You have already had your say on the very best Zelda games because we observe the series’ 30th anniversary – and you also did a mighty good job also, even if I am fairly certain A Link to the Past goes at the head of any list – so now it’s our turn. We requested the Eurogamer editorial staff to vote for their favourite Zelda games (although Wes abstained since he still doesn’t understand what a Nintendo is) and below you’ll find the whole top ten, along with a number of our own musings. Can we get the games in their real order? Probably not…


How brilliantly contradictory that one of the best original games on Nintendo’s 3DS would be a 2D adventure sport, which one of the most daring Zelda entrances would be the one that closely aped among its predecessors.

It helps, of course, that the template has been raised from a number of the best games in the show also, by extension, one of the best games of all time. A Link Between Worlds takes all that and even positively sprints with it, running free into the familiar expanse of Hyrule with a newfound liberty.

In giving you the ability to let any of Link’s well-established tools in the away, A Link Between Worlds broke free of this linear progression that had reverted past Zelda games; that was a Hyrule which was no more characterized by an invisible path, but one which offered a feeling of discovery and absolutely free will that was beginning to feel absent in prior can find more here legend of zelda phantom hourglass ds rom from Our Articles The sense of adventure so dear to the show, muffled in the past several years by the ritual of reproduction, was well and truly restored. MR

9. Spirit Tracks

A unfortunate side-effect of the fact that more than 1 generation of gamers has increased up with Zelda and refused to let go has been an insistence – during the series’ adolescence, at any rate – that it develop them. That resulted in some fascinating places as well as some ridiculous tussles over the series’ direction, as we’ll see later in this listing, but sometimes it threatened to leave Zelda’s original constituency – you know, kids – supporting.

Thankfully, the portable games are there to look after younger gamers, and Spirit Tracks for its DS (currently accessible on Wii U Virtual Console) is Zelda in its chirpy and adorable. Though superbly designed, it’s not an especially distinguished game, being a comparatively hasty and gimmicky follow-up to Phantom Hourglass that copies its structure and flowing stylus control. But it has such zest! Link uses a tiny train to get around and its puffing and tooting, together with an inspired folk music soundtrack, place a lively tempo for the experience. Then there is the childish, tactile pleasure of driving that the train: setting the throttle, yanking the whistle and scribbling destinations on your map.

Link has to save her body, but her spirit is with him as a constant companion, occasionally able to possess enemy soldiers and play the barbarous heavy. The two even enjoy an innocent youth love, and you’d be hard pushed to think of another game that has caught the teasing, blushing intensity of a preteen crush also. Inclusive and candy, Spirit Tracks recalls that kids have feelings too, and also may show grownups something or two about love. OW

8. Ghost Hourglass

In my head, at least, there has long been a furious debate going on as to whether Link, Hero of Hyrule, is actually any good using a boomerang. He’s been wielding the faithful, banana-shaped bit of wood because his first adventure, but in my experience it’s only ever been a pain in the arse to use.

The exception which proves the rule, nevertheless, is Phantom Hourglass, where you draw on the path for your boomerang through the hand. Poking the stylus in the touch display (which, at an equally lovely move, is how you command your own sword), you draw an exact flight map for the boomerang and then it just… goes. No faffing about, no more clanging into columns, just simple, straightforward, improbably responsive boomerang trip. It was when I first used the boomerang at Phantom Hourglass that I realised this game might just be something special; I immediately fell in love with the remainder.

Never mind that viewing a few game back to refresh my memory gave me strong flashbacks to the hours spent huddling on the screen and grasping my DS like that I needed to throttle it. The purpose is that Phantom Hourglass had traces of course that remain – and I’m going to go out on a limb here – totally unrivalled in the rest of the Legend of Zelda series. JC

7. Skyward Sword

Skyward Sword is maddeningly close to having good. It bins the recognizable Zelda overworld and set of discrete dungeons by hurling three enormous areas at the participant that are continuously rearranged. It is a beautiful game – one I am still hoping will probably be remade in HD – whose watercolour visuals leave a glistening, dream-like haze within its blue heavens and brush-daubed foliage. Following the filthy, Lord of this Rings-inspired Twilight Princess, this was the Zelda series re-finding its own feet. I am able to shield many of recognizable criticisms levelled at Skyward Sword, such as its overly-knowing nods to the rest of the series or its slightly forced origin narrative that retcons familiar elements of this franchise. I can even get behind the bigger overall amount of area to research when the game always revitalises all its three regions so ardently.

I could not, unfortunately, ever get in addition to the game’s Motion Plus controllers, which demanded one to waggle your Wii Remote in order to do battle. It turned the boss fights against the brilliantly bizarre Ghirahim into infuriating fights using technology. Into baskets that made me anger stop for the remainder of the night. Sometimes the movement controls worked – the flying Beetle thing pretty much always found its mark – but if Nintendo was forcing players to leave behind the reliability of a control strategy, its replacement had to work 100 per cent of their time. TP

6. Twilight Princess

I was also pretty bad in Zelda games. I could stumble my way through the Great Deku Tree and the Fire Temple okay but, from the time Connect dove headlong into the fantastic Jabu Jabu’s belly, my want to have fun with Ocarina of Time easily began outstripping the fun I was really having.

When Twilight Princess wrapped around, I had been at college and also something in me – most likely a profound romance – was ready to try again. This time, it worked. I recall day-long stretches on the sofa, huddling under a blanket in my cold apartment and just poking my hands out to flap around using the Wii distant during combat. Subsequently there was the glorious morning if my then-girlfriend (now fiancée) awakened me with a gentle shake, so asking’can I watch you play Zelda?’

Twilight Lady is, frankly, captivating. There is a fantastic, brooding feeling; yet the gameplay is enormously varied; it has got a beautiful art design, one that I wish they had kept for only one more match. It has also got a number of the best dungeons in the show – I know this because since then I’ve been able to return and mop the current names I missed – Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask and Wind Waker – and enjoy myself doing this. That’s why I’ll always adore Twilight Princess – it’s the sport that made me click with Zelda. JC


But some of its best moments have come when it stepped out its framework, left Hyrule and then Zelda herself behind, and inquired what Link could perform next. Even the self-referential Link’s Awakening has been one, and that N64 sequel to Ocarina of Time a different. It required a much more revolutionary tack: bizarre, dark, and experimental.

Even though there’s loads of humor and adventure, Majora’s Mask is suffused with doom, sorrow, and an off-kilter eeriness. Some of this comes out of its admittedly awkward timed structure: the moon is falling around the Earth, that the clock is ticking and you can’t stop it, only rewind and start again, a little stronger and more threatening each time. Some of it stems in the antagonist, the Skull Kid, who’s no villain but an innocent having a sad story who has given in to the corrupting effect of the titular mask. A number of this comes from Link himself: a kid again but with the increased man of Ocarina still somewhere within himhe rides rootlessly to the land of Termina like he’s got no better place to be, so far from your hero of legend.

Regardless of an unforgettable, most surreal conclusion, Majora’s Mask’s primary storyline is not among the series’ most powerful. However, these bothering Groundhog Day subplots concerning the strain of regular life – loss, love, family, work, and death, always death – locate the series’ writing at its absolute best. It is a melancholy, compassionate fairytale of this everyday that, using its own ticking clock, wants to remind you that you can not take it with you. OW


If you have had children, you are going to be aware that there’s incredibly strange and touching moment when you’re doing laundry – stay with me – and those tiny T-shirts and pants first begin to turn up on your washing. Someone new has come to dwell with you! Someone implausibly small.

This is one of The Wind-Waker’s best tips, I think. Link was young before, but now, with the gloriously toon-shaded shift in art direction, he really appears young: a Schulz toddler, with huge head and little legs, venturing out among Moblins and pirates as well as these mad birds that roost around the clifftops. Connect is tiny and exposed, and thus the experience surrounding him sounds all the more stirring.

Another fantastic trick has a lot to do with these pirates. «What is the Overworld?» This has become the normal Zelda query since Link to the Past, but with all the Wind-Waker, there did not appear to be just one: no alternative measurement, no switching between time-frames. The sea has been contentious: so much racing back and forth across a massive map, so much time spent in crossing. But look at what it brings along with it! It attracts pirates and sunken treasures and ghost ships. It brings underwater grottoes and a castle awaiting you at a bubble of air back on the seabed.

On top of that, it attracts unending sense of renewal and discovery, 1 challenge down along with another awaiting, as you hop from your ship and race up the sand towards another thing, your legs popping through the surf, your huge eyes already fixed on the horizon. CD


Link’s Awakening is near-enough a excellent Zelda game – it’s a vast and secret-laden overworld, sparkling dungeon design and unforgettable characters. In addition, it is a catalyst dream-set side-story with villages of talking animals, side-scrolling places starring Mario enemies and a giant fish who participates the mambo. It was my first Zelda experience, my entry point to the series and the game where I judge every other Zelda title. I totally adore it. Not only was it my first Zelda, its own greyscale universe was among the first adventure games I playedwith.

There’s no Zelda, no Ganon. No Guru Sword. And while it feels like a Zelda, even after playing many of the other people, its own quirks and personalities set it aside. Link’s Awakening packs an astounding amount onto its small Game Boy capsule (or even Game Boy Color, if you played its DX re-release). TP

2. The Legend of Zelda: Link to the Past

Bottles are OP at Zelda. These little glass containers can reverse the tide of a battle if they have a potion or even better – a fairy. When I had been Ganon, I would postpone the wicked plotting and also the dimension rifting, and I’d just put a good fortnight into traveling Hyrule from top to base and smashing any glass bottles I came across. After that, my dreadful vengeance are all the more dreadful – and there would be a sporting chance that I may be able to pull off it also.

All of which means that, as Link, a bottle may be real reward. Real treasure. Something to put in your watch by. I believe there are four glass bottles in Link to the Past, each one making you that little more powerful and that little bolder, buying you confidence in dungeoneering and hit points in the center of a bruising boss encounter. I can’t remember where you get three of the bottles. But I can remember where you get the fourth.

It’s Lake Hylia, and when you’re like me, it’s late in the game, with the major ticket items collected, that wonderful, genre-defining minute near the top of the mountain – in which a single map becomes two – taken care of, along with handfuls of compact, ingenious, infuriating and educational dungeons raided. Late game Connect to the Past is about looking out every last inch of this map, so working out the way the two similar-but-different versions of Hyrule fit together.

And there’s a difference. An gap in Lake Hylia. An gap hidden by a bridge. And under it, a man blowing smoke rings with a campfire. He feels like the greatest key in all Hyrule, and the prize for uncovering him is a glass container, perfect for storing a potion – or even a fairy.

Connect to the Past seems like an impossibly clever match, divides its map into two measurements and asking you to distinguish between them, holding both arenas super-positioned in mind as you resolve a single, enormous geographical mystery. In fact, though, someone could probably copy this layout when they had enough pens, sufficient quadrille paper, sufficient time and energy, and if they were smart and determined enough.

The greatest loss of the digital age.

However, Link to the Past isn’t simply the map – it’s the detailing, and the characters. It is Ganon and his wicked plot, but it’s also the man camping out beneath the bridge. Maybe the entire thing is somewhat like a bottle, then: that the container is more critical, but what you’re really after is that the stuff that’s inside . CD


Where would you start with a game since momentous as Ocarina of Time? Maybe with all the Z-Targeting, a remedy to 3D combat so simple you hardly notice it’s there. Or maybe you talk about a open world that is touched by the light and shade cast by an inner clock, where villages dancing with action by day prior to being captured by an eerie lull through the night. How about the expressiveness of that ocarina itself, a superbly analogue instrument whose music has been conducted by the newest control afforded by the N64’s pad, which notes flexed wistfully at the push of a pole.

Maybe, though, you just focus on the second itself, a perfect picture of video games appearing sharply from their own adolescence just as Connect is throw so suddenly in a grownup world. What’s most noteworthy about Ocarina of Time is the way it arrived therefore fully-formed, the 2D adventuring of previous entries transitioning into three dimensions as gracefully as a pop-up novel folding quickly into existence.

As a result of Grezzo’s unique 3DS remake it’s retained much of its verve and impact, and even setting aside its technical accomplishments it’s an adventure that still ranks among the series’ best; emotional and uplifting, it has touched with the bittersweet melancholy of climbing up and leaving the childhood behind. By the story’s end Link’s childhood and innocence – and which of Hyrule – is heroically restored, but once that most radical of reinventions, video games could not ever be the exact same again.