There are two wolves inside me – Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Persona – so it’s demanding for me not to howl as gangs of ’90s high schoolers kick their demon tails between pop quizzes and making out. The way Demonschool combines an venerable school apocalyptic feel with tactical combat brings out the beast. I devoured it in a matter of days, and it did something no other RPG had ever done before: it made me fall in love with the isometric grid.
Demon School operates on an explore, talk, and fight loop: engaging with the main plot moves the day forward from morning, evening, and then into night, usually with a battle separating each segment. As the days and weeks pass, the inhabitants and activities of the island change. There’s almost always a fresh NPC to talk to, or a party member begging you to take them to karaoke to improve your friendship meter (i.e. your prospects for a future deal).
Exploring the island between each main mission does to yours for building a comprehensive narrative in which conversations with the same islanders are enriched with a juicy story; a man who remembers the ever-decreasing number of his children, an venerable woman claiming that every man is her husband, a temple that becomes more and more chatty the more I visit it. Their often fresh dialogue had me running to every corner to make sure I was catching everything.
It’s worth noting that there is a lot of text (no voice-over) and a distinct lack of any text log. It was unnerving as I mindlessly continued the dialogue with my eyes glazed over (listen, we’ve all been there) only to realize that I hadn’t actually absorbed any of it and had no way to go back and see what was said.
But when my eyes was works, it’s this great supplemental text that really fleshes out Demonschool’s story beyond a setup that doesn’t add much fresh. Apocalypse; demons; As above, so below; you know the drill. But thanks to witty dialogue (including hits that had me giggling like “Faye? More like Gaye.” Okay, the girl I kissed said that) and an incredibly likable cast of characters, I didn’t really mind it.
Go back to hell
And Demonschool boasts a huge lineup. A total of 15 playable demon hunters and plenty of returning side characters, such as the gangster Antoni, who I had a huge fondness for before the credits rolled. Not all hunters shine equally, which is an unfortunate consequence of such a huge team. For example, dog lover Mercy is one of the first people to join the gang, but it felt like Necrosoft wasn’t quite sure what to do with her narratively and mechanically.
On the other hand, I loved the slightly downtrodden Goths (though don’t let her know I called her that) Namako and thick-skinned Destin, the first two teammates to join Faye. Later additions like sassy rival Kestrel and certified muscle mama Ti prove that writing and spritework can make these characters shine even without so much screen time – a slight elimination of the cast would have strengthened their personalities and the story as a whole.
However, having a whole heap of hunters makes Demonschool’s battles open to experimentation, and there’s basically nothing I don’t love about this game’s tactics system. Before we even get to the meat of the combat, the way the world warps and shifts into a grid-based domain is simply gorgeous, with Necrosoft sprinkling in 3D cutscenes that stand out against the equally stunning 2D graphics of the rest of the game.
Faye can take up to three friends with her, and the team shares the pool of action points. The more often a character is used, the more AP is consumed. There needs to be a balance to make sure everyone plays their part and get the most juice out of the round.
Team members fall into roughly four categories: standard damage-dealing brawlers, phasers who can cut through enemy lines and come out the other side, healers who keep everyone supercharged, and people with unique character like Henk, who can literally drop school desks on demons. I like Henk.
The real beauty of Demonschool’s combat system is the way it is divided into planning and action phases. With the former, it almost feels like I’m cheating at chess, maneuvering step by step to see the consequences of my actions before they happen. I can backtrack, shuffle and duck until I kick and punch as many demon scum as I can. Once I have a strategy to my liking, I can press a button and immediately see the whole thing play out, like winding up a toy car and then letting it rip through the laminate.
Watching each turn is like a miniature show – I never get tired of it. Cutting through entire groups of demons in just a few moves and watching pools of poison delicate up the screen, explosions vaporizing the demons in seas of red, pixelated mist, every time it was like reaching the final piece of a 1,000-piece puzzle.
That’s basically what battles in Demonschool are all about: a series of complicated puzzles. I can make things a little easier by using a huge number of skills – techniques that can, for example, stun demons, counter their attacks, and even cure status effects like fire that would otherwise cause my HP to drop.
Unlocking more meant I was constantly evolving in the way I thought about each encounter. I gave Kestrel – traditionally a phaser – an ability that replaced her phasing abilities with an X-shaped attack that flew out of the target and gave her an attack boost. She melted he grouped the demons in a way that no straight or diagonal attack could. It was amazing.
My childlike joy of trying to make as many things explode as possible was somewhat tempered by the stability issues that became more constant as I neared the end. About two-thirds of my 55-hour playthrough took place on my Steam Deck, but I ended up having to stream the game to it from my computer instead. Despite its Demonschool Verified status, the handheld does not tolerate multiple visual effects appearing on the screen at once, causing the game to freeze completely. I also occasionally had it boot back to the title screen without warning – something that happened on both desktop and Steam – which proved a bit of a killer a few times.
Demon School also suffered from weird narrative threads: I had both a future party member and a plot point spoiled for me by two different friendship quests that were available to me before their respective beats were revealed to me in the main story. After these experiences, the game became less polished and sloppy, and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t ruin the good atmosphere I had for the first 20 hours. Coupled with some general visual bugs and systems that felt a bit obtuse at times – I would have liked more detailed tutorials on mechanics like skills and relationships – I felt it took me out of the whole experience after Faye and the group did such a good job of drawing me in.
Ultimately, it’s something that can be patched in a way that the essence of a great strategy RPG – fighting the charm of “one more turn” of having characters I want to talk to forever – probably isn’t possible. If it wasn’t obvious enough, Demon School wins the latter. I know for sure that in the near future I will dream in isometric planes.
