This is the prime reason one would consider the likes of Slavia or Virtus, for that matter. The Slavia comes with either a 1.0‑liter three‑cylinder or a 1.5‑liter four‑cylinder engine, making about 114 and 150 hp, respectively. You get a manual transmission with both variants—a six‑speed torque converter with the 1.0‑liter, or a dry‑clutch DCT with the 1.5‑liter version.

We drove the 1.0/torque converter combo and found it to be a deeply impressive and balanced powertrain combination.

Just like the Kylaq we drove, the Slavia with its 1.0‑liter engine excels in containing engine NVH, barring a slight judder during startup. The gearbox had no problem selecting the right gear at the right time and worked flawlessly during our usual Udyog Vihar–Azadpur–GT Karnal Road test route.

There is a noticeable and understandable turbo lag before 2000 rpm, after which the power builds up until about 5600 rpm or so. The braking—despite being drums (even in the top trim)—is impressive but would have been even better with an all‑disc setup.

Being a sedan, the Slavia has a naturally long wheelbase, which felt more at ease during high‑speed lane changes than the Kylaq we drove. Going over Gurgaon potholes was a less unsettling experience than we expected. Despite being on the same platform, I could feel that the Slavia was a bit more comfortable than the Virtus over rough patches, and I have driven both now.

Fuel economy with turbo petrol engines is very throttle‑sensitive. The owner manages about 11 kmpl in the city and 14 kmpl on the highway, while I managed to ease off the throttle pedal and got over 17.7 kmpl at 75–85 kmph on the way back.

Although a black interior would have been appreciated, the beige and black color scheme in our Slavia looked sharp regardless. Compared to the Virtus—whose interior and touchscreens felt chunky and cohesive—the Slavia had a sharp and slim vibe. The touchscreen looked like an afterthought, though!

The seats were pretty wide and supportive and came in black fabric with an embossed pattern, which I suppose will be a lot easier to maintain than those wheels. The manual adjustment is there and works flawlessly compared to the super‑slow electric adjustable system you get on the Prestige and Monte Carlo variants.

The leather‑wrapped steering wheel felt nice to touch, and the beige color spread throughout the door cards and lower dash added a much‑needed sense of openness. So did the massive sunroof over our heads, which we kept closed due to sudden dusty winds in Gurgaon for the past 3–4 days.

The interior is simple but well‑built. Minor creaking from the dash was present but only at speeds above 70 kmph. Skoda has given the dash a tri‑tone color palette with gloss black, beige, and chrome accents, which looks quite posh until the dust settles on it.

The rear seats are similar, with plenty of headroom, knee room, and wiggle space for five healthy passengers.

Skoda has provided smart storage cubbies and space almost everywhere. We also appreciated premium features like a cooled glovebox, rear AC vents, Type‑C ports, and an old‑school but much better‑looking analogue gauge cluster.

Infotainment duties are handled by a big touchscreen in the middle, which comes with must‑haves like wireless Android Auto/CarPlay and a very loud but okay‑ish sounding 8‑speaker system (you get a subwoofer in the Prestige and Monte Carlo trims).

We found the touchscreen to have a slightly delayed response but it worked without any judder or lag whatsoever. Just don't expect quick scrolling through the menus, though.

Everyone except previous Skoda owners will find the AC power a bit underwhelming—especially if you are coming from Mahindra cars. We had to turn off the cooled glovebox for maximum performance.

Also, don’t expect the ergonomics of AC control to impress you—the touch control is a very stupid idea for HVAC controls—but thankfully, we had AUTO AC.

The Slavia Sportline we reviewed (Skoda has revised their naming schemes) looked sharp in black‑on‑black. We had to confirm that the model we drove was not modified or anything—such was the level of blacked‑out bits spread throughout the car. Skoda has done a pretty good job of discerning its own identity despite being based on a similar MQB platform as its in‑house rival Virtus.

Virtus may be timeless, but Slavia is love at first sight. The front of the Sportline 1.0 AT we drove has gloss‑black grille mirror covers and a front lip. The fake lower grille was an eyesore on closer inspection, but it matched the overall Batmobile‑esque aesthetic of our Slavia review unit, which our co‑worker Jaswinder loaned to us.

Styling is a subjective choice, but as far as Slavia is concerned, everyone on our team had nothing but praise. The only problem I had with the gloss‑black 16‑inch wheels was that they were gloss black and looked horrible in the dust‑abundant Haryana region; in my opinion, the wheels should have been matte‑colored.

Even Jaswinder admitted that maintaining those wheels was a chore on its own!
Skoda also darkened the taillamps and chrome door handles to further match the blacked‑out vibe of the Slavia; in terms of details, matte finishes and other touches, Skoda nailed almost all of them.

Across all variants, you get a 5‑star GNCAP rating thanks to features like ABS, TCS, ESC, 6 airbags, and a solid steel body. No ADAS features in variants costing around 20 lakhs is a big miss in my book.

The styling and availability are the only two things separating the Slavia and Virtus when it comes to buying decisions.

Now that I have tested both, I found the Slavia to be much more eye‑catching and slightly more comfortable than the Virtus. That being said, it is a remarkable balance of power, comfort, and practicality that Skoda has nailed for the first time in the brand's storied history in India.