Discover the Ancient Ways of the Qilin for Modern Spiritual Enlightenment
2025-11-18 12:00
I remember the first time I picked up Avowed, feeling that familiar thrill of discovering new combat possibilities. The feedback that combat offers truly entices you to see how each weapon type works and looks in a skirmish, which makes it surprising that so few are found in chests, offered as quest rewards, or just lay strewn around the map. This scarcity creates an interesting parallel to ancient spiritual practices I've been studying recently - particularly what I've come to call "the ancient ways of the Qilin for modern spiritual enlightenment." Just as the Qilin in Chinese mythology represents rare opportunities and auspicious moments, finding the right weapon combination in Avowed feels like stumbling upon spiritual wisdom in our chaotic modern world.
The merchant system particularly frustrated me during my first twenty hours of gameplay. These vendors offer opportunities to purchase new weapons but at heavily inflated prices, forcing you to use what you're lucky enough to get your hands on. I found myself sticking with the same sword and pistol combination for nearly fifteen hours because the alternative would have cost me 3,200 gold - an amount that would have required grinding the same repetitive side quests for at least six more hours. This limitation reminded me of how the Qilin's ancient wisdom teaches us to work with what we have rather than constantly seeking external solutions. There's a certain beauty in making do with limited resources, both in gaming and in spiritual practice.
What truly captivated me were those magical moments when unconventional combinations clicked. Using a sword and pistol makes for exciting combat that lets you deal lots of damage but forces you to evade a lot too - creating this beautiful dance of attack and retreat that felt almost meditative once I mastered the rhythm. I remember one particular encounter in the Shattered Scar region where this combination helped me defeat a boss that had killed me seven times previously. The satisfaction wasn't just about victory - it was about finding my own unique approach rather than following some predetermined path. This is where Avowed's combat system truly shines, and where it perfectly mirrors the Qilin's teachings about finding enlightenment through personal experimentation rather than rigid doctrine.
However, the ability upgrade system gradually undermines this beautiful chaos. These upgrades are ones you'd find in a traditional RPG where you're building toward a specific build, rather than ones that encourage you to make weird but interesting combinations work. By level 25, I realized I had made a critical mistake - spreading my 48 ability points across multiple weapon types left me significantly weaker than if I had specialized. The math doesn't lie: focusing on one-handed weapons would have given me 45% higher damage output and 30% better critical chance compared to my jack-of-all-trades approach. It's difficult to make some of Avowed's most-interesting combinations synergize when it's far more effective to stick to one-handed weapons and buff their damage and critical chances, instead of spreading your limited ability points across multiple types.
This design philosophy creates what I call the "spiritual dissonance" in modern RPGs - where the game tempts you with creative possibilities but punishes you for exploring them. I've counted at least seventeen different weapon types across my 80-hour playthrough, yet the game actively discourages experimentation beyond the early levels. The ancient ways of the Qilin teach us that true enlightenment comes from balancing tradition with innovation, from honoring established paths while still exploring new territories. Avowed could learn from this wisdom by redesigning its progression system to reward creative combinations rather than penalizing them.
My solution emerged during my second playthrough. I decided to ignore conventional wisdom and created what I called the "Qilin build" - focusing on weapons that complemented each other thematically rather than statistically. I used a lightning-infused wand in my left hand and a storm-caller axe in my right, creating elemental combinations that the game's designers probably never anticipated. The damage numbers were 22% lower than optimal, but the sheer joy of watching lightning arcs chain between enemies made the experience infinitely more rewarding. Sometimes I wonder if we've become too obsessed with min-maxing in both gaming and spiritual practice, forgetting that the most meaningful journeys often lie off the beaten path.
What Avowed ultimately teaches us - perhaps unintentionally - is that modern life often forces us into specialized roles while teasing us with possibilities of being more well-rounded. The ancient ways of the Qilin for modern spiritual enlightenment offer a different perspective: that true mastery comes from understanding the connections between different paths rather than excelling at just one. As I continue my journey through both virtual worlds and spiritual practices, I've learned to appreciate the beauty in imperfect combinations and the wisdom in unexpected synergies. After all, the Qilin itself is a mythical combination of different creatures - and its power lies precisely in that harmonious blending of disparate elements.
