brother. As you can probably understand, it made me somewhat mad. I'm not too proud of it, but I screamed at her over the phone. I know you're never supposed to raise your voice on your mother, but it was just too much for me to bear in silence. I had been contacted by a doctor that convoked me to the hospital to unplug my father, as per his wishes, and all the support I got was "it's not true, you lie". So, yeah. I snapped. I didn't say anything outlandish to her. I just voiced my disappointment over the fact that in this precise moment I didn't need that sort of thing. I didn't need to be the one that was patient, cautious and gentle. I was the one in a bad spot and, for once, I'd have liked to be heard. This wasn't acknowledged. Once again I ponied up, figured it was better to be the "strong" man and carry on.

Then things got dark. My mother put pressure on me to sue my dead father's girlfriend to make sure I was the one to inherit from him. Even before the will was unveiled. Naturally, I opposed to it. Of course inheriting is nice, but it's better to honor the last will of a dead man. I was berated. Called an idiot for holding on to that sort of beliefs. Beliefs that I hold dear and, I think, define me. That one was really hurtful. Couple weeks later, my mother sent me a copy of her own will. I found the timing of rather bad taste but made nothing of it. I wasn't mentioned in it. Not even in passage. Well, I was, sorta. My brother was the sole inheritor. Afterwards his estranged girlfriend. Their son. The girlfriend's sister and, ultimately, "any surviving family member of the deceased". That was me. This made me sad. Not because I wanted to inherit of anything, but because I would have liked to be included, made part of it. I voiced my concern and was told to, you guessed it, be more open minded.

Things went quiet for a while. The next couple years were what I'd call formal and uninvested. Things weren't going great, but we had a relative peace going on.

Then I made the dramatic mistake of going on a camping trip. Why does it matter ? Because when I got back to civilization I was met with a barrage of messages, both recorded and written. My mother had sent me pictures of my nephew, condescendingly reminding me that THAT was my real family. That I needed to be there for them and all that jazz. Seeing as I was gone and couldn't answer, she had my brother jump in and order me to tell them where I was. Confronted by my silence, my mother then sent me a message through Facebook of all things telling me I'd never hear from her, my nephew or my brother again. That she respected my "decision". This wasn't the first time she had pulled this card on me. Making me the bad guy that has to be sorry, that needs to apologize for nothing and walk the path of redemption.

I had been gone two days.

That's pretty much when I quit. I'm just spent. I can't deal with this anymore.

Of course my mother tried to reach me since, my brother too, even through my friends, but I just gave up. I'm not even mad. I'm just sad, tired and I can't take it anymore. I've dealt with that kind of behavior for the last 25 years and I don't want to, anymore.

I'm not gonna lie, it keeps me up at night. Despite everything, even if I know that it's for the best, that I need to do this for my sake, when I lay in my bed at night all I can see myself as is a sick bastard that tortures his mother by leaving her life. I cannot bear the idea of inflicting emotional pain on anyone.

So yeah. Sorry for being so verbose, if anyone even made it this far. I know it all sounds like I'm being a drama queen and a sorry excuse of a son, maybe I am, but I swear I tried to deal with all of this as diligently as possible.

I probably need professional help to deal with all of that because it's not getting any better and I know I'm not supposed to feel the way I am.

If you made it here, thanks for reading me ! I don't know why, but it felts good writing it, at least.

Is the game still worth it chapter three onwards ?

Behold, a lone man ramblings !

Literally unplayable !