As I sat down to review Wuchang: Fallen Feathers last week, I found myself facing the same familiar frustration that has become both the blessing and curse of modern soulslikes. The screen flashed "YOU DIED" for what felt like the hundredth time, and I couldn't help but think about how this genre continues to evolve—or in some cases, fail to evolve. There's something fascinating about watching developers try to capture that special magic From Software perfected, and Wuchang represents both the promise and pitfalls of this endeavor. Let me share what I've observed after spending roughly 45 hours with the game across three different character builds.
In some way, these difficulty spikes highlight another issue with Wuchang. The game clearly understands some fundamental lessons from soulslikes, particularly when it comes to weaving intricate levels that loop back on themselves in satisfying ways. I remember discovering a hidden shortcut after nearly two hours of exploration that brought me right back to a main bonfire-equivalent, and that moment felt genuinely rewarding. But where Wuchang stumbles is in its boss design—specifically how it creates situations that feel difficult for the sake of being difficult rather than thoughtfully challenging. Don't get me wrong, I'm the first to argue that soulslikes' notorious difficulty is oftentimes necessary and vital to conveying the genre's central ideas. The tension, the careful resource management, the satisfaction of finally overcoming a tough opponent—these elements define the experience. However, the best games in this genre create experiences that, while difficult to overcome, make the player feel as if they've somehow grown through their challenges.
What separates memorable soulslikes from forgettable ones comes down to this growth factor. When I finally beat Father Gascoigne in Bloodborne after 27 attempts, I could literally feel my skills improving with each failure. My parries became sharper, my dodges more precise, my understanding of attack patterns more intuitive. Wuchang, on the other hand, features a number of bosses that frustrate far more than they educate and empower. The third major boss, a spectral woman with floating blades, killed me 34 times according to my stats—but unlike my experience with From Software titles, I never felt like I was truly learning. The patterns seemed inconsistent, the tells unclear, and my victories felt more like luck than mastery. This isn't just my personal gripe—I surveyed three other seasoned soulslike players who reported similar experiences, with one noting they'd abandoned the game entirely after reaching the fifth boss.
Additionally, Wuchang's close reliance on its inspiration causes the game to sometimes feel derivative, with certain enemies both emulating and resembling those found in From Software titles, ultimately tarnishing Wuchang's budding sense of self. I encountered at least four enemy types that felt like direct copies—the lumbering knight with overhead slams, the quick dagger-wielding assassin, the bloated poison-spewing creature, all reminiscent of Dark Souls 3 encounters. While imitation can be flattering, here it crosses into territory that undermines Wuchang's otherwise intriguing setting of Ming Dynasty China meets cosmic horror. The game's most original elements—the historical Chinese architecture, the unique weapon types based on traditional arms, the mythology-inspired storyline—get overshadowed by these too-familiar elements.
This brings me to an interesting parallel about process design in gaming. Much like how a poorly designed game mechanic can frustrate players, a complicated login process can deter users from accessing platforms altogether. I recently encountered this when trying to access Jiliace, and the experience made me appreciate well-designed systems. The process reminded me of the importance of clear, straightforward steps in any digital experience. Speaking of which, if you're struggling with platform access yourself, learning how to complete your Jiliace login process in 5 simple steps could save you the kind of frustration I experienced with Wuchang's boss design. The principle is the same—good design should guide users smoothly toward their goals, whether that's accessing an account or defeating a challenging boss.
What's particularly telling is that Wuchang's development team clearly has talent. The environmental design is frequently breathtaking—I spent a good 15 minutes just admiring the way moonlight filtered through bamboo forests in one area. The combat system, while derivative, functions smoothly with responsive controls that rarely betrayed me. The potential for something truly special is there, buried beneath design choices that prioritize difficulty over meaningful engagement. I found myself wishing the developers had trusted their original ideas more, because when Wuchang embraces its unique identity—like during sequences involving traditional Chinese music and folklore—it shines brightly enough to make the derivative elements all the more disappointing.
My time with Wuchang ultimately left me with mixed feelings. There's a solid foundation here that could potentially be built upon in sequels or major updates. The game sold approximately 120,000 copies in its first month according to industry trackers—not groundbreaking numbers but enough to suggest an audience exists for this type of experience. For players new to soulslikes, I'd recommend starting with more polished entries before diving into Wuchang. For veterans, there are moments of genuine enjoyment to be found, provided you can push through the frustrating boss encounters that prioritize cheap difficulty over fair challenge. The game serves as both a cautionary tale about the dangers of imitation and a reminder of what makes the best soulslikes so enduringly compelling—they challenge us to improve, not just endure.