Noah Romsdal Hallundbæk Sørensen
Some games are immersive but V Rising was so atmospheric, so consuming, and so perfectly oppressive that it pulled me straight out of reality.
Nostalgia has a strange way of dragging me back into games I thought I’d left behind, while curiosity keeps pulling me toward ones I somehow never tried.
That combination led me into a small collection of titles recently, but one experience rose above the rest and completely shut out reality for a while.
This is my own account, not an objective ranking, just the way V-Rising landed with me.
A slow rise to power
V-Rising opens with a classic vampire awakening, but the world I stepped into felt far more deliberate than the usual survival-game rush.
I emerged from the coffin weak, thirsty and half-feral, dropped into a top-down wilderness where every early decision carried weight.
The ambiance, dim forests, eerie music and scattered ruins, wrapped around me faster than I expected, setting the tone for hours.
Starting out meant doing the familiar: gathering bones, lumber and stone, carving out a foothold and testing basic combat.
Yet the game’s quiet confidence pulled me along. Nothing felt forced, and the world let me decide whether I wanted to sprint ahead or linger and build slowly.
a system without shortcuts
What quickly defined V-Rising for me wasn’t the mood, but the progression. Most survival RPGs reward grinding XP until a level number ticks higher.
Here, every drop of power depends solely on the gear I wear. If I strip everything off, even after defeating Dracula, I’m effectively level one again.
This structure blocks the usual shortcuts. No farming an over-tuned mob for experience, no exploiting quest loops.
My strength reflects exactly what I’ve forged, looted or built.
That choice keeps the entire pace in the hands of the player while also insisting that progress must come through the intended systems: crafting stations, castle upgrades, material refinement and exploration.
Tracking down V-blood carriers adds another layer. These figures, enhanced by remnants of old vampire blood, roam the world as powerful targets.
Hunting them feels like pursuing living boss contracts. Once defeated, I drain them for new abilities or crafting recipes that open more of the game piece by piece.
carving out a kingdom
Building a castle became one of my favorite mechanics. It isn’t just a shelter; it’s a physical representation of progress.
Expanding hallways, refining layouts, guarding entrances and powering everything with blood essence created a rhythm that blended survival with strategy.
Watching my crumbling starter shack evolve into a fortified vampire stronghold was satisfying in a way few survival titles manage.
V-Rising’s world also shifts from human settlements to eerie forests, poisoned wetlands and scorching zones where sunlight becomes a tactical hazard.
Traversing these places always reminded me I wasn’t the hero, I was the monster. And the world was built to challenge me accordingly.
spells, strategy and identity
The magic system shapes the game’s combat identity.
Each school, Blood, Frost, Unholy, Storm, Chaos and Illusion, offers a distinct mindset. Chaos turns me into a glass cannon: enormous burst potential, barely any safety net. Frost slows the world around me, letting me play tactically rather than explosively. Blood focuses on sustain, keeping me alive through heavy damage windows. Illusion manipulates positioning and trickery. Unholy applies rot and decay effects, while Storm delivers rapid, kinetic control.
Swapping skills felt like switching entire personas. I wasn’t just selecting spells; I was redefining the way I moved through encounters.
That variety kept even repeated fights fresh, turning the loop of farming, crafting and hunting into something oddly meditative.
the loop that held me
Eventually, the rhythm took over completely: gather resources, craft better gear, locate a V-blood target, defeat them, unlock something new, and repeat.
It should have felt repetitive. Instead, it became deeply engrossing. Each reward fed directly into the next goal, and every upgrade pushed me toward harder territories and stronger foes.
The game never pretended to be something grander than this loop, but it executed that loop with such clarity and purpose that hours disappeared almost unnoticed.
closing thoughts
What pulled me into V-Rising wasn’t just the vampire theming or survival mechanics; it was the way everything connected.
No wasted systems, no artificial grind, no filler quests. Just a clean, well-built progression path wrapped in a world that felt dangerous, strange and worth exploring.
For a game I downloaded on a whim, it left a far bigger impression than I expected.
