Demonschool Review Examines A Stylish RPG That Struggles With Its Own Ambition

Demonschool review coverage arrived with expectations shaped by its Persona-like framing and its focus on campus life, demons, and tactical battles. Early previews positioned the game as a genre blend with potential reach, but the finished product shows a split between thoughtful mechanics and writing that rarely carries its weight.

Josh Broadwell’s review on Polygon underpins much of the reporting here, providing a close look at how the game’s narrative structure and character work fall short of its tactical ideas. His assessment outlines a project that aims high but fails to match the standard set by the series it models itself after.

Demonschool introduces a cast of students pulled into an unfolding crisis on a remote island campus. Faye, the lead character, belongs to a lineage of demon hunters and anchors the story’s apocalyptic prediction. The setup suggests room for tension, conflict, and personality-driven scenes, but the script rarely supports those possibilities. Characters orbit a cycle of gags and quips rather than meaningful interaction. Their dialogue often treats serious situations as setup for one-liners, which erodes tone and diminishes stakes. Attempts at humor appear in nearly every exchange, leaving little room for contrast or development. The result is a flat emotional register that undercuts the moments meant to deepen the cast.

The creature roster mirrors the same disconnect. Demons and bosses arrive as references, curios, or genre nods rather than threats woven into the story. Encounters often feel detached from the themes implied by the setting. The reliance on homage weakens impact, especially when designs lack the distinctiveness needed to stand on their own. A pile of televisions, a large crab, or variations of amorphous blobs do little to evoke fear or atmosphere. They function as obstacles in a tactical sequence, not manifestations of the world’s danger.

The game’s structure revolves around lead-chasing and object retrieval across limited locations. These sequences need stronger narrative framing to maintain momentum. When writing and character presence fail to support exploration, the pacing drags. Many side events focus on extended jokes or out-of-place remarks rather than insight into the setting or people in it. The script’s inconsistent logic adds to the issue. Scenes unfold with details that contradict earlier information, which reduces internal coherence. When characters ask questions the story already answered, or act without regard for prior context, the world loses credibility.

Companion events, which should develop relationships, often circle the same personality traits. Faye’s role tends to dominate exchanges, leaving other characters with few defining qualities. Moments of depth appear late and without buildup, offering too little to reframe earlier impressions. Across a full playthrough, change feels minimal.

Combat stands in sharp contrast to the narrative. The tactical system relies on limited action points shared across the team, pushing players to consider positioning, synergy, and timing. Characters bring unique mechanics that support combination strategies. When encounters rely on these fundamentals, the design shows careful planning. The grid-based movement, the interplay of abilities, and the option to rewind create a puzzle-like flow that rewards a clear turn sequence.

The difficulty curve, however, leans on restrictions that feel unnecessary. Movement limits, strict turn recommendations, and battle conditions create pressure without adding complexity. They often slow momentum, requiring precise execution rather than creative problem-solving. Bonuses tied to fast completions encourage perfect runs, yet the rewards are modest. As battles repeat, pacing becomes a concern. When the tactical layer demands tight optimization for marginal gain, fatigue sets in.

“By the time the plot started laboriously hauling itself forward, I wasn't any worse off for not having read several hours' worth of Demonschool's writing.” — Josh Broadwell

While a late patch improved some aspects before release, the core issues with writing and repetition remain. The gap between combat quality and story execution becomes more noticeable as hours pass. A second playthrough reveals how much text can be bypassed without losing context, which points to a script that rarely advances character or plot meaningfully. The atmosphere implied by the premise never fully materializes.

The contrast between ambition and delivery defines the overall impression of the game. Demonschool attempts to merge narrative-driven exploration with structured tactical encounters, but only the latter reaches a polished state. The writing undercuts emotional involvement, the characters lack dimension, and the world seldom feels lived in. The mechanical side shows the care missing from the script, yet it cannot compensate for the narrative gaps surrounding it.

Demonschool is available to play on PC (Steam).