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I remember the first time I fired up God of War Ragnarok, thinking my experience with the previous game would carry me through. Boy, was I wrong. The combat system, while fundamentally similar, introduced enough subtle changes that completely threw off my rhythm. That on-screen attack indicator – the one that switches from yellow to red – became my personal nemesis. In the heat of battle, with multiple enemies swarming from all directions, I consistently lost track of that crucial arrow warning me about incoming attacks from behind. The visual feedback system, while theoretically sound, simply didn't stand up to the chaos of actual combat scenarios. I'd estimate I got hit by unseen rear attacks at least 3-4 times per major encounter in the early game, a frustrating statistic that forced me to completely rethink my approach to situational awareness.

What starts as a minor nuisance in the opening hours evolves into a genuine threat as you progress. Around the 15-hour mark, enemy behavior patterns shift dramatically. They become more aggressive, more coordinated. This is where the stunlock mechanic reveals its brutal efficiency. I vividly recall one particular encounter in Svartalfheim where a single Draugr's well-timed strike left Kratos vulnerable just long enough for two others to unleash their most devastating attacks. My health bar, nearly full moments before, evaporated in under two seconds. This wasn't a case of failing to execute a parry or dodge – the game simply didn't provide adequate tools to recover once that initial mistake was made. The feeling of helplessness was palpable, transforming what should have been a test of skill into what felt like a design flaw.

The comparison to the Valkyrie fights from the 2018 game is inevitable, but Ragnarok takes the challenge to another level. While there were approximately 8 Valkyries plus Sigrun in the previous title, Ragnarok introduces at least 12 encounters of similar or greater difficulty scattered throughout the realms. The margin for error in these battles is razor-thin – perhaps just 2-3 successful hits separate victory from a game over screen. A single misread attack indicator or mistimed dodge can cascade into immediate failure, demanding near-perfect execution across extended periods. This elevated difficulty creates moments of genuine tension, but also frustration when failure feels attributable to system limitations rather than personal skill deficiency.

Thankfully, the developers seemed aware of these pain points and implemented some quality-of-life improvements. The checkpoint system during major boss fights is arguably the game's smartest design decision. Unlike the 2018 title where dying at the final phase of a Valkyrie fight meant restarting the entire encounter, Ragnarok typically creates checkpoints after each major health bar segment. In my experience, this reduced retry time by approximately 40-60% on average, maintaining challenge while reducing frustration. This subtle change respects the player's time while preserving the intensity of these climactic battles.

Then there's Atreus, who transforms from a supportive sidekick into a genuine combat partner. His AI behavior shows remarkable improvement – I'd estimate he lands approximately 70% more meaningful interventions compared to his 2018 counterpart. Whether shouting warnings about off-screen threats or independently neutralizing projectiles I hadn't even noticed, he feels like an actual ally rather than a scripted companion. Mimir's callouts add another layer of battlefield awareness, though I found his warnings sometimes arrived a crucial half-second too late against the game's fastest enemies. The companion system isn't perfect, but it represents meaningful evolution that partially compensates for the visual clutter during intense combat sequences.

What fascinates me most about Ragnarok's combat is how it walks this fine line between accessibility and hardcore challenge. The systems are deep enough to satisfy veterans while remaining approachable for newcomers, though I'd argue the learning curve steepens dramatically around the midway point. Having completed the game on the second-highest difficulty setting, I'd estimate that approximately 65% of my deaths felt "fair" – the result of my own mistakes – while the remaining 35% stemmed from camera issues, unclear telegraphing, or the aforementioned problems with attack indicators. This ratio isn't terrible for an action game of this complexity, but it's noticeable enough to impact the experience during the most demanding sequences.

Reflecting on my 50-hour playthrough, the combat system ultimately won me over despite its flaws. The sheer variety of enemy types – I counted at least 45 distinct varieties across the realms – ensures that encounters remain fresh throughout the journey. The weapon upgrade systems provide meaningful power progression without trivializing the challenge, and the runic attack combinations offer nearly endless customization. While I still believe the 2018 game achieved better balance in its core combat mechanics, Ragnarok's ambition in scaling both complexity and spectacle deserves recognition. It's a system that rewards persistence, adaptation, and occasionally, accepting that some deaths simply come with the territory when pushing against the boundaries of what action gaming can deliver.