Kingdom Come IIは、Metaverse 87/100で批評家の称賛を得ています
Kingdom Come：Deliverance IIは、リリースに先立って圧倒的に肯定的なレビューを受けています。 Metacriticはゲームを印象的な87で獲得し、広範な批判的な称賛を反映しています。
レビュアーは、続編が前任者を大幅に上回ることに普遍的に同意します。魅力的なコンテンツと複雑に接続されたゲームプレイシステムに満ちた豊かな没入型のオープンワールドエクスペリエンスを提供します。重要なことに、オリジナルを定義した挑戦的なゲームプレイを保持しながら、新しいプレーヤーにとってより大きなアクセシビリティを実現します。
洗練された戦闘システムは、例外的なストーリーテリングとともに、ハイライトとして頻繁に引用されます。批評家は、記憶に残るキャラクター、驚くべき陰謀のねじれ、そして全体的な感情的な深さを称賛しました。サイドクエストも高い評価を得ており、ウィッチャー3の称賛されたミッションと比較して比較されました。
前任者の発売から大幅に改善されましたが、ゲームには欠陥がないわけではありません。マイナーな視覚グリッチは、最も一般的に報告されている技術的な問題でした。
メインストーリーの完了は40〜60時間かかると推定されており、徹底的な調査にはかなり長い時間が必要です。このかなりのプレイタイムは、ゲームの魅力的な雰囲気の証と見なされます。
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Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The wind howled across the shattered plains of Eldryth, carrying with it the scent of ash and forgotten prayers. Once, this land had bloomed beneath twin suns—golden and silver—cradled in the arms of the sky. Now, only two embers remained: one buried deep in the heart of the Obsidian Spire, the other flickering faintly in the chest of a girl who did not know her name.
She awoke beneath a sky split in two.
One half burned crimson, the other wept silver mist. The earth cracked like old parchment, and from the fissures rose whispers—voices not of men, nor beasts, but of memory itself. Her fingers curled around a shard of obsidian, warm to the touch, humming with a rhythm that matched her pulse.
She didn’t remember how she got here. She remembered nothing—not her mother’s lullaby, not the sound of her first breath, not even the shape of her face in the still pools of long-dead lakes.
Only the ember.
And the dream.
“When the twins fall, the world will wake,” the dream whispered. “But not as it was. Not as it should be.”
She sat up. The shard pulsed. Her reflection shimmered within it—not a face, but a storm: a woman with hair like flame and eyes like dying stars.
“You’re not real,” she said, voice cracked from disuse.
But the reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“I am you. I am what was lost. I am what was never meant to be found.”
She stumbled to her feet, wind tearing at her tattered cloak—the color of dust and midnight. Around her, ruins of a cathedral rose from the earth, its spires fused with bone and blackened iron. The name carved into its fallen arch read: Aetherion.
Her hand trembled as she touched the stone. A vision tore through her:
A war not of swords, but of light.
Two beings—twin stars forged in fire—clashing in the sky. One wore the face of a god, the other… a child.
She gasped.
And the ember screamed.
From the east, a sound like a thousand bells made of glass. A procession of shadows moved across the horizon—hooded figures with eyes of ash, marching in silence. Their chants were not in any tongue, but in absence. In silence.
She turned to flee—then stopped.
Because behind her, in the west, a new light rose.
Not silver. Not gold.
Blue.
And from it stepped a man—tall, scarred, wearing armor of woven wind and memory. In his hand, a sword without a blade. Its hilt bore the same mark as the shard in her palm.
“Eira,” he said, voice like wind over graves. “You’ve come at last.”
She stepped back. “Who are you?”
He looked at her, and for the first time, his face cracked—just slightly.
“I was your father,” he said. “And I thought I’d buried you with the world.”
The ground trembled. The sky split again.
And from the ember in her hand, a voice rose—not hers, not his.
“The first ember dies. The second awakens. The war begins.”
To Be Continued in Part 2: "The Blood of the Twin Suns"
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