What Are The Most Iconic Griffith X Guts Scenes In The Manga?

Man, the scenes between Griffith and Guts are the reason I’m hooked on every single reread of 'Berserk'. If I had to list the most iconic ones from a cinematic, panel-by-panel perspective, I'd pick: their first fateful duel that brings Guts into the Band of the Hawk, the gutting farewell when Guts decides to leave, Griffith’s capture and the slow, brutal unraveling that follows, the Eclipse (which is nightmarish and visually arresting), and Griffith’s rebirth as Femto — each of these reads like a set piece with its own soundtrack in my head.

The opening duel works as an inciting scene that’s both action-packed and emotionally resonant. The framing, expressions, and the quiet moments after the clash give it a movie-trailer quality — you sense destiny being forged. Guts joining the Hawks after that duel shifts the camera to long-term intimacy, and Miura stages their camaraderie so well that you actually feel comfortable with them as friends… until the tension starts to bubble beneath the surface.

The farewell when Guts leaves is my personal favorite for raw drama. The way panels linger on tiny things — a hand, a look, a small tremor in Griffith's voice — makes the scene deafeningly loud emotionally. Griffith’s breakdown there is shot like a close-up on a face cracking; his vulnerability is so exposed you can audibly hear the stakes rising. From there, Griffith’s imprisonment becomes a dark montage of loss, and when the Eclipse happens it’s edited in a way that’s both grotesque and hypnotic: horror cinema in comic form. The betrayal lands like a cut you can’t stitch yourself out of.

Finally, Griffith’s rebirth into something beyond human is framed with so much visual swagger — it’s majestic and horrifying at once — and that juxtaposition is what makes it resonate. Even now, when I flip to those pages late at night, I feel the same tightness in my chest. There’s a cinematic rhythm to their story: build intimacy, snap it, plunge into nightmare, and then show the new order. It’s brutal, stunning, and impossible to forget, and I’m always left with this weird mixture of admiration and disgust that keeps me coming back.

There are a handful of moments in 'Berserk' that hit me in the chest every time I flip back to them — the chemistry between Griffith and Guts isn’t just plot, it’s emotional dynamite. My take is pretty sentimental: the scenes that keep looping in my head are the duel that pulls Guts into the Band of the Hawk, the lonely farewell when Guts leaves, Griffith’s slow implosion during his imprisonment, the Eclipse with all its horror and betrayal, and the cold rebirth of Griffith as something beyond human. Each one feels like a turning point that rewrites their relationship in a new, painful register.

The duel that results in Guts joining the Hawks is surprisingly intimate for a battlefield moment. It's not just about skill; it’s the first real recognition between two people who will shape each other's lives. Griffith’s reaction after that fight — the way he regards Guts — has layers: admiration, calculation, and maybe a flicker of something like longing. That early chemistry sets up everything that follows, and every later scene pulls emotional weight from that first mutual awareness.

Guts leaving is what I always come back to when I feel melancholic. The goodbye scene where Guts decides to go his own way is tender and jagged: they both split open. Griffith breaks in a manner that felt so human to me — not theatrical, but raw. He begs, he crumbles, and it becomes clear that his dream isn’t purely political; it’s tied up with people like Guts. That vulnerability is part of why the later betrayal cuts so deep. When Griffith is later captured and tortured, that physical ruin is heartbreaking because of who he was with Guts standing in his light earlier. The sequence of his fall in captivity — the strips of dignity being removed — makes his later choices feel like tragedy mixed with inevitability.

And then there’s the Eclipse, which sits at the center of every discussion about Griffith and Guts. It’s horrific, cathartic, and devastating, because it shows Griffith choosing a terrifying path to achieve his dream, and it reveals the sheer difference between what he once was and what he becomes. Watching him ascend as Femto, seeing him turn his back on human ties, and the way Guts reacts — rage, disbelief, helplessness — is a knot I can’t untangle when I reread those pages. After that, even small scenes where they are in the same frame carry a universe of meaning. The contrast between what was and what is now is why these scenes have stuck with me for years; they’re less about plot beats and more about the ache of what we lose when ambition and love collide.

Sometimes when I think about the Griffith–Guts dynamic in 'Berserk', I look at it like literature class in the best possible way: full of symbolism, tragic irony, and character eclipses that haunt you. From my angle, the most iconic scenes are those that reveal shifts in power and identity — the initial recruitment duel, the moment Guts declares he will leave (and Griffith's desperate, human unraveling), the scenes of Griffith's capture and torture, the ceremonial horror of the Eclipse, and Griffith's resurrection and transformation into something godlike yet monstrous. Each of these scenes reframes the narrative lens and tests the moral fiber of the characters.

The duel that leads to Guts joining the Band of the Hawk feels almost like a compact: two warriors meet and recognize a mirror. It’s not mere recruitment; it’s the beginning of a mutual shaping. Fast forward, and Guts’ decision to leave challenges Griffith’s ideology — his dream depends on others being instruments and allies, and Guts walking away exposes a vulnerability Griffith might not have had a language for. The farewell is small but seismic: a personal rupture that ripples outward into politics and fate.

Griffith’s imprisonment and degradation are harrowing not just for the physicality but for how much they strip away the constructed image of him. There’s a pathos to those scenes that makes his later choices comprehensible even if not excusable. The Eclipse functions as a catastrophic pivot — ritual, sacrifice, metamorphosis — and what makes it iconic is how it reframes loyalty, ambition, and identity in one violent sweep. Griffith becoming Femto is less the end of Griffith and more the final metamorphosis of what the dream demanded. It’s literary in the worst and most brilliant sense: mythic, terrible, and unforgettable.

I still find myself returning to smaller moments after rereading the big beats — the way Griffith watches Guts in quieter panels, or how Guts’ rage and grief settle into something slower and enduring afterward. Those micro-interactions keep the relationship alive in my head because they remind me that the tragedy wasn’t just in the big spectacle; it was in the human stuff between the panels, the things you could miss if you only skim for plot.