On replaying Virtual Hydlide, I noticed remarkable similarities with Shining the Holy Ark: the little fairies, the man-eating trees and chests, the inevitable mine cart ride, the same stereotypical dungeons (cemetery, catacombs, haunted mansion, and the obligatory mystical tower at the end). Plus, both of these titles shamelessly “borrow” from a model rooted in a previous console generation. It would seem that recycling and standardisation trends in video games aren’t exactly new! You know who else is in the club? Dark Savior!
The title from which Shining the Holy Ark draws its “inspiration” is called Shining in the Darkness (Sega Genesis, 1991), a first-person role-playing game similar to Dungeon Master, except that battles trigger randomly and are turn-based. This game introduced the Shining series, mainly known for Shining Force 1 to 3, top-down tactical RPGs.
I’ve already mentioned that I lack patience for Japanese RPGs. Shining the Holy Ark had intrigued me with its presentation and, against all odds, left me with a favourable impression, certainly due to its brevity. I admit this doesn’t sound like a compliment, but I grant it in good faith, whilst anxiously remembering my unsuccessful attempt to complete Albert Odyssey (Saturn, 1996). That one will get its own page someday, once I’ve received my Prozac prescription…
The graphics in Shining the Holy Ark seem pretty unique to me. I believe they pre-rendered 3D models, giving them this smooth, light-reflecting appearance, before animating them in 2D. The monster animations is particularly well done.
Another compliment? The ergonomics are excellent. The interface is so clean! It’s probably easier, you might say, when it’s copied from an earlier game. (I know one that still managed to mess it up, but I’ll hold my tongue…)
For instance, I appreciate that when I buy a piece of equipment from the merchant, they offer to equip it and then sell the replaced item. And besides being considerate, the merchants are generous when buying back our old armour at 75% of the price!
On the quality-of-life front, the inventories (and healing spells) of all your characters (including those “in reserve”) remain accessible outside of combat. You can even modify the group composition whenever you want, without having to return to the village.
I usually say that style alone isn’t enough to make a good game. But if a game has the kindness not to be a pain in the neck, that’s a bonus which increases my leniency. Conversely, I remember a recent title that forced me to follow a tortuous protocol every time I wanted to retrieve an item from the bag of a companion outside my active group. (Oh bother, I can’t hold back anymore…)
It went something like: exit the dungeon and return to camp, talk to Astarion, ask Astarion to leave the group, skip the cutscene, tell him I’m sure, talk to Wyll, ask him to join the group, skip the cutscene, spend five minutes finding the item in Wyll’s bag, grab the item, talk to Wyll, ask him to leave the group, skip the cutscene, tell him I’m sure, talk to Astarion, ask him to rejoin the group, skip the cutscene, spend another five minutes finding the item in my inventory, give the item to Astarion, spend another five minutes finding the item in Astarion’s inventory, equip the item, return to the dungeon, forget to save… What was it again? Oh yes, the game of the year 2023. LOL! Sorry, I’m getting carried away…
The story in Shining the Holy Ark is as clear as mud. I won’t bother summarising it. The characters have no depth nor any sense of logic (no, ma’am! but please, no need to explain it again). I mentioned the “Varic the dwarf” syndrome on the Dragon Age: Inquisition page, the B-movie protagonist who ponders his own stupidity.
I got a kick out of the game occasionally asking for my opinion. Answering yes or no. Of course, my choice had no impact whatsoever. For example, the part where the anthropomorphic ninja dog forces himself into my group after I’ve turned him down three times!
At least the plot and dialogues don’t impose themselves. I can ignore them to explore dungeons. They aren’t terribly complex, and the automatic map makes things a bit too trivial for my taste.
Then there are the random battles, dreadfully repetitive but tolerable, thanks to this dynamic presentation and soundtrack (which also repeats itself, I must admit). Their frequency is quite annoying at times. I’ve emerged from one battle only to face another after a single step. At least this nuisance is compensated by the attribution of precious experience points, leading my characters to level up and strengthen their statistics, practically indefinitely.
This great thinker had perfectly articulated the idea:
I read that the game has a reputation for being difficult. Not for me, who am blessed with such incompetence when it comes to navigating or solving a “puzzle” (like: the door won’t open—smash down the door), that after hours of going in circles, I found myself several levels above what was expected…
I understand there’s something cathartic about watching numbers increase. It’s the kind of contemplative game that requires only a fraction of my attention. The perfect title to keep me occupied while a tradesman saws through tiles in my bathroom. Yes, I test games under extreme conditions!
Then there’s this mini-game with the little fairies (to collect), which are categorized into different types and need to be released at the start of combat depending on the direction the enemy comes from. This demands a minimum of attention. You need to press the right button in the first few seconds of the battle; if you succeed, the enemy takes damage, and you earn more gold and experience points. It’s an interesting gimmick that holds up for a few hours. I eventually got bored, though.
No joke, I must have spent at least 90% of the battles holding down one button. The only constraint is making the effort to heal everyone between battles.
To sum up, it’s a game that rewards dawdling, self-discipline and a fondness for numbers. A game meant for accountants who are renovating their bathrooms. Rarely have I felt so close to the target audience!
Special mentions to the good ideas that were scandalously underused:
equipment crafting at the blacksmith (poorly explained and random)
the “item repair” option at the merchant’s (never used, not even once!)
class promotion at level 20 (apart from changing the character’s outfit colour?)
various mechanics introduced in the dungeons, only to be abandoned too quickly
the dozen critical attack animations, for each character
status spells (sleep, illusion…) that are completely useless
And two or three criticisms to wrap up. Okay, four:
It’s impossible to find all the little fairies, hidden everywhere, without a guide. Some are concealed in the middle of a corridor; others require “pushing” a wall instead of “examining” it, with no clue to suggest this. Have fun “pushing” and “examining” every square metre in all four directions.
The additional heroes who join the group (bringing their total number to eight) are redundant (they have similar roles and spells). And since experience points are shared amongst all group members, including those who don’t play, I have no incentive to integrate into the “active” group a newcomer who lags several levels behind the others and will remain so eternally.
Although the interface is clean, I would have liked to see spell descriptions during battles, and to be told whether they affect one or multiple targets.
I encountered sound bugs towards the end of the game; a random note that remains active in the background. I think this happens when you finish off an enemy with a critical hit. Bump into a wall to make it stop.
