9 Kings, addictive, worthy to play, roguelike
Jalen is a lifelong gamer and digital historian who documents the evolution of internet subcultures, gaming communities, and meme politics. His longform essays blend deep research with commentary, tracing how online platforms influence offline behavior and group dynamics.
This is 9 Kings, a roguelike deckbuilding kingdom builder that’s got me—and thousands of others—completely hooked in 2025. But is it worth your time? journey with this indie gem and figure out if it’s the chaotic, combo-crafting masterpiece it’s cracked up to be—or just another overhyped Early Access title.
I stumbled across 9 Kings during a late-night Steam scroll, the kind where you’re just looking for something fresh to break the monotony. The pixel art caught my eye—vibrant, retro, and dripping with charm. The premise? You’re a king (one of nine, naturally) tasked with building a kingdom on a 3x3 grid, fending off waves of rival kings with cards that summon troops, buildings, or spells. It’s like someone tossed Balatro, Total War, and a tower defense game into a blender and hit puree. The demo was free, so I thought, “Why not?” Two hours later, I was still playing, my coffee cold, my sleep schedule in shambles.
Let’s talk gameplay, because this is where 9 Kings shines brighter than a freshly minted gold coin. You start with a king—say, the King of Nothing, a balanced newbie-friendly choice with knights and blacksmiths. Each turn, you draw a card and place it on your grid. Buildings buff nearby units, troops march out to auto-battle invaders, and spells can turn the tide. After each victory, you loot a card from your defeated rival, letting you mix and match decks for wild combos. My first run had me pairing the King of Nothing’s sturdy knights with the King of Blood’s sacrificial demons. The result? A glorious, chaotic mess where my units were dying and reviving in a blood-fueled frenzy. It felt like conducting a symphony of pixelated carnage.
What makes 9 Kings so addictive is its “one more turn” loop. Each run lasts about 20-30 minutes, perfect for squeezing in a quick session. But here’s the kicker: every choice feels meaningful. Should I place a blacksmith to boost my knights or a wizard tower that might get overrun? Do I make peace with the King of Greed to avoid his gold-hungry mercenaries or go to war for his cards? The game’s strategic depth comes from these micro-decisions, amplified by a grid that forces you to think spatially. Early on, my 3x3 grid felt like a cramped apartment, but as it expanded, I was orchestrating epic battles that made my PC wheeze.
The variety of kings keeps things fresh. Each of the seven available kings (two more are coming) has a unique deck and playstyle. The King of Greed hoards gold for late-game dominance, while the King of Nature spawns hordes of beasts and heals like a forest deity. My favorite? The King of Progress, who slaps machine guns and gatling towers into a fantasy world like he’s auditioning for a steampunk crossover. Mixing their cards creates absurd synergies—like pairing Nature’s multiplying imps with Progress’s upgraded snipers. It’s the kind of game where you cackle maniacally when your build clicks, watching enemies melt before your overpowered army.
But it’s not all sunshine and sentient fungi. 9 Kings is in Early Access, and it shows. The game’s polish is impressive—bug-free in my experience—but content can feel thin after dozens of runs. With only seven kings and a limited card pool, you’ll start seeing familiar patterns. I found myself craving more events, cards, or modes to shake things up. The endless mode is a fun stress test, but its difficulty spikes can feel unfair, like the game’s daring you to break it before it breaks you. And don’t get me started on the sound design. When multiple units attack, the audio stacks into a cacophony that’s more headache than epic. Lowering the sound effects mutes crucial cues, which feels like a bug.
Still, these gripes don’t overshadow the fun. The developers, Sad Socket, are responsive, rolling out patches like the recent one that added a Rainbow army event and tweaked RNG for fairer card draws. They’re transparent about their roadmap, promising new kings, modes, and perks. This isn’t one of those Early Access disasters that gets abandoned; the community’s buzzing with over 7,000 positive Steam reviews, and the game’s peak player count of 13,905 speaks to its pull. It’s not just me—players on Reddit and X are raving about its addictive loop, even if some note it needs more meat on its bones.
Value. At around $12 (often discounted to under $10), 9 Kings is a steal. I’ve sunk 30 hours into it, and I’m not alone—Reddit threads are full of players hitting triple digits. The free demo is a great way to test the waters, offering hours of content. Compared to other roguelikes, it’s cheaper than Slay the Spire or Balatro but delivers a similar dopamine hit. If you’re into deckbuilders or strategy games, this is a no-brainer. Just don’t expect a sprawling epic—it’s a lean, mean combo machine.
Storytelling isn’t 9 Kings’s strong suit, but it doesn’t need to be. There’s no deep lore or cutscenes, just a vibe: you’re a king, your rivals want you dead, go build something epic. The pixel art and war cries from your troops add personality, like when my archers shouted before charging into battle. It’s less about narrative and more about the stories you create, like the time I accidentally built an army of rats that overwhelmed a boss through sheer numbers. Those moments are what keep you coming back.
If you love roguelikes, deckbuilders, or strategy games, it’s an emphatic yes. Its blend of quick runs, deep strategy, and absurd combos makes it a standout, even in a crowded genre. It’s not perfect—more content and audio tweaks are needed—but its foundation is rock-solid, and Sad Socket’s updates keep it evolving. I’m already itching to try the unreleased King of Nomads and see what chaos I can unleash. Whether you’re a casual gamer or a combo addict, 9 Kings will likely steal your evenings, too. Just don’t blame me when you’re up at 3 a.m. muttering, “One more turn.”