This review contains segmented spoilers. You should be able to read the bulk of my thoughts and opinions on the game without being spoiled. I just want people to see what I think without immediately turning them away because of a spoiler warning. Spoilers will be forecasted and clearly marked, you have been warned. This review is also looooong, primarily because of the spoilery part, if you want the tldr, then all I can say it's really good. It's beautiful, and makes strides over BoFIII in some areas while fumbling ever so slightly in others. Play it right now.
Breath of Fire IV is an odd game. An emotionally resonant one, at least for me. A game that I love despite its oddities - despite its admittedly abrupt endings, and how for every stride it makes over BoFIII, it takes one step back. It has an undeniable string of small issues, maybe because it was rushed towards the end, or the devs had the desire for a slightly different take on a Breath of Fire game, possibly even both, and I see it often ranked lower than III as a result. I, however, adore Breath of Fire IV both for what it accomplishes and its unfulfilled potential. It's a game about opposing ideologies, Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, both from a narrative and general game sense, with the result feeling like a natural progression from its predecessors, but also as if it's an alternate universe successor to Breath of Fire II. Despite this, Breath of Fire IV emerges as an all-time great JRPG, and, in my opinion, the best in the series.
Getting the good (and in some cases obvious) out of the way, the visuals are gorgeous, possibly some of the best sprite art and animation I've ever seen in a video game. It's all so fluid, vibrant, detailed, and expressive, moreso than the Breath of Fire norm. The music alternates between being ethereal and surreal, and traditional, classical Chinese folk music (I don't know if there's a proper name or genre for this) accentuated by its flutes, erhus, and various other wind, brass, and string instruments. Both styles compliment the game's main theme and world excellently. Sound design is extra satisfying, too. From the menu blips, item and minigame jingles, the sound of dust kicking up behind characters' feet as they run through the sand. It helps that the user interface has this really comfy, rustic feel to it - the whole game feels so inviting thanks to all of this.
The world and story are more grounded, more grim, more engrossing - forgoing the traditional, Breath of Fire happy-go-lucky yet at times grim story about saving the world and instead telling a tale of a millennium old empire, its deified first emperor, its decline in current times, the poverty and death sown by its fruitless, persistent pursuits in conquest... It's a world that feels less lived in or interconnected than III's, yes, but that's the whole point - villages, cities and colonies are far apart, seperated by God-knows how much inhabitable desert. Many of which are war torn, in ruins, or totally rural. It's rare for an "evil empire" in a jrpg to have such a large influence on its world, being so omnipresent, yet never blatant about it - Breath of Fire IV really nails the post-war, hostile, blemished world vibe.
A much-needed improvement over III is how party members' usability and character building are handled. Every party member has their own uses and are all interchangeable in battle, with every character capable of fulfilling several roles. Nina's probably the only exception, excelling as a mage, but she's leaps and bounds more useful than her BoFIII counterpart. You can make Ershin an aggro-tank, a mage-tank or an all-arounder, for example. Scias and Ursula are equally capable of becoming either fast, hard-hitting mages or physical damage dealers as well, and the list goes on. In III, you'd generally just use Ryu, Momo, Peco and Rei interchangeably for their better base growths and the fact that non-active party members don't gain experience, but in IV I found myself constantly alternating between characters mid-battle to either set up combo chains and use abilities I'd given to them individually. The game's pretty easy a result, but I'll be damned if it isn't an excellent battle system. You can change what masters your characters can apprentice under from camp now too, though you still need to talk to them in person to get new abilities - the latter being a non-issue as you have a dedicated fast travel option now, thank God.
These aren't without small setbacks, however. Buffs are far less useful now, especially in the late game, where bosses love to spam party-wide status negativing abilities. They take longer to set up, and unfortunately don't synergise well with combos as only a fraction of the buff's effectiveness is applied. A lot of attacks feel far less useful than they should be too - abilities that "bypass enemy defence" or claim to scale off defence or agility always did less damage than regular attacks. The large array of abilities at least encouraged experimentation and mixing and matching, much like Breath of Fire III did, and the abundance of aurum incentivise this far more than the admittedly scarce skill ink of old, but abilities in III were far more useful, thus necessitating this. Dragon gene splicing is gone, as are unique dragon forms that Ryu can undertake. Experimenting and finding your preferred transformations was really cool, as well as seeing the unique appearances that encompassed them, but now it's a single menu option and you're done. It streamlines the process, but ultimately removes a fantastic feature from its predecessor.
Another minor downgrade is movement. Moving diagonally seems to cut your movement speed - and while being easy to get used to, the decision to cut the speed to begin with is odd (again, one of this game's many oddities). Maybe I'm just imagining that, but what I'm certain of is that movement is back to being grid-based, and I found myself sometimes fumbling around ladders and interactable objects, triggering otherwise avoidable random encounters. Oh yeah, encounters aren't seamless transitions on the overworld anymore, instead taking place on a separate plane dedicated to them much like many other JRPGs of the era. For a JRPG, this seems inconsequential, but Breath of Fire III proved that removing the separate screen for battles is a massive boon for the genre, cutting out so many loading transitions and wasted time.
Again, these are small problems, but enough for some to prefer III - though the positives definitely outweigh the negatives for me. The one thing that Breath of Fire IV absolutely nails, however, is its narrative and the way it's conveyed to the player. I didn't want to mark this review as having spoilers, because I want people to see what I love about this game and hopefully incentivise them to try it out, but there's a distinct segment around the late-midgame that's absolutely masterful and a defining moment of not only this game, but my entire life having played jrpgs. It sounds like hyperbole, and...it kind of is, but also kind of isn't. Regardless, this sequence of events is incredible, and I want to gush about it. Actually, no whole game is incredible. It takes a bit to get the ball rolling, but once it does, it's every bit as poignant as Breath of Fire III was and then some. Play it and come back to read below once you have. Spoilers for the mid to lategame and the endings are ahead.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Spoilers<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
All of this is a lengthy explanation of events that I don't think I'd otherwise be able to remotely do any justice in text, in addition to my thoughts on them. It's a lot of rambling, so it's probably best to consider it separate from the main review above. It's such an incredibly pieced together sequence of events that perfectly embody Breath of Fire IV's themes and will likely remain one of, if not my favourite sequences in a video game. I just really want to talk about how good this is, and hope that people who've played the game can relate with how it may have touched them as well, so bear with me. The endings will also be touched upon.
Up to this point, the game's been pretty standard Breath of Fire fare - a colourful cast of characters, cute minigames, Ryu's a dragon (Ryu literally means "dragon" in Japanese, very on the nose, capcom), stuff you'd be used to by now had you played 2 and 3 prior, with some things from 3 being changed and streamlined. There've been perspective changes between Ryu's party and Fou-Lu a couple times, a really cool change of pace that shows you what Ryu's other half is up to, but still nothing too out of the ordinary. All you know so far is that you're looking for Nina's sister, Elina, and that it's been a bit of a wild goose chase. It's around the halfway point of the game where the true purpose of Ryu's journey is made apparent.
While swapping between Ryu and Fou-Lu's perspectives, it's made very apparent that the latter has had an awful streak of luck; constantly being on the run, severely wounded twice, and in both instances: found and unconditionally nursed back to health by complete strangers out of sheer compassion for another's life. Initially, he appears to be a malevolent, misanthropic, godlike entity, only focused on meeting up with his other half, and becoming whole again, but is later shown to be not totally lacking in emotion or compassion. You know that, if he and Ryu ever meet up and become one, the world has the potential to end or prosper, and it seems clear that if he has his way, the former will come to pass, but this conception is challenged when, without realising it, Fou-Lu begins
helping Mami - the second of Fou-Lu's carers - and her fellow villagers on several occasions, thus humanising a previously emotionally distant and indifferent deity. Things quickly take a turn for the worse, however, as Mami's relative is repeatedly sceptical of the Fou-Lu's presence, ultimately leading imperial soldiers to raid the village in search of the emperor. Mami sacrifices herself to be executed to save Fou-Lu, and the emotionally confused god lingers in the village, feeling great attachment to her. Something he never lets go of, even during the ending confrontation.
Amidst all this, on the other side of the world, Ryu's witnessed the aftermath of a slaughter conducted by the empire to learn of Ryu's whereabouts, and goes berserk. He assumes his kaiser form, utterly obliterating Rasso - the one responsible for the massacre and stands to be the only human life Ryu ever takes throughout the game. Despite being a silent protagonist, Ryu's given two dialogue boxes here, technically his only two in the whole game, and the latter is accompanied by a raw, emotional scream. Voice samples during dialogue are rare in this game, and in this case elevate an already powerful scene. Silent protagonists are supposed to be a blank slate for the player to give their own identity to - maybe their own, or that of a friend's, so interpretations of this are going to vary - but Ryu responded exactly how I would during this moment where he is supposed to be disconnected from the player. There've been many times in my life that I've absolutely wanted to uncontrollably lash out at someone who's done something to offend, upset or hurt me, without any regard for the consequences. It's vindictive, and you're probably saying "wow. You want to do bad things out of anger. Never heard that before", but I've never handled anger, or rather, emotions in general, well. I have mild anger issues. I never act unprovoked, but I loathe to admit I'm no stranger to raging or getting melodramatic over a slightest inconvenience. I often feel mentally weak as a result. I've never seen someone get killed in cold blood before my very eyes, and I've never wanted to kill someone either, let alone even harm someone as I simply don't have the guts to, but seeing Ryu - a character I had begun to identify with, as is typical of a silent protagonist, lash out and enact their punishment - resonated with me. An act atypical of the average lead character, who, in their better judgement, would likely allow a character like Rasso to live.
And then, came guilt. Ursula stands before Ryu, trembling with fear, her gun aimed straight at him - a detail I didn't even notice when first playing. Rasso is nowhere to be seen, likely reduced to dust in the death he was given moments prior. It isn't until Nina, his most emotionally attached partner in his journey to save her sister, clutching Ryu on her knees, begs him to stop that his rage subsides. I felt guilt not for a life taken, but for Nina's monologue that followed:
"Watching what happened, I knew something was not right in the world. That something...was out of balance."
"And for the first time, when looking at a dragon...."
"I felt afraid."
That last, solitary line is what got me. One of my greatest fears is letting people down, disappointing them. Throughout the whole game, Nina insists that Ryu isn't someone who would do great harm to anyone. She finds comfort in him. And for a brief moment that ripples throughout the whole narrative, Ryu had let her down. I had let her down.
Things only get more depressing.
Back to Fou-Lu. He's stayed in the village a little while longer - likely in hopes of seeing Mami or saving her - but is instructed by a villager to head to a shrine to the south. Fou-Lu bears witness yet again to an act of compassion towards him, this time from a monster he had quelled for the sake of the village some time prior. The monster kills itself to let Fou-Lu proceed into the shrine, with the god questioning why it would help him, and lamenting that his presence constantly affects innocents. He presses onward regardless, until he is given a sudden vision of Mami's execution, beholding the death of the one human he had come to truly care for since his re-awakening. To add insult to injury, Mami's execution is used to fuel a bioweapon that gets used on Fou-Lu himself, who yet again survives, but emerges broken, and driven now by spite, revenge, and an immense hatred for humans. And... I don't think anyone can blame him? Time and time again, he's been hounded by those who are supposed to be welcoming his return, had what little solace he's been given quickly taken from him, and most crucially, lost a bond with a being that, in any other timeline, would've likely never come to pass.
All of this ties back to what I said earlier about wanting to act upon things that have upset or angered me. Breath of Fire IV never gives a right answer as to whether truly doing something about it is right or wrong. In Ryu's case, it's shown to be wrong - how it distances you from those who care and believe in you, even if someone gets what they deserve. In Fou-Lu's, it's shown to be right - if you don't do anything, things are just going to continue getting worse. In the Ryu's ending, Yuna receives no punishment for the atrocities he's committed, the family he's separated, the countless human lives needlessly lost for the sake of "creating a God" to fuel his bioweapon. A foolish, callous, self-pleasing endeavour that only serves to satisfy their sick urges and wreak destruction. But life goes on - and with the oppression of the empire gone, people are given a chance to start their lives anew, look towards the future, and simply cling to the hope that things will turn out alright. In Fou-Lu's ending, it's up to interpretation, but it's likely that humanity is either wiped out or forced under extreme oppression as an act of retribution. I've seen many believe that this is the better ending, given the atrocities committed within Breath of Fire IV's narrative and world are undeniable, and I'm honestly not sure. I think the whole point is that there isn't supposed a "good" or "better" ending, save for personal opinions. I want to believe in people, that we can change for the better, but I'm incessantly reminded of the prejudice we've enacted over the ages, the ever going petty conflicts over territory and power. Our folly is immeasurable - we're doomed to continue making these mistakes - but a world with the ones we care for in it is also a world also worth believing in and fighting for. I often just don't know what to think about our world, of our people, and Breath of Fire IV captures these conflicting thoughts of philanthropy and misanthropy wonderfully.
Breath of Fire IV is an odd game. An emotionally resonant one, at least for me. A game that I love despite its oddities - despite its admittedly abrupt endings, and how for every stride it makes over BoFIII, it takes one step back. It has an undeniable string of small issues, maybe because it was rushed towards the end, or the devs had the desire for a slightly different take on a Breath of Fire game, possibly even both, and I see it often ranked lower than III as a result. I, however, adore Breath of Fire IV both for what it accomplishes and its unfulfilled potential. It's a game about opposing ideologies, Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, both from a narrative and general game sense, with the result feeling like a natural progression from its predecessors, but also as if it's an alternate universe successor to Breath of Fire II. Despite this, Breath of Fire IV emerges as an all-time great JRPG, and, in my opinion, the best in the series.
Getting the good (and in some cases obvious) out of the way, the visuals are gorgeous, possibly some of the best sprite art and animation I've ever seen in a video game. It's all so fluid, vibrant, detailed, and expressive, moreso than the Breath of Fire norm. The music alternates between being ethereal and surreal, and traditional, classical Chinese folk music (I don't know if there's a proper name or genre for this) accentuated by its flutes, erhus, and various other wind, brass, and string instruments. Both styles compliment the game's main theme and world excellently. Sound design is extra satisfying, too. From the menu blips, item and minigame jingles, the sound of dust kicking up behind characters' feet as they run through the sand. It helps that the user interface has this really comfy, rustic feel to it - the whole game feels so inviting thanks to all of this.
The world and story are more grounded, more grim, more engrossing - forgoing the traditional, Breath of Fire happy-go-lucky yet at times grim story about saving the world and instead telling a tale of a millennium old empire, its deified first emperor, its decline in current times, the poverty and death sown by its fruitless, persistent pursuits in conquest... It's a world that feels less lived in or interconnected than III's, yes, but that's the whole point - villages, cities and colonies are far apart, seperated by God-knows how much inhabitable desert. Many of which are war torn, in ruins, or totally rural. It's rare for an "evil empire" in a jrpg to have such a large influence on its world, being so omnipresent, yet never blatant about it - Breath of Fire IV really nails the post-war, hostile, blemished world vibe.
A much-needed improvement over III is how party members' usability and character building are handled. Every party member has their own uses and are all interchangeable in battle, with every character capable of fulfilling several roles. Nina's probably the only exception, excelling as a mage, but she's leaps and bounds more useful than her BoFIII counterpart. You can make Ershin an aggro-tank, a mage-tank or an all-arounder, for example. Scias and Ursula are equally capable of becoming either fast, hard-hitting mages or physical damage dealers as well, and the list goes on. In III, you'd generally just use Ryu, Momo, Peco and Rei interchangeably for their better base growths and the fact that non-active party members don't gain experience, but in IV I found myself constantly alternating between characters mid-battle to either set up combo chains and use abilities I'd given to them individually. The game's pretty easy a result, but I'll be damned if it isn't an excellent battle system. You can change what masters your characters can apprentice under from camp now too, though you still need to talk to them in person to get new abilities - the latter being a non-issue as you have a dedicated fast travel option now, thank God.
These aren't without small setbacks, however. Buffs are far less useful now, especially in the late game, where bosses love to spam party-wide status negativing abilities. They take longer to set up, and unfortunately don't synergise well with combos as only a fraction of the buff's effectiveness is applied. A lot of attacks feel far less useful than they should be too - abilities that "bypass enemy defence" or claim to scale off defence or agility always did less damage than regular attacks. The large array of abilities at least encouraged experimentation and mixing and matching, much like Breath of Fire III did, and the abundance of aurum incentivise this far more than the admittedly scarce skill ink of old, but abilities in III were far more useful, thus necessitating this. Dragon gene splicing is gone, as are unique dragon forms that Ryu can undertake. Experimenting and finding your preferred transformations was really cool, as well as seeing the unique appearances that encompassed them, but now it's a single menu option and you're done. It streamlines the process, but ultimately removes a fantastic feature from its predecessor.
Another minor downgrade is movement. Moving diagonally seems to cut your movement speed - and while being easy to get used to, the decision to cut the speed to begin with is odd (again, one of this game's many oddities). Maybe I'm just imagining that, but what I'm certain of is that movement is back to being grid-based, and I found myself sometimes fumbling around ladders and interactable objects, triggering otherwise avoidable random encounters. Oh yeah, encounters aren't seamless transitions on the overworld anymore, instead taking place on a separate plane dedicated to them much like many other JRPGs of the era. For a JRPG, this seems inconsequential, but Breath of Fire III proved that removing the separate screen for battles is a massive boon for the genre, cutting out so many loading transitions and wasted time.
Again, these are small problems, but enough for some to prefer III - though the positives definitely outweigh the negatives for me. The one thing that Breath of Fire IV absolutely nails, however, is its narrative and the way it's conveyed to the player. I didn't want to mark this review as having spoilers, because I want people to see what I love about this game and hopefully incentivise them to try it out, but there's a distinct segment around the late-midgame that's absolutely masterful and a defining moment of not only this game, but my entire life having played jrpgs. It sounds like hyperbole, and...it kind of is, but also kind of isn't. Regardless, this sequence of events is incredible, and I want to gush about it. Actually, no whole game is incredible. It takes a bit to get the ball rolling, but once it does, it's every bit as poignant as Breath of Fire III was and then some. Play it and come back to read below once you have. Spoilers for the mid to lategame and the endings are ahead.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Spoilers<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
All of this is a lengthy explanation of events that I don't think I'd otherwise be able to remotely do any justice in text, in addition to my thoughts on them. It's a lot of rambling, so it's probably best to consider it separate from the main review above. It's such an incredibly pieced together sequence of events that perfectly embody Breath of Fire IV's themes and will likely remain one of, if not my favourite sequences in a video game. I just really want to talk about how good this is, and hope that people who've played the game can relate with how it may have touched them as well, so bear with me. The endings will also be touched upon.
Up to this point, the game's been pretty standard Breath of Fire fare - a colourful cast of characters, cute minigames, Ryu's a dragon (Ryu literally means "dragon" in Japanese, very on the nose, capcom), stuff you'd be used to by now had you played 2 and 3 prior, with some things from 3 being changed and streamlined. There've been perspective changes between Ryu's party and Fou-Lu a couple times, a really cool change of pace that shows you what Ryu's other half is up to, but still nothing too out of the ordinary. All you know so far is that you're looking for Nina's sister, Elina, and that it's been a bit of a wild goose chase. It's around the halfway point of the game where the true purpose of Ryu's journey is made apparent.
While swapping between Ryu and Fou-Lu's perspectives, it's made very apparent that the latter has had an awful streak of luck; constantly being on the run, severely wounded twice, and in both instances: found and unconditionally nursed back to health by complete strangers out of sheer compassion for another's life. Initially, he appears to be a malevolent, misanthropic, godlike entity, only focused on meeting up with his other half, and becoming whole again, but is later shown to be not totally lacking in emotion or compassion. You know that, if he and Ryu ever meet up and become one, the world has the potential to end or prosper, and it seems clear that if he has his way, the former will come to pass, but this conception is challenged when, without realising it, Fou-Lu begins
helping Mami - the second of Fou-Lu's carers - and her fellow villagers on several occasions, thus humanising a previously emotionally distant and indifferent deity. Things quickly take a turn for the worse, however, as Mami's relative is repeatedly sceptical of the Fou-Lu's presence, ultimately leading imperial soldiers to raid the village in search of the emperor. Mami sacrifices herself to be executed to save Fou-Lu, and the emotionally confused god lingers in the village, feeling great attachment to her. Something he never lets go of, even during the ending confrontation.
Amidst all this, on the other side of the world, Ryu's witnessed the aftermath of a slaughter conducted by the empire to learn of Ryu's whereabouts, and goes berserk. He assumes his kaiser form, utterly obliterating Rasso - the one responsible for the massacre and stands to be the only human life Ryu ever takes throughout the game. Despite being a silent protagonist, Ryu's given two dialogue boxes here, technically his only two in the whole game, and the latter is accompanied by a raw, emotional scream. Voice samples during dialogue are rare in this game, and in this case elevate an already powerful scene. Silent protagonists are supposed to be a blank slate for the player to give their own identity to - maybe their own, or that of a friend's, so interpretations of this are going to vary - but Ryu responded exactly how I would during this moment where he is supposed to be disconnected from the player. There've been many times in my life that I've absolutely wanted to uncontrollably lash out at someone who's done something to offend, upset or hurt me, without any regard for the consequences. It's vindictive, and you're probably saying "wow. You want to do bad things out of anger. Never heard that before", but I've never handled anger, or rather, emotions in general, well. I have mild anger issues. I never act unprovoked, but I loathe to admit I'm no stranger to raging or getting melodramatic over a slightest inconvenience. I often feel mentally weak as a result. I've never seen someone get killed in cold blood before my very eyes, and I've never wanted to kill someone either, let alone even harm someone as I simply don't have the guts to, but seeing Ryu - a character I had begun to identify with, as is typical of a silent protagonist, lash out and enact their punishment - resonated with me. An act atypical of the average lead character, who, in their better judgement, would likely allow a character like Rasso to live.
And then, came guilt. Ursula stands before Ryu, trembling with fear, her gun aimed straight at him - a detail I didn't even notice when first playing. Rasso is nowhere to be seen, likely reduced to dust in the death he was given moments prior. It isn't until Nina, his most emotionally attached partner in his journey to save her sister, clutching Ryu on her knees, begs him to stop that his rage subsides. I felt guilt not for a life taken, but for Nina's monologue that followed:
"Watching what happened, I knew something was not right in the world. That something...was out of balance."
"And for the first time, when looking at a dragon...."
"I felt afraid."
That last, solitary line is what got me. One of my greatest fears is letting people down, disappointing them. Throughout the whole game, Nina insists that Ryu isn't someone who would do great harm to anyone. She finds comfort in him. And for a brief moment that ripples throughout the whole narrative, Ryu had let her down. I had let her down.
Things only get more depressing.
Back to Fou-Lu. He's stayed in the village a little while longer - likely in hopes of seeing Mami or saving her - but is instructed by a villager to head to a shrine to the south. Fou-Lu bears witness yet again to an act of compassion towards him, this time from a monster he had quelled for the sake of the village some time prior. The monster kills itself to let Fou-Lu proceed into the shrine, with the god questioning why it would help him, and lamenting that his presence constantly affects innocents. He presses onward regardless, until he is given a sudden vision of Mami's execution, beholding the death of the one human he had come to truly care for since his re-awakening. To add insult to injury, Mami's execution is used to fuel a bioweapon that gets used on Fou-Lu himself, who yet again survives, but emerges broken, and driven now by spite, revenge, and an immense hatred for humans. And... I don't think anyone can blame him? Time and time again, he's been hounded by those who are supposed to be welcoming his return, had what little solace he's been given quickly taken from him, and most crucially, lost a bond with a being that, in any other timeline, would've likely never come to pass.
All of this ties back to what I said earlier about wanting to act upon things that have upset or angered me. Breath of Fire IV never gives a right answer as to whether truly doing something about it is right or wrong. In Ryu's case, it's shown to be wrong - how it distances you from those who care and believe in you, even if someone gets what they deserve. In Fou-Lu's, it's shown to be right - if you don't do anything, things are just going to continue getting worse. In the Ryu's ending, Yuna receives no punishment for the atrocities he's committed, the family he's separated, the countless human lives needlessly lost for the sake of "creating a God" to fuel his bioweapon. A foolish, callous, self-pleasing endeavour that only serves to satisfy their sick urges and wreak destruction. But life goes on - and with the oppression of the empire gone, people are given a chance to start their lives anew, look towards the future, and simply cling to the hope that things will turn out alright. In Fou-Lu's ending, it's up to interpretation, but it's likely that humanity is either wiped out or forced under extreme oppression as an act of retribution. I've seen many believe that this is the better ending, given the atrocities committed within Breath of Fire IV's narrative and world are undeniable, and I'm honestly not sure. I think the whole point is that there isn't supposed a "good" or "better" ending, save for personal opinions. I want to believe in people, that we can change for the better, but I'm incessantly reminded of the prejudice we've enacted over the ages, the ever going petty conflicts over territory and power. Our folly is immeasurable - we're doomed to continue making these mistakes - but a world with the ones we care for in it is also a world also worth believing in and fighting for. I often just don't know what to think about our world, of our people, and Breath of Fire IV captures these conflicting thoughts of philanthropy and misanthropy wonderfully.
Atalian
1 month ago