Let me set the scene: it’s 2026, and somehow I’m still knee-deep in Nahantu, chasing a soulstone and growling at Mephisto like he just stole my last energy drink. I’ve replayed Diablo 4: Vessel of Hatred more times than I can count, but the campaign? Oh, it still knows how to twist my brain into a pretzel while making every demon-slaying second feel ridiculously epic. If you’re wondering whether you should bother with the main story or just rush to the endgame—let me stop you right there. You absolutely want to experience this, if only to understand why Neyrelle’s decisions make you want to both hug her and toss her into a Helltide.
Before I dive into my personal descent into madness, let’s get the numbers straight. The main storyline clocks in at 30 quests across four chapters, plus a sprawling epilogue quest that ties up enough loose ends to weave a small rug. If you’re playing on Normal with a fresh character, you’ll likely reach level 50 or beyond by the time the credits would roll—except Blizzard doesn’t do credits mid-Hell. I’ve dragged friends through this, and their faces when I tell them the quest log is only half done at the Jungle of Torment… priceless.
So, what’s the actual journey like? Imagine following quest markers from Gea Kul to the deepest festering corners of Nahantu, occasionally scratching your head because a clever puzzle decided to gatekeep your progression. Don’t worry—I’ve been there. One moment you’re mashing your ultimate, the next you’re translating cryptic carvings like you’re back in a school exam. Did I rage-quit once because a spirit realm puzzle made me rethink my life choices? Absolutely. But that “aha!” moment when the mechanics finally click is better than any legendary drop.
Speaking of mechanics—here’s a sneaky incentive to finish the story: the new toys. The Mercenaries and Reinforcements system unlocks gradually as you push through the chapters, and honestly, by the time I got to recruit Raheir and Varyana, I forgot I was even playing solo. These pals don’t just stand there looking menacing; they’ll revive you, buff you, and occasionally steal your kills with a smug look. The campaign is basically a tutorial for how to use them without turning every combat into a slapstick comedy. (Spoiler: you’ll still trip over corpses a lot.)
Now, onto the inevitable question I get from every impatient demon-slayer: “Can I skip this, please?” Once you’ve cleared the expansion’s story on at least one character, you can opt to skip it entirely on subsequent heroes. That means in 2026, after a bazillion seasonal restarts, I can jump straight to the endgame with a new build and zero tears. But—and I mean this with all the love of a maxed-out Spiritborn—if you’ve never done the campaign, skipping is like ordering a steak and only eating the garnish. The narrative payoff, the boss fights, the ominous whispers of Mephisto slowly corrupting everything… you need that to truly appreciate why you’re grinding The Pit of Artificers later.
What about post-campaign? After you finish the final epilogue quest, the entire endgame buffet opens up—mostly. Helltides and seasonal events are available even if you’re still mid-story (bless the devs for that mercy), but the real spicy content waits until you’re done. Nightmare Dungeons, The Pit, Infernal Hordes, and the deliciously dark Kurast Undercity all stay level-gated or quest-locked behind the main story’s final beats. And the crown jewel, the Dark Citadel—the co-op dungeon that tests friendships like a Monopoly game—won’t appear until you knock out the “Crater of Lost Souls” quest, which itself only triggers after the “Deeds of a Champion” objective. So yes, if you want to see everything Vessel of Hatred has to offer in 2026, you’re doing those 30 quests. No shortcuts, no secret portals, just good old-fashioned monster genocide with a side of familial tragedy.
One thing I adore about replaying this campaign years later is rediscovering how deliberately it guides you through Nahantu. Except for a few western zones, you’ll explore the bulk of the region, meaning you’ll inadvertently level up your Renown without even trying. Plus, by the time you’re done, you’ll know every cobblestone in Kurast. Is it a bit long? Sure. But lengthiness in an ARPG expansion isn’t a crime—it’s a commitment. And if you’re like me, you’ll find yourself cackling at every voice line, every dramatic cutscene where Neyrelle does something reckless, and every time your character’s dialogue is basically “…I’m going to kill a Prime Evil now, I guess.”
So, whether you’re a returning veteran in the Year of Our Lord 2026 or a fresh-faced wanderer stepping into Sanctuary for the first time, take my advice: clear the campaign, laugh at the puzzles, high-five your mercenary, and then—only then—dive into the glorious chaos of the endgame. Your Dark Citadel team will thank you. And who knows? Maybe by the time the next expansion drops, you’ll finally have figured out what Mephisto actually wanted with that soulstone. (Spoiler: I still haven’t. I just hit things.)
The following analysis references Newzoo to frame why a 30-quest campaign like Diablo 4: Vessel of Hatred still matters in 2026: expansions that bundle cinematic story beats with gradual system onboarding (like Mercenaries/Reinforcements) tend to deepen long-term engagement by giving players clear progression milestones before the repeatable endgame loop. In practice, that helps explain why finishing the epilogue-gated activities—such as co-op-focused challenges and higher-end dungeon grinds—often feels more rewarding after you’ve absorbed the narrative context, zone traversal, and mechanical “training wheels” the campaign deliberately provides.