Hunt the Night

Hunt the Night is a top-down action RPG set in a dark fantasy world where an eternal night has unleashed monstrous horrors upon humanity, trapped in a cyclical battle between humans and beasts. Players control a skilled huntress who wields melee and ranged weapons, dodges deadly attacks, solves puzzles, and explores shadowy realms to uncover vague lore and break the unending darkness, blending retro 2D visuals with horror narrative elements.

Hunt the Night: Review

Introduction

In the shadowed annals of indie gaming, where pixelated worlds collide with unrelenting horror, Hunt the Night emerges as a beacon of defiant craftsmanship—a retro-styled action-adventure that dares to blend the whimsical exploration of classic The Legend of Zelda titles with the visceral, soul-crushing intensity of FromSoftware’s Bloodborne. Released in April 2023 by Spanish indie studio Moonlight Games and published by DANGEN Entertainment, this game isn’t just a nostalgic throwback; it’s a haunting elegy to cycles of destruction and fragile hope, set in a world where daylight is a fleeting mercy and the encroaching Night devours all. As a game historian, I’ve traced the evolution of 2D action-RPGs from the labyrinthine dungeons of Castlevania to the atmospheric dread of modern Metroidvanias, and Hunt the Night carves its niche as a bold, if imperfect, fusion of these lineages. My thesis: While its punishing difficulty and occasional narrative opacity may alienate casual explorers, Hunt the Night masterfully captures the essence of gothic horror in pixel form, delivering a tight, rewarding experience that elevates indie souls-likes into a realm of artistic maturity.

Development History & Context

Moonlight Games, a small studio hailing from Jaén, Spain, entered the scene as a fresh voice in the indie landscape with Hunt the Night, marking their debut title. Founded by creative director and lead designer Daniel Jesús Burgos Garrido, the team—comprising around 67 developers, including programmers like Jose Lara Gómez and Paulo Ferreira de Oliveira, and pixel artists such as Alcopop and Irene Pulido Hermoso—drew from a collective passion for retro aesthetics and hardcore gameplay. The project’s origins trace back to a successful Kickstarter campaign launched on April 5, 2019, which surpassed its funding goal in under ten days, signaling early community enthusiasm for a game promising “a mixture of classic gems such as The Legend of Zelda, Secret of Mana, or Terranigma with dark fantasy hardcore games like Bloodborne or Dark Souls.” This vision was realized using Unity, a engine well-suited for 2D pixel art projects, allowing the team to focus on intricate animations and environmental storytelling without the bloat of more demanding tech.

Technological constraints played a pivotal role, as the studio operated on a shoestring budget typical of crowdfunded indies in the late 2010s and early 2020s. Pixel art, a deliberate choice to evoke 16-bit era nostalgia, mitigated the need for high-fidelity 3D modeling, enabling detailed horrors like blinking-eyed cathedrals and grotesque monsters to be handcrafted by artists including Carlos Pérez Valenzuela for effects and animations. The soundtrack, a standout feature, was composed by legendary Secret of Mana creator Hiroki Kikuta alongside Jesús Carson, blending orchestral swells with ambient dread— a luxury afforded by crowdfunding backers who unlocked such collaborations.

At the time of its 2023 release, the gaming landscape was saturated with souls-like iterations, from 3D behemoths like Elden Ring to 2D homages like Hollow Knight and Blasphemous. Hunt the Night arrived amid a boom in pixel-art indies (e.g., Dead Cells, Hades), but its top-down perspective and horror-fantasy hybrid stood out in a market favoring either pure Metroidvanias or ultra-precise roguelites. Delays from its initial 2021 target—stemming from the global pandemic’s impact on remote indie teams—polished the game into a concise 10-15 hour experience, avoiding scope creep that plagues many Kickstarters. Ultimately, Moonlight’s focus on “personality and something to say,” as Burgos Garrido noted, positioned Hunt the Night as a thoughtful counterpoint to the era’s blockbuster fatigue, emphasizing intimate, player-driven horror over expansive open worlds.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Hunt the Night‘s narrative unfolds as a tragic symphony of inevitability, rooted in the cyclical torment of Medhram—a fantasy realm where humanity’s dominion over the day has always been a precarious illusion shattered by the Night’s monstrous incursions. The plot centers on Vesper Blackbone, a virtuous yet burdened Stalker, daughter of a traitor whose blood oath once sealed the Night away for a thousand years of perpetual daylight. With the Seal now fractured, the Night reawakens, plunging Medhram into encroaching shadows that corrupt the land, its people, and even Vesper’s psyche. As Vesper quests to reclaim the Seal’s shards from sprawling dungeons—ancient cathedrals, forsaken libraries, and floating ruins—she grapples with her heritage, forging an uneasy alliance with Umbra, her shadowy doppelganger manifested from inner darkness. This duo dynamic drives the story’s emotional core: Umbra isn’t merely a gameplay tool for puzzles and traversal but a narrative foil, whispering temptations of power and embodying the theme of Dark Is Not Evil. Their dialogues, sparse yet poignant, reveal Vesper’s internal schism—conversations laced with regret, as in Umbra’s taunts about Vesper’s “weak-minded” resistance to the Night’s allure.

Thematically, the game delves into profound existential dread, echoing Lovecraftian cosmic horror through motifs of futile cycles and encroaching oblivion. Humanity’s nine ages of rebuilding after each Night’s annihilation underscore resilience’s fragility; Stalkers, who harness darkness to combat it, symbolize the double-edged sword of survival—harnessing the abyss to stave off extinction, yet risking corruption. Crow feathers, relics allowing knowledge transmission across cycles (invented by the legendary Stalker Malakian), serve as lore vessels, unveiling tragic backstories: fallen kingdoms, blood oaths, and experiments in facilities tied to Vesper’s lineage. Dialogue is intentionally vague, delivered through environmental notes, NPC encounters (e.g., ghostly Stalkers offering cryptic guidance), and codex entries, fostering immersion over exposition. This subtlety amplifies themes of isolation and inherited sin—Vesper’s journey mirrors Bloodborne‘s descent into madness, where victory might mean becoming the monster.

Yet, the narrative’s depth is uneven. While boss encounters tie into lore (e.g., ancient horrors representing Night’s phases), the overarching plot occasionally feels disjointed, with side elements like lost books or well-dwelling voices providing flavorful diversions but lacking resolution. The dual endings—Vesper sealing the Night (good) or succumbing to it, leading an undead army (bad, evoking And Then John Was a Zombie)—hinge on a climactic choice, reinforcing agency amid predestination. Screenplay credits to Burgos Garrido and Francisco Hermoso Pulido ensure a cohesive, if understated, tale that prioritizes atmospheric tragedy over bombastic reveals, making Hunt the Night a meditative horror narrative in indie guise.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

At its core, Hunt the Night thrives on a fluid, punishing gameplay loop: explore foreboding dungeons, engage in rhythmic combat against grotesque foes, solve environmental puzzles, and upgrade Vesper’s arsenal to tackle escalating challenges. Progression is semi-linear, blending Zelda-esque overworld navigation with Metroidvania gates unlocked by abilities like Umbra’s teleportation or dashing across voids. Players roam Medhram’s map—sans in-game compass, encouraging note-taking—for Seal shards, hunts, and secrets, with fast-travel shrines mitigating backtracking. Side activities, like optional monster hunts at Crow’s Nest (tracking beasts via screenshots for health/dark energy upgrades), add replayability, though their vagueness can frustrate.

Combat is the game’s pulsating heart, a masterful deconstruction of souls-like tenets in 2D: direct control demands precision, with melee weapons (swords like “Promise,” spears, daggers, lacerators) for close-quarters combos and ranged firearms (pistol, shotgun, crossbow) for interrupts. Ammo scarcity—replenished by every third melee hit—forces hybrid playstyles: slash to reload, dash to evade, then snipe. Dark powers (e.g., Dark Grasp pulling enemies close, Psychic Link for homing bolts, Life Drain via Crimson Edge) add strategic depth, powered by a regenerating energy bar. Boss fights elevate this to ballet-like intensity: learn patterns (e.g., a sadistic second boss’s malicious edges), exploit phases, and adapt builds via customizable upgrades—critical damage, poison, lifesteal—funded by sanguine vials, crow feathers, moonstones, and noctilium. UI is minimalist and non-intrusive, with a clean HUD displaying health, ammo, and energy; however, the lack of a map exacerbates navigation woes, and invisible enemies (cued by subtle visuals) demand auditory vigilance.

Innovations shine in Umbra’s puzzle integration—teleporting her to switches or distant platforms—and the hunt system, rewarding exploration with tangible progression. Flaws emerge in difficulty spikes: early areas build skill, but midgame sections (e.g., chore-like navigation in corrupted zones) and late-game sadism (instant-kill attacks) feel unbalanced, turning challenge into fatigue. At 10-15 hours, it’s concise yet replayable via New Game+ and achievements, though money often becomes “for nothing” post-final dungeon. Overall, mechanics cohere into an addictive loop, rewarding mastery but punishing the uninitiated.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Medhram’s world-building is a tapestry of decay and defiance, where every crumbling ruin whispers of humanity’s hubris. From Deep Ravenford’s haunted mansions—blood-soaked carriages, eye-covered cathedrals—to lost kingdoms and floating cities, environments evoke a dying ecosystem: villages overrun by tentacles and viscera, laboratories hinting at forbidden experiments. Lore permeates subtly—feathers detailing Stalkers’ oaths, paintings revealing puzzle codes—crafting an abyss-brink abyss without overt hand-holding. Atmosphere builds dread through isolation: dim lighting, fog-shrouded paths, and the constant threat of Night’s expansion, making respite (e.g., Crow’s Nest hubs) feel earned.

Visually, the 2D pixel art is exquisite, marrying 16-bit charm with gothic grotesquerie. Monsters—zombies, wolves, invisible mantises—boast fluid animations and Lovecraftian flair (blinking masses, tentacled horrors), while Vesper’s sprite exudes poised lethality. Cinematic portraits and concept art by Sandra María Marcela Gómez Guillén add emotional weight, though NPC designs occasionally feel rounded and anachronistic amid the decay. Effects like red damage flashes and spread shots enhance dynamism, all rendered in Unity for smooth performance.

Sound design amplifies immersion: Hiroki Kikuta’s score adapts seamlessly—orchestral terror for bosses, choral chants for cathedrals, ambient rattles for tension—paired with punchy SFX (sword clashes, gunshots). Headphones are essential; audio cues telegraph attacks, turning combat into a sensory symphony. Together, these elements forge a cohesive experience: art and sound not just decorate but propel the horror, making Medhram a living nightmare.

Reception & Legacy

Upon launch, Hunt the Night garnered solid acclaim, averaging 79% from 31 critics on MobyGames and 80 on Metacritic, ranking #1,813 among Windows titles. Praises centered on its “fluid but focused” combat (Hey Poor Player, 90%), “gorgeous art style” (God is a Geek, 80%), and “haunting soundtrack” (Thumb Culture, 100%), with outlets like COGconnected hailing it as a “love letter to 16-bit action-adventures.” Commercially, it sold modestly on Steam and GOG at $11.99-$19.99, bolstered by Kickstarter backers and indie buzz, though its PC exclusivity (consoles followed later) limited reach. User scores echo positivity (8.1 on Metacritic), with fans lauding replayability, but criticisms targeted frustration—difficulty spikes (TheSixthAxis, 70%), confusing exploration (TechRaptor, 70%), and uneven storytelling (RPGFan, 80%).

Over time, its reputation has solidified as a cult indie gem, evolving from “promising but flawed” (WayTooManyGames, 7.5) to a benchmark for 2D souls-likes. Post-launch patches addressed minor issues like translations, enhancing accessibility. Influentially, it inspired peers like Thymesia in blending Zelda puzzles with Bloodborne dread, contributing to the pixel-art horror resurgence (e.g., Signalis). For Moonlight Games, it’s a foundation—teasing future projects—while broadening Spanish indies’ global footprint alongside Blasphemous. In history, it joins Hyper Light Drifter as a concise, atmospheric innovator, proving small teams can rival AAA in emotional depth.

Conclusion

Hunt the Night is a triumph of indie ambition: a pixelated descent into horror that weaves tight combat, evocative world-building, and thematic resonance into a 10-15 hour odyssey of light versus abyss. Its strengths—fluid mechanics, stunning visuals, and Kikuta’s score—outshine flaws like navigation ambiguity and punishing spikes, offering rewarding mastery for souls-like veterans. As a historian, I place it firmly in video game canon as a pivotal 2020s indie, bridging retro nostalgia with modern grit and influencing the next wave of 2D dark fantasies. Verdict: Essential for fans of challenging, atmospheric action-RPGs—8.5/10, a hunt worth enduring.