When Elden Ring launched on February 25, 2022, it didn’t just redefine the Soulsborne genre—it rewrote the rules of open-world design. Developed by FromSoftware and enriched with lore from George R.R. Martin, this sprawling action RPG dropped players into the Lands Between, a realm that’s earned a 92 on Metacritic and sold over 20 million copies by early 2025. Its accolades—Game of the Year at The Game Awards 2022, among others—speak to its mastery of combat, storytelling, and exploration. Yet, beneath the praise for its brutal bosses and haunting landscapes lies a subtler triumph: the way it manipulates scale to mess with your head. Most players, myself included, raced through its towering castles and subterranean rivers without fully clocking its cleverest trick. It’s not just big—it’s designed to make you forget how big it is, immersing you so deeply that the sheer size becomes an afterthought. Let’s unpack how FromSoftware pulled this off and why it’s a game-changer.

The Lands Between isn’t the largest open-world map by raw square footage. Clocking in at roughly 79 square kilometers (per Reddit sleuth Lusty-Batch’s horse-based math), it’s dwarfed by the likes of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey or Red Dead Redemption 2. But size isn’t the point—scale is. FromSoftware has a knack for making environments feel impossibly grand, a trick honed across Dark Souls and Bloodborne. In Elden Ring, they’ve turned it into an art form. Take Stormveil Castle: its spires loom like a giant’s playground, yet it feels right once you face Margit, a boss whose height justifies the oversized halls. Or consider the Academy of Raya Lucaria, perched high above Liurnia’s floodplains—it’s so distant you’d swear it’s a mirage, yet you can trek there on foot. X posts from players like @GenePark marvel at how “slices of Elden Ring’s world are as big as an entire Dark Souls game,” and he’s not wrong. The game’s scale isn’t about mileage; it’s about perception.
Everything In Elden Ring Is Huge, But You Get Used To It
“I See Thee, Little Tarnished”

This perceptual sleight-of-hand starts early. You emerge in Limgrave, a rolling expanse that feels vast yet manageable. The map’s blank slate nudges you to explore, and soon you’re snagging fragments that reveal more—Weeping Peninsula, Caelid, Altus Plateau. Each addition stretches the canvas, but the real shock hits when you ride an elevator down to Siofra River. Suddenly, a whole underground layer unfurls, complete with its own sky and ruins. PC Gamer’s 2022 piece nailed it: “The map UI itself grows,” doubling in height and depth as you go. On X, @ZullieTheWitch has dissected how FromSoftware fudges distances, squeezing massive vistas into tighter spaces than they seem. It’s a magician’s trick—smoke and mirrors that make every cliff, chain, or cavern feel like it belongs to a world far bigger than its actual footprint.
What’s wild is how this scale serves the game’s soul. You’re a Tarnished, a nobody chasing the throne of Elden Lord, guided by Queen Marika’s Grace. The Outer Gods barely notice you, yet your journey feels epic. Stormveil’s gargantuan gates, Mohgwyn Palace’s celestial perch, the chains to the Forge of the Giants—they’re all stupidly huge, dwarfing you in a way that screams insignificance. But here’s the kicker: you conquer them anyway. That dissonance—feeling small yet powerful—is Elden Ring’s secret sauce. It’s not about stopping to gawk at Raya Lucaria’s towers (though I did); it’s about the subconscious thrill of navigating a world that’s too big to fully grasp. On my first playthrough, I bolted past Ancient Dragon Gransax’s corpse in Leyndell, scavenging loot instead of soaking in its size. Looking back, I missed the point—the scale was working its magic without me even noticing.
Elden Ring Knows That It’s Cool When Things Are Incredibly Tall
Who Could Blame A Tarnished For Feeling Inadequate?




Compare this to other open-world titans. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom nails verticality with its sky islands and Depths, echoing Elden Ring’s elevator-to-Siofra vibe. Climbing to its Wind Temple feels monumental, but Hyrule’s scale is more tangible—you can see its edges. Elden Ring blurs those edges with layered design and visual trickery. Posts on X from @complete_phased argue the open world “breaks the natural flow” of Soulsborne pacing, and sure, it sprawls more than Dark Souls’ tight-knit Lordran. But that sprawl is deliberate. The Lands Between doesn’t spoon-feed you a path; it dares you to get lost in its enormity. Reused bosses—a valid gripe—fade into the background when you’re scaling chains that could anchor a continent or gazing at Caelid’s scarlet rot from a cliff that feels miles high.
FromSoftware’s obsession with scale isn’t new. Dark Souls hid Anor Londo’s grandeur behind clever shortcuts; Sekiro made Ashina Castle tower over its valleys. But Elden Ring takes it to eleven with an open-world twist. The Siofra River reveal mimics Dark Souls II’s hidden worlds, but on a grander stage. Mohgwyn Palace, floating above that same river, looks like a celestial afterthought—until you realize it’s reachable. The Forge of the Giants’ chains aren’t just set dressing; they’re a climbable testament to a world built for titans. It’s not about square kilometers—it’s about verticality, density, and that gut-punch moment when you realize the map has another layer. On Steam forums, players debate whether this makes exploration cooler or just exhausting, but the consensus leans toward awe.
This scale isn’t flawless. The reused mini-dungeon bosses—like the tenth Catacombs watchdog—can cheapen the grandeur, a point echoed across X and Reddit. And yeah, I’ve tumbled off cliffs thanks to Torrent’s less-than-precise jumps, cursing gravity’s harsh lesson. But these hiccups don’t undo the trick. The Lands Between immerses you because its scale feels alive, not just big for bigness’ sake. Chatting with Miriel, the Turtle Pope, at the Church of Vows, I learned about Radagon and Rennala’s split—a quiet moment dwarfed by the church’s looming arches. That contrast—small stories in huge spaces—keeps you hooked. It’s why I didn’t gape at every vista on my first run; I was too busy living in them.
Elden Ring Plays With Scale In A Way That’s Easy To Miss
An Important Evolution In FromSoftware’s Game Design




By the time Shadow of the Erdtree dropped in June 2024, FromSoftware doubled down. Director Hidetaka Miyazaki told IGN its map rivals or exceeds Limgrave, packing a denser, more labyrinthine Land of Shadow. It’s Elden Ring’s scale trick on steroids—less sprawling, more stacked, proving they’re still refining the formula. X posts from @IGN hyped this shift, and players ate it up. But the base game’s legacy endures: it’s the blueprint. Other games—Breath of the Wild, Skyrim—offer vastness, but Elden Ring makes vastness feel personal. You don’t need to measure it; you feel it in every step, every glance upward.
So, what’s the takeaway? Elden Ring’s greatest open-world trick isn’t its size—it’s how it hides that size in plain sight. You’re too caught up slaying demigods or dodging rot to clock the math. FromSoftware crafted a playground where scale amplifies adventure, not just square footage. Next time you’re galloping across Liurnia or staring down the Erdtree, take a beat. The Lands Between isn’t just big—it’s a masterclass in making you forget how small you are until you triumph anyway. That’s the magic most of us missed, and it’s why this game’s still got us talking three years later.