My Hilariously Biased Ranking of Hollow Knight's Areas in 2026

Let's be real, revisiting Hallownest in 2026 is like catching up with an old, slightly terrifying friend. The hand-drawn beauty, Christopher Larkin's god-tier soundtrack, and that feeling of stumbling into a new, weirdly wonderful zone—it's all still there, making this game an eternal masterpiece. But as much as I adore every mossy rock and creepy-crawly, not all corners of this fallen kingdom are created equal. Some are glorious, some are... well, let's just say they're resting on their narrative laures. So, armed with my own questionable memories, a dash of community consensus, and a heaping spoonful of personal bias, I'm diving back in to rank these areas from "meh" to "magnificent." No dream nail required.

Kicking things off at the bottom, we have the Resting Grounds. Look, I get it. This place is important. It's where the game basically hands you a map to the Dreamers and says, "Here's your fancy new Dream Nail, go nuts." Narratively, it's a big deal. But as an area to actually play in? It's about as exciting as watching moss grow. Sure, the Blue Lake is pretty, and yeah, you can pick a fight with Revek if you're feeling spicy. But strip away the lore, and you're left with what is essentially a very scenic Essence ATM. You go in, cash out your ghost juice, and leave. For a place called the Resting Grounds, it sure doesn't make me want to stay.

Next up, floating into disappointment, is Fog Canyon. Oh, Fog Canyon. If this ranking were based purely on screenshots, you'd be near the top. The floating jellyfish! The ethereal music! It's like a pastel nightmare dreamscape. 😍 But then you actually have to move through it. The gameplay here is arguably the most underwhelming in the entire kingdom. Those beautiful jellyfish? They're not enemies; they're glorified, explosive environmental hazards you tiptoe around. The whole area, including the Teacher's Archives, feels like a basic platforming test that becomes a complete joke if you have Isma's Tear. And the boss... Uumuu. Let's not talk about Uumuu. Compared to the adrenaline-pumping fights elsewhere, this floating jellybean is a snooze fest. A beautiful, disappointing snooze fest.

Ah, the Howling Cliffs. Remember that thrill of backtracking to the very start, finding a hidden path, and thinking, "YES! Secret area! This is going to be amazing!"? Yeah, that feeling lasts about two minutes. You climb all the way up there and... it's kind of just there. The scenery is drab, the enemies are basically recycled from the Crossroads, and aside from snagging Joni's Blessing (admittedly in a gorgeous butterfly-filled cave), there's little reason to hang around. The Grimm Troupe DLC gave it a bit more purpose, bless their creepy hearts, but overall, the Howling Cliffs are the definition of "much ado about nothing." It promises adventure and delivers a windy plateau.

Now, let's talk about a place that's literally and figuratively the pits: The Abyss. This is the area you visit to get the Shade Cloak after grabbing the King's Brand. It tries so hard to be Deepnest's even-edgier cousin—all dark, ominous, and oppressively atmospheric. But where Deepnest makes you jump at every shadow, The Abyss just makes you go, "Huh, it's really dark in here." The shades are cool, the lore is heavy, but there's painfully little reason to explore beyond a quick in-and-out for your new cloak. It's a mood without much substance, a place I always forget about until the game reminds me I need to go wall-jump in the void.

We have to talk about the Forgotten Crossroads. This is where it all begins for most of us. The birthplace of our obsession! And yet... Ask any player who bounced off Hollow Knight early, and they'll likely blame this dull, grey, confusing opening area. It feels less like a proper zone and more like an extended tutorial after King's Pass. It doesn't showcase the visual splendor or intricate design the game is famous for. Bosses like Gruz Mother? Forgettable. The atmosphere? Grime-core. If it weren't for the fact that you have to pass through it to get to the lovely hub of Dirtmouth, I genuinely would have forgotten it existed. It lives up to its name a little too well.

Thankfully, the developers knew the Crossroads were a bit of a slog. Enter: the Infected Crossroads! The orange goop is everywhere! It's more colorful! It's more dangerous! It's... a marginal improvement. While the infection makes the area visually more interesting, it also blocks key paths, making navigation an absolute pain. What was once a straightforward route becomes a convoluted detour. It feels less like a clever difficulty spike and more like someone spilled infectious marmalade over the map. Sure, it's better than the original, but that's a very low bar to clear.

Time to get soggy in the Royal Waterways/Isma's Grove. I love you, Dung Defender, with all my heart and soul. Your laughter is a treasure. But your home? Not so much. This is the game's first attempt at claustrophobic, unsettling design, and it's... fine. The re-animating enemies are a neat trick. But man, it is incredibly easy to get lost in these dank, identical-looking sewer pipes. Cornifer's placement is awkward, the bosses (Flukemarm, I'm looking at you) are pushovers, and while Isma's Grove is a beautiful oasis, it's really just a fancy dressing room for acquiring Isma's Tear. It serves its purpose but lacks the magic of higher-tier areas.

Let's give some credit to The Hive, the buzzy DLC area. I think it gets more hate than it deserves. As an optional, hidden zone, it has its charms. Visually, it's stunning—a golden, honey-drenched cathedral filled with the cutest, most murderous bee enemies you'll ever meet. And the reward, Hiveblood, is a godsend for the platforming hellscapes of the White Palace. However, the enemy placement is the real sting. They swarm you in ways that often force cheesy, doorway-based combat, completely breaking the flow. And then, after all that struggle, you reach the Hive Knight... and the fight is an anticlimactic whimper. The journey is harder than the destination, which feels like a missed opportunity for such a visually unique area.

Now for a place that feels like home: Dirtmouth. Yes, it's aesthetically similar to the Forgotten Crossroads—desolate, grey, quiet. But function overrides form here. This is your sanctuary. As you play, this lonely town slowly fills with life: merchants, warriors, weirdos. You get to challenge the brutal Nightmare King Grimm thanks to the DLC. Dirtmouth becomes that warm, safe blanket in the hostile, unpredictable world of Hallownest. Every new face that appears—whether it's a sly merchant or a bragging fool—makes this feeling grow. It's not about the challenges here; it's about the community you build.

Don't let the first impression fool you with the Ancient Basin. It's dark, it's dingy, and it doesn't exactly roll out the welcome mat. But this place is a silent MVP. Why? One word: Trams. Discovering the tram system here is a game-changing \u201cEUREKA!\u201d moment that revolutionizes how you traverse the entire lower half of the map. No more endless backtracking through dangerous zones! Plus, this area houses the fantastic Broken Vessel boss fight, which grants you the Monarch Wings—arguably the most fun movement upgrade in the game. If we separate out the White Palace and The Abyss, its own lore might be a bit light, but as a crucial transport hub and a tough-love training ground for the horrors of Deepnest, the Ancient Basin absolutely earns its stripes.

And there you have it—the lower half of Hallownest, ranked by one very opinionated bug. From Essence banks to tram stations, it's a mixed bag of brilliance and boredom. But remember, even the "worst" areas of Hollow Knight are still part of a masterpiece. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go listen to the City of Tears theme on loop and contemplate life. 🐛