Fifty hours into Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and my enthusiasm for exploring the apocalyptic Hyrule is only growing. I’m eager as ever to find secrets waiting in the game’s ruthless, beautiful world, and I can’t wait to find out how the story concludes. But I’m less thrilled with Breath of the Wild’s enemies, who are becoming more annoying by the day.
Playing the game, I’ve learned the best strategy is to avoid conflict altogether. If I see a group of enemies, I’ll go around them. If I’m ambushed by a gang of Stalmoblins, I’ll run away. Engaging enemies simply isn’t worth the hassle, because A) weapons and gear break easily, and B) the loot they leave behind is rarely good. But there are situations when conflict is unavoidable.
I’ll be in the middle of a climb, for example, only to be shot down by a Lizalfos’ perfectly placed arrow. Swimming across a river seems easy until a water Octorok has you in its sights. Those guys have impressive aim. It’s not like these enemies are difficult to defeat, but they’re persistent nuisances. They stick around like a gnat and always arrive at the worst possible time, like a downpour when you’re ascending a granite monolith.
It’s like the game is trying to wear down my resolve with these encounters; lately, it’s become a test of willpower—ugh, not these guys again—and I think I’m starting to crack. If I never run into an electric Lizalfos again, it’ll be too soon. I wish there was a way to turn enemies off, or at least make encounters much less frequent because they take a lot of fun out of exploration.
I don’t hate all enemies. The overworld bosses are a blast and they provide a reasonable challenge, offering decent loot when they eventually fall. They’re also very infrequent, so every encounter feels fresh, unlike the millionth Bokoblin I just killed the other day.
With one more Divine Beast to go, I’m not going to quit now. I can’t. That’s what the Stalkoblin would want.
We’ve all had our fair share of frustrating encounters, from treasure Octorok to fire Chuchu. Below is a list of five of the game’s most annoying characters.
What’s with these guys? Bokoblin are typically pretty easy to defeat. Just a few swipes and down they go. But the silver Bokoblin? Holy crap. They can take a beating.
Not only can they take a hit, but they can dish it out, too. If you run into a Bokoblin camp, the silver Bokoblin is the first one you want to kill; the other guys are just a distraction. If you’re not careful, they’ll kill you in one or two hits.
Nobody wants to get their butt whooped by a maniacal Bokoblin. Screw you, silver Bokoblin. Leave me alone.
All electric enemies in Breath of the Wild are annoying, but the electric Wizzrobe is objectively the worst. They prance around like evil fairies and dodge arrows like they’re Neo in The Matrix. And if they manage to hit you, chances are you’ll drop your weapons from being shocked.
Try to climb a tower with an electric Wizzrobe nearby and you’ll understand. They can go die a painful, agonizing death. I’m minding my own business over here and you can’t stop throwing your damn balls of electricity at me.
There’s nothing like running through central Hyrule’s languid pastures under a full moon. It would be a lot better, however, if players weren’t attacked by a swarm of Keese every five seconds. Keese are so, so easy to kill. But when all I want to do is avoid conflict, they have a way of pestering me like a needy child.
As annoying as Keese are, I have to admit that detonating a perfectly thrown bomb in the middle of a swarm is very satisfying. So, maybe I don’t really hate Keese swarms? Let’s call it a love/hate thing.
I’d rather fight a silver Lynel then have to deal with a water Octorok. It takes a single, well-placed arrow to kill one. Yet, I find myself trying to avoid them. When I do that, though, there’s a 200 percent chance I’ll get hit by their stupid, entirely predictable attack.
I don’t know where they learned to shoot, but I have a suspicion that all Octoroks in Breath of the Wild were trained by DC’s Deadshot. They simply never miss. I can run a serpentine pattern, hide behind a tree, drink a sneaky elixir, and they’ll still hit me square in the jaw. It’s impressive in a way, but mostly annoying when I’m gliding across the map, only to be shot out of mid-air to my doom.
Yiga footsoldiers were pretty cool at first. Early on, they’d disguise themselves as harmless NPCs, shout some b-movie dialog, and then attack. Now, they just appear out of thin air, and they’re relentless as hell.
If I’m running away, as is my first instinct when I see a group of enemies, Yiga footsoldiers refuse to give up. They’ll disappear, re-appear, shoot a few arrows, grunt, do some flips, and then do it all over again.
In particularly chaotic battles, Yiga footsoldiers can be frustrating to take down because they disappear and re-appear so often—and they often keep their distance. That’s a cool magic trick, but David Blaine did it better.
I’m at a point in the game where only the Lynel are tough to take down, so this isn’t about skill or difficulty. It’s just that encounters quickly become mundane and repetitive, and the enemies listed above can be particularly pesky.