8 Best Solo Leveling Replacements Fans Need To Watch In 2026

The hype around Solo Leveling is still going strong well into 2026. Fans can’t get enough of the anime’s rush. Watching Sung Jinwoo start as the weakest hunter, grind through dangerous dungeons, and unlock ridiculous powers one level at a time makes for an addictive viewing experience.

When stuck waiting for more episodes or chapters, it’s natural to hunt for other shows that deliver the same kind of satisfaction, with overpowered protagonists who earn their strength, intense monster fights, and clever power systems. Only a couple of anime effectively satisfy these qualities.

This list pulls together eight solid alternatives that capture at least some of those key elements. They’re a mix of established series that have been fan favorites for years and newer ones that echo the same energy of rapid growth, epic confrontations, and world-building that rewards investment.

Dandadan

Momo Ayase and Okarun (Ken Takakura) make a dumb bet about whether ghosts or aliens are real. Both get possessed/cursed as a result, and end up fighting yokai, spirits, and everything else that crosses their path. Between both characters, Dandadan blends occult powers, extraterrestrial weirdness, martial arts, and sheer absurdity in ways that keep escalating.

Every encounter feels fresh because the threats are so bizarre and the solutions even more so. The animation from Science Saru is a standout —fluid, exaggerated, colorful sequences that make every punch, dodge, or transformation pop off the screen. Characters pick up abilities under the most ridiculous circumstances, leading to confrontations that are equal parts hilarious and intense.

The humor lands consistently, often cutting through the tension at just the right moments, while the creativity never lets things feel repetitive. Dandadan gives nonstop energy, wild action, and a series that refuses to take itself too seriously. Unlike other new-gen anime, Dandadan is the perfect high-octane breath of fresh air anime needed.

The Rising of the Shield Hero

The Rising of the Shield Hero hooks viewers with one of the roughest starts an isekai protagonist ever gets. Naofumi Iwatani is summoned as the Shield Hero, one of four legendary heroes, and is almost immediately betrayed, framed, and left with nothing but his shield and a mountain of debt and distrust.

From day one, the kingdom he is summoned to treats him as subhuman, forcing him to scrape by, build a party from outcasts, and prepare for these massive “waves” of catastrophic monsters. His journey is all about clawing back dignity and strength while protecting the few people who actually believe in him.

Battles shift from brute force to clever problem-solving. He has to think tactically, coordinate with his companions, and use every trick at his disposal. The emotional side resonates hard: Naofumi’s bitterness slowly gives way to trust, growth, and a real sense of redemption. The show is a classic underdog story done right, with stakes that feel personal even as world-ending threats roll in.

Overlord

Unlike Solo Leveling, Overlord goes in the opposite direction, starting at the top and staying there. Momonga logs out of his MMORPG one last time, but the servers shut down, and he’s stuck inside as his max-level undead overlord character, Ainz Ooal Gown, with his entire guild’s NPC army still loyal and treating him like an infallible god.

There’s no grinding or underdog story. Ainz is already brokenly powerful, and the series is about what happens when someone with that kind of strength explores a real world full of weaker beings. He conquers, experiments, and accidentally builds a terrifying reputation because his followers misinterpret his every cautious move as genius-level scheming.

Overlord is a refreshing change from endless hero climbs; here, the question is what absolute power does to someone who never wanted to be a villain in the first place. For fans and viewers who prefer power fantasies taken to logical, sometimes uncomfortable extremes, Overlord delivers that in a way that’s hard to find elsewhere.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime does something different with the isekai genre by making the whole thing feel like a calculated build-up rather than a quick power trip. Satoru Mikami gets killed in the modern world and respawns as Rimuru, a little slime blob that can swallow enemies and steal their abilities.

His journey starts by trying to stay alive in a dangerous forest, until he befriends the Storm Dragon, Veldora, and somehow absorbs him. With newfound extraordinary power, Rimuru slowly puts together a settlement from scratch. Those first episodes are the strongest because they show ingenuity: he’s not instantly godlike; he experiments, makes mistakes, builds trust one conversation at a time.

Later on, the scope widens into full-nation management diplomacy with human kingdoms, monster alliances, and full-scale wars, and Rimuru ends up ridiculously strong through a mix of absorbed skills, clever subordinates, and his own evolving unique abilities. For those who enjoy watching progression systems unfold, towns grow into cities this scratches that itch really well.

Tower of God

Tower of God goes for something slower and more sprawling: a mysterious, endless Tower full of deadly trials, where climbing means surviving floors that test everything. Bam starts as this sheltered, naive kid chasing after Rachel. Each level throws new rules, new dangers, new alliances, and new betrayals at his strength, strategy, trust, and betrayal, all mixed.

Power comes from controlling shinsoo, and the pecking order (regulars vs. rankers vs. the untouchable high-rankers) makes every win or loss carry weight in the bigger picture. What pulls viewers through is watching Bam change. He begins weak and trusting, gets crushed by the Tower’s cruelty, then rebuilds himself harder, sharper, sometimes darker through every betrayal and narrow escape.

The adaptation keeps that addictive “one more floor” pull: it starts deliberate, then snowballs into something huge and hard to step away from. Both shows understand the same thing; the real hook isn’t just the spectacle; it’s seeing regular people get broken down and forged into something stronger when everything’s stacked against them.

Kaiju No. 8

Kafka in episode 15 — Kaiju-No-8-Episode-15-Kafka

Kaiju No. 8 gives the giant-monster battles most people come looking for, but it wraps them around a story that actually feels personal. Kafka Hibino accidentally gets the power to turn into one himself. He still joins the Defense Force and starts fighting the creatures he’s now half made of.

That premise alone sets it apart: he’s not some hot-blooded teen prodigy; he’s an average guy finally getting his shot, late and messy. The fights work because they don’t just rely on size and noise. Individual moments shine too: desperate power surges, clutch saves, Kafka figuring out how to use his own monster side without losing control.

His arc hits the classic underdog-to-key-player notes, but it earns every step through setbacks, close calls, and actual growth. The animation keeps the energy high, maintains a good sense of scale, delivers smooth movement when it counts, features creative monster designs that don’t repeat themselves, and builds tension episode to episode as the threats get bigger and more personal.

Chainsaw Man

Chainsaw Man deliberately subverts the typical shonen power-fantasy setup while never skimping on the blood, mayhem, or sheer strangeness. Denji begins as a dirt-poor teenager scraping by, until he merges with Pochita, the Chainsaw Devil, becoming a chainsaw-headed hybrid.

From there, he gets pulled into a government devil-hunting division, where he’s sent after other devils in exchange for the promise of food, shelter, and maybe someday something resembling a normal life or even affection. The world feels lived-in and grimy right from the opening scenes; nothing is polished or heroic in the conventional sense.

Humor cuts through at the most inappropriate moments, absurd jokes, crude thoughts, and deadpan reactions, making the darkness hit harder rather than undercutting it. Chainsaw Man ramps up the intensity and stakes without losing track of the broken people at the center, delivering a tone that veers wildly between exhilarating chaos, quiet heartbreak, and black comedy, yet somehow holds together with purpose.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jujutsu Kaisen pulls one in immediately with its unflinching brutality and the constant menace of its supernatural world. Yuji Itadori, an ordinary high-school student, swallows a cursed object to save his friends and finds himself plunged into a hidden society of jujutsu sorcerers who battle grotesque curse manifestations of humanity’s worst negative emotions.

The series balances outright horrorgraphic body transformations, psychological torment, and the ever-present risk of permanent loss with relentless, high-energy combat that keeps momentum high across arcs. MAPPA’s animation rarely disappoints: the choreography is fluid, the color palette sharp and moody, and the direction knows exactly how to frame an impact so it lands hard.

If there’s a preference for stories that blend monster hunting with a dark atmosphere and don’t shy away from real stakes or bloodshed, Jujutsu Kaisen sustains that intensity season after season. It delivers consistent adrenaline while giving its cast and world enough depth that the experience feels substantial rather than merely exciting.