What seems to be an abandoned mansion of perplexing contents, Stage 4 is our first all-interior level. Here, we'll see the stage architecture start to assume a more hostile attitude. We will also see one of the rare instances where the game's normally clear conveyance of room-by-room progression gets muddled. Stage 4's musical theme, "The Trick Manor," has the distinction of being the only other piece from SCV4 (counting "Simon Belmont's Theme") to appear in a future title (that being Circle of the Moon). "The Trick Manor" is actually two separate tracks: one that plays for the majority of the stage, and another that comes in around the tail end. The first half is rather novel in having a variety of tonal and non-tonal effects that function musically and have the presence of ambient noise; what is produced is a delightfully Halloweeny atmosphere of rattles and wiggles. The second half borrows a motif of the first (played upon an organ) for its unrepeated opener and proceeds to a repetitive string of anxious, incessant chords and an almost nonsensical woodwind melody flung out near the looping point. It's a nice complement to the weirdness that the stage delves into.
Two new enemies are introduced right away: the skeletal knight and the dryad. Skeletal knights, from CV3, are an improvement in SCV4 upon the normal skeleton if only because their method of attacking -- a single quick slash of their sword -- has more aggressiveness than that of the tossed bones. It still was an odd decision for Konami to let players duck under knights' swords, especially when the weapon at its lowest point is right on top of Simon's head. Dryads -- first showing up in Haunted Castle's stage 1 -- are humanoid creatures that sprout out of walls when players are at a certain distance away from them. Like some of SCV4's other monsters, there isn't a real challenge to dealing with the dryads; any threat they have is related to the surprise of their sudden emergence (and dryads, once they have emerged, can't do anything except make grabs at Mr. Belmont).
Stage 4 color- and texture-codes platforms -- those green bits in the screenshot above -- that flip about when they're landed upon from a jump or fall. It also provides an initial opportunity for players to understand these platforms' mechanics without fatal failure (making the lack of such features in the part of stage 1 with mechanically analogous platforms even harder to understand).
Hanging skeletons are another one of those Surprise! enemies, sprouting from walls in the background and swiping their hands about, an expression of joviality on their face that goes well beyond the usual eternal grin of skulls. Simon can crouch-walk under them; or, if players need a target to direct suppressed aggression towards, they can choose to attack. The skulls embedded in the wall, mechanisms or still-living deadheads, follow Simon's movement -- a decorative touch that specializes the setting's ambiance and reinforces Simon's physical presence.
The screenshot immediately above illustrates a part on the stage's second story where players must mindfully contend with isolated architecture. Simon is not a Mario or a Bill Rizer -- his body is weighted, heavy. There is a delay after he lands from a jump (especially if there's a height difference between the jumping and landing points). If you want to make a consecutive jump, this delay can be minimized only by a precise press of the jump button a split second after impact. Avoiding the pitfall here is a matter of being quick and conscious, making for a pleasant change of pace.
As was done for stage 2, I've included a fairly obscured background above from stage 4's third story, seen outside the lancet windows. Aside from the wonderful, grave rendering of the night sky, there also are those purple forms of uncertain distinction below. They could be the tops of leafless trees, considering the height of the view. They could also be a crisscrossing field of thorn-like spikes lining the roof of an adjacent structure, or protruding from the ground far below.
A sudden encounter with a skeleton knight near a ledge -- which, granted, would be better if ducking weren't a way to avoid the sword (a much later stage, the clock tower/level A, has a similar set up with greater tension, thanks to how you get to the knight). Let's take a moment to admire, or just acknowledge, the bricolage-like interior. I'm especially fond of the wooden beams near the top of the screenshot that give the surface a skeletal, ribbed look; the contrast of the finely sculpted stones and the untouched masses in the lower right; and, earlier on, the bright orange shutters set in the dark-stoned walls. Although the textures overall are not especially ruinous, one gets the feeling, by seeing all of these details, of an almost makeshift evolution of the building's interior, as if disparate bits and pieces have been added over the years to replace or go over older parts.
Puwexil, the stage's mid-boss, typifies a common critique of the game's bosses, which is that, provided one has a healthy lifebar and an upgraded whip, one can stand their ground and slug it out to victory with around half of their lifebar remaining -- or more, if the cross/boomerang subweapon has been picked up. Of course, the (willful) loss of health is a punishment, but the game is just not equipped to make that loss feel worrying. Puwexil's order of business is floating about in its room, as spectral skulls are wont to do, projecting a segmented tongue (making it a possible point of influence for the Man Eater monster in Aria of Sorrow and Order of Ecclesia), and making destructible debris rain from the ceiling that looks suspiciously like giant almonds.
With Puwexil out of the way, we're confronted with a situation that's worth talking about for a couple of reasons: it's a unique portion of level design, and it has played a large, almost single-handed part in perpetuating an opinion that CV4 is a "tech demo" in the most obtrusive sense of the term. Here, Simon ascends a staircase, and then has to latch onto a hook as the entire room rotates 90 degrees counterclockwise. When it stops, players drop to a platform and fend off, or avoid (less easy to do), Medusa heads that come from the left and right sides of the screen. As usual, this would be a more compelling situation were there stricter limits to Simon's offense (and if the platform were smaller), yet it still demands a decent level of rhythmic attention to be overcome -- unless you're a Super Speedrunner who's found the perfect place to let the whip droop. Soon, the Medusa heads cease, and the room rotates one last time (again 90 degrees counterclockwise), and has the player wait for a path of bricks to bridge itself from the left towards Simon, who then must swing from the hook -- without grazing the row of spikes below -- and land on it.
It's reasonable to criticize this portion for the way that it mismatchedly stands out as a detached set piece in a game that, overall, flows from one point to the next; and also for the fact that hanging onto a hook and waiting for a room to show off its ability to rotate isn't very exciting. Once these criticisms have been voiced, though, we can also admit that the set piece is over in less than a couple of minutes, and, in its uniqueness, can't be turned into an extended criticism of the game as a whole. The "tech demo" critique is one that, I think, can be much more aptly applied to a Castlevania game such as a Bloodlines (and I'll aim to show this in the respective articles).
We exit the rotating room from the left, but drop down into the next chamber as we would if we were exiting from the right. If you're worried about this becoming a trend, don't be (and if you want to witness a game that suffers all over from mindless stage progression, see Dracula X). This chamber -- a barrel vault made into an entire unit and given the power to rotate one way and the other -- is, realistically, the last time the label of "tech demo," applied with a sneer, can be put on CV4. If there's annoyance from the background's lack of an interactive function, and its heavy toll on the framerate, one can perhaps appreciate that they don't have to wait around for anything to try to impress a 1991-audience. We can walk ahead at our own pace, just making sure to avoid skeletons that burst and fall from the ceiling. Here is also where the second part of "The Trick Manor" begins to play. In my opinion, this is a charming slice of the game, if only because of course the room is the way it is simply due to someone at Konami wanting to show off that special effect.
Block 4-4, stage 4's conclusive block, is a sort of disheveled maze set inside a cavernous environment. Other than a bat or two fluttering near the start, and several bone pillars at the end, this place is monster-free. To reach the boss, players navigate a mixture of rising platforms and static architectural clumps. The ideal path is, in fact, very brief -- a few struts, crouch-walks, and jumps away -- but the seeming variety of routes can prompt novices to wander. 4-4's main threat is crushing adventurers between rising platforms and ceilings, a couple of which are lined with spikes. You'll have to get an idea of how structures' shapes converge to know when and where it's safe to move. Continuing the stage's trend of oddness, this block houses a shaft that, for whatever reason, infinitely loops until it is exited from (you can see the zone in question here; it's the vertical stretch with no apparent top or bottom). I think it would've been nice if this block were longer; something is lost between the hugeness of the backdrop and the interactive space's smallness.
Taking the correct path leads us to a snippet that references a feature of Castlevania's second stage: a trio of spiked mechanisms moving up and down. It's nothing that a modicum of patience can't solve. Past this, players are confronted by a stepped mass of stonework that rises towards a toothy ceiling and reappears below to continue the pattern. Surviving this ascent means boarding the mass as soon as it's accessible and ceaselessly walking right. Now, there is nowhere to go but up a small series of alternating staircases, since the mass we boarded sets itself up as a permanent wall once we've disembarked. Three bone pillars guard the way -- although, as I suspect readers will intuit, these fellows come across as space-fillers, and not as an unassumingly legitimate pre-boss barrier. Note that the background, originally scaly rocks of green, has transformed into an enormous brick wall ventilated by massive arches; and outside is a still pine forest stretching to the horizon.
The music fades out, the backdrop dims to pure black, and two platforms that float up and down appear, setting the stage for stage 4's boss, Koranot. Although it's a better effort by the developers when compared to prior bosses, it's not a total success. Koranot starts out as a towering golem whose size diminishes and walking speed increases as it takes damage. Its methods of attacking, as it patrols the floor, are tossing bricks at the player and jumping up and down to make a hail of stones (with safe spots in between) drop from above. There is, for sure, an immediacy and activity to this fight that's been missing in the others. What it lacks, though, is a fitting usage of the space that's been given. The platforms are a weird decision: Koranot doesn't advance far enough to the left or right to make them structural safe-havens (most mysterious is the right platform, considering that Koranot can't be gotten past without the player taking damage). The fight with Koranot, as it is and as it could be, is similar to the fight with CV3's cyclops; but that fight had risks associated with the space and player's actions. The cyclops patrolled the entirety of its room, and getting in position to hit its weak spot -- its head -- meant exposing oneself to its erratic behavior. It certainly wasn't a highlight of that game's bosses, leaning to the side of attritional design, yet it had an element of danger that the fight against Koranot, with the inexplicable platforms and overly-safe left side of the screen, doesn't have.
I may as well say right here that, relative improvements aside, CV4's bosses don't come into their own until the late part of the game. So be prepared!
Next up is stage 5 -- a short, sodden path that will lead Simon into the castle, and whose main purpose is atmospheric.
