As you arrive in Anor Londo you’re treated to one of the most beautiful scenes in Dark Souls. The camera pulls back and shows off the city that awaits you. It’s a city of opulence, pristine and knightly, with towering halls guarded by equally towering knights. Aesthetically, it’s unlike any other area in the game. Forget the cavernous stretches of Blighttown or Sen’s Fortress. Forget the tinges of green throughout Undead Parish. Anor Londo is gold. It gleams and glistens, home to exquisite architectural touches and spiral staircases fit for kings.

In a game where you spend so much of your time warding off demons of the dark, Anor Londo is a jarring aesthetic u-turn. It’s bathed in sunlight and the scope of this world gives you a chance to breathe. Still, you traverse this city with appropriate caution. By now, you’ve learnt to be prudent; to be patient. One by one, you vanquish the gigantic knights. One by one, you deal with the gargoyles. And so you get to grips with Anor Londo’s obstacles. You discover the bonfires, you filch the twinkling treasures. The finish line to the map is in sight. All that’s left? The boss battle. It’s here Messrs. Ornstein and Smough take centre stage.

The boss fights in Dark Souls can range from manageable to downright infuriating, depending on your style of play. A mage might find the giant wolf Sif a tricky proposition. A melee fighter will likely fare better. A player who relies on being fast, rather than brutal, could find the Four Kings a slog. Personally, no fight was as gruelling as my slugfest against Ornstein and Smough. In its entire runtime, there is no Dark Souls fight that proved as taxing. The previous article in this series detailed my first thirty-five hours with the game. It was a congratulatory piece to the developers, but in some way, it was a congratulatory piece to me. Well done, I thought. You’ve made it through the game’s opening stanza. You’ve lived to tell the tale. Yet it now stands as an artefact; a testament to my blissful ignorance of the perils that pad out the middle stretches of the game. For once Ornstein and Smough were in my sights, I was gripped by a masochistic urge to succeed, no matter the thousand deaths incurred at their collective hand. And so the hours stacked up.

At first, I went into the fight laughably under-equipped (oh the joy of hindsight). I had five standard Estus flasks (a form of health replenishment) and a lightning spear that, while effective against Smough, barely dented Ornstein. I was quickly killed, each and every time. Resigned to leaving Anor Londo in search of upgrades, I discovered the beauty of the Fire Keeper Soul, a soul that upgrades the health replenished by each Estus flask.

But it was only the first step in a long line of necessary class improvements. With Smough in my sights, the lithe, fleet-footed Ornstein would simply stab me from the side. While one is slow and hits with might (Smough), the other is fast, yet equally deadly (Ornstein). As foes, they are utter opposites. And they form an awesome duo.

I returned to an early section of the game and secured enough humanity to kindle the Anor Londo bonfire, granting me ten Estus flasks as opposed to five. I felt I was ready, and equipped the spear that could decimate Smough. I only had to avoid Ornstein.

Smough, it should be noted, is an ogre that wields a giant club. Like any hulking, lumbering boss in Dark Souls, he possesses just enough dexterity to be a pain. I whittled his health down to zero and watched in horror as Ornstein absorbed his fallen comrade’s power. Now Ornstein was not only Usain Bolt’s nemesis at the 100 metre sprint, he was also wielding a club that ironmen would struggle to lift.

I debated finding a companion to help me. Playing the game online and enlisting the help of fellow gamers was impossible. I was determined to finish the game solo. But perhaps I could summon a phantom? The idea of keeping phantom Solaire at my side and battling Ornstein and Smough with even odds kept me going through the Depths as I farmed rats for the needed humanity. But upon my return, a summon sign did not appear.

A quick scour of the internet revealed the answer. You see, while I had concentrated on being strong, healthy and a titan of endurance, there are some players who focus on a stat called “faith” and are rewarded with a helping hand in later sections of the game. As ever, Dark Souls was a step ahead of me. As ever, Dark Souls had failed to explain just what the ramifications of my actions were.

I would go it alone, I decided. And I would not stop until I prevailed. After all, I had another article to write, and half the game to complete. Did I succeed? Yes. I persevered, keeping Ornstein in my sights. Little by little, the athletic half of the duo suffered at hand of my lightning spear. Bit by bit his health dwindled. Finally, he died. I watched as Smough rose, surging with Ornstein’s power. How did I succeed? It was a combination of sheer luck and patience. I kept an obstacle between me and Smough and waited for a chance to pounce. It sure wasn’t pretty.

From that point onwards, I was never afraid of fighting more than one enemy at once. And it was a fight that refocused my efforts. I entered the subsequent levels with better equipment and a hunger to succeed. The Ornstein and Smough fight saw me level my character up at least ten times. Unlike almost any other game I’ve played, Dark Souls manages to keep you constantly guessing – and constantly learning too. The battle stood as a eureka moment. I had passed what I saw as the ultimate test. I was equipped, levelled, and ready to overcome the difficulty spike presented by the game’s final levels.

I’ve since finished the game. With a guide in hand, I navigated the fiery depths of the Demon Ruins. I conquered the Four Kings. I evaded Bed of Chaos and brought about his undoing, and took the time to craft a divine weapon against Gravelord Nito and his undead minions.

With the final boss battle in sight, I knew that my time with the game was drawing to a close. After all, I’ve almost never replayed a game twice. My favourite game of 2011 (before I discovered From Software’s gem), Batman: Arkham City, was completed once, then placed carefully back in its box. The chilling survival horror game from EA, Dead Space 2, excited and enticed, but it was never played again. Vanquish, a game I awarded a perfect score to in 2010, was perfect once, not twice.

When the credits rolled on my Dark Souls adventure, the screen faded, then returned to life. A familiar cutscene began to play. Dark Souls was beginning again; yet this time with my equipment intact. The enemies would be tougher. The souls gained from slaying them would be greater. I laughed at the sadistic brilliance of it all. I’ll just play for a little bit, I told myself.

Five hours later I was knee-deep in the game, exploring Blighttown with renewed interest.

Is Dark Souls a game you can ever put down? I’m not entirely sure. You can gorge on the sound of a sword piercing flesh, or take delight in the meaty thump of a shield meeting the blade of a spear. The concussive solidity of the fights are brilliant. The seemingly endless combinations you can employ to succeed are dizzying. And that’s Dark Souls‘ greatest strength. There’s always a way of winning. It doesn’t have to pretty. It’s a game of the highest order; engineered to be your companion, your friend and your destroyer.

It’s ironic so much of Dark Souls centres on bonfires, because it’s proved to be the bonfire of my vanities. I loaded the game up for the first time thinking I could cheat it. I believed — with what seems utter ignorance now — that the internet would provide a quick fix. But once I gave up on the idea of an easy ride, I was treated to the most thrilling ride of all: a game that rewards patience and careful progress. It’s a visual and sonic feast — but it’s also a thought-provoking game. Call it an RPG. Call it an action-adventure; it’s simply a testament to the power our medium holds, and the advantages it has over other rival, contemporary forms of entertainment.

It took me 93 hours to beat the game once. I predict it’ll take half the time to beat it a second time. As for the third? Well, I’ll tell you when I get there.