Let me start this properly, because every time I talk about Ys I feel like I have to justify my place at the table. I haven’t finished Ys X yet. I’m a solid chunk in, I’ve fought enough bosses to know the game has teeth, I’ve upgraded my ship more than is probably necessary at this stage, but I’ve not rolled credits. And I’ve only played a handful of the older entries. I’m not some walking encyclopaedia of Adol Christin’s travel disasters. I’ve dipped in, loved what I played, bounced off one or two, respected the series from a distance. Which is exactly why this question matters to me.
Because the barrier with Ys has never been quality. It’s been intimidation. The series has history. It has legacy. It has about a million entries if you’re looking at it cold on a storefront. You see names like Ys VIII: Lacrimosa of Dana or Ys IX: Monstrum Nox and immediately wonder whether you’re supposed to have done homework before you’re allowed in. That’s the hurdle. Not difficulty. Not budget. Just the sense that you’re late.
From what I’ve played so far, Ys X: Nordics feels like the first time Falcom have consciously tried to remove that hurdle without sanding off what makes the series special. The most obvious change is focus. It’s Adol and Karja. That’s your core. No rotating trio in the opening hours, no colour-coded damage triangle to memorise, no sense that you’re missing some wider party dynamic you were meant to understand three games ago. The Cross Action system is simple on the surface and smart underneath it. You can swap between Adol’s speed and Karja’s heavier hits, or link them together for shared offence and defence. It feels modern. Not simplified in a lazy way, but streamlined in a deliberate one.
Combat is still fast as hell. That classic Ys rhythm is intact. You’re dodging at the last second, slipping around boss hitboxes, building momentum through clean play. When you nail a perfect guard and instantly counter, it feels brilliant. When a boss ramps up and you have to actually sit forward instead of half-watching, it demands your attention. But it never feels like the game is taking the piss. I’ve died. I’ve been caught out. I’ve been greedy and paid for it. Yet I’ve never thought, what the fuck was that. That balance is important for newcomers. It teaches you what Ys is about through feel rather than through tutorials and spreadsheets.
Then there’s the sailing, which I genuinely thought might be the gimmick that tips it over the edge. Ship traversal, naval combat, open water. On paper it sounds like feature creep, like the series trying to chase something bigger than itself. In practice, at least so far, it works because it’s restrained. You explore the Obelia Gulf, discover islands, engage in naval encounters that feel like extensions of the core combat loop rather than separate mini-games. It is absolutely not trying to be Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag. You’re not drowning in meaningless distractions. The sea connects content instead of bloating it.
What stands out most is momentum. Everything feeds into forward motion. Dungeons are tight and purposeful. Side content exists but doesn’t suffocate the main path. You’re rarely stuck doing busywork just to pad the runtime. It respects your time, which in 2024 feels like a minor miracle. That alone makes it more approachable than a lot of modern RPGs that mistake scale for substance.
Narratively, it also feels welcoming in a way I didn’t expect. Yes, Adol has decades of fictional history. Yes, there are nods that long-time fans will clock instantly. But I’ve never once felt lost. The story is grounded in this region, this conflict, this partnership between Adol and Karja. Karja in particular helps anchor the experience. She’s not just there to reference old adventures. She gives the story emotional immediacy. As someone who hasn’t played every prior entry, I don’t feel like I’m missing pieces. I feel like I’m experiencing a contained chapter that stands on its own.
And that’s the key thing. I’m not playing this through the lens of nostalgia. I’m not filling in emotional blanks because I’ve spent years with the series. I’m reacting to what’s in front of me, and what’s in front of me works. Visually it feels contemporary enough to avoid that mid-tier RPG stiffness. Combat has weight. Effects pop without becoming noise. It doesn’t scream blockbuster, but it doesn’t feel dated either. It feels confident.
Now, I can’t say whether it sticks the landing. Endings matter. Late-game pacing matters. There’s every chance it could stumble before the credits roll and I’d have to adjust my stance. That’s just honesty. But judging it on the hours I’ve put in, this feels like the most frictionless entry point the series has ever offered.
Hardcore fans might miss some of the mechanical layers from older entries. They might want deeper party systems or more complexity. And that’s fair. But for someone completely new, that restraint is a strength. It lets you understand what Ys is before it asks you to care about what it was.
If someone came to me tomorrow and said, I’ve never played Ys, where do I start, this is the first time I could answer without a caveat. Not start here but read a wiki first. Not start here if you’re patient. Just start here. You’ll understand the combat. You’ll feel the music. You’ll get why boss fights in this series have such a reputation. And if it clicks, there’s a whole legacy waiting for you.
From where I’m standing, still mid-playthrough, still sailing, still chasing that perfect dodge high, Ys X feels like a series finally confident enough to welcome new blood without apologising for its age. If Falcom land the ending, this could be the first Ys I recommend without context. And that’s a big fucking deal.
