Some attention must be given to King Seonggu, whom we know presently as a king who, in less dire times of obedience and harmony, could have ensured that the Sindeok would flourish for another hundred years. Indeed, when compared to his predecessor, Seonggu would have ended all the quarrelling and squabbling between nobles, dampened pride and stamped out disobedience, and perhaps won back the peasantry with violence and virtue alike — if he had his way. When he ascended to the throne of Nanwian, he had great plans in mind: taxation reforms, religious standardisation, reforms to the army and the military infrastructures, reductions to the powers of the nobles and gentries, new offices and ministries of state… all these he would have instituted, were it not for the faults of his predecessor, and his predecessor’s predecessor, and so on. 

Seonggu did not meet Lee Jinki prior to the campaign of Silsa, for the General had already been campaigning close to the Jangseong when the decree was sent to him. If the King had met with the General, he might have learned from Jinki the sickness of the Crown armies, and how it had rotted so thoroughly from within that it would take a revolution of the country to cure it. Seonggu would have learned of the famine within the army; the pig-iron cannons; the hoarding of supplies and funds by local gentries and nobles; and the corrupt commissioners and officers in the ranks. Perhaps then Seonggu would have understood Jinki’s slow advance and his refusal to issue from Silsa and take on the main head of the rebellion — not due to lack of numbers, but the weakness of his troops measured against the great impetus of the Sage’s legions. Or perhaps Seonggu still would not have understood; for in his mind multitudes of other crises wracked havoc on his soul. The Sindeok was like a block of cheese that was riddled with so many holes that were interlinked and connected to each other that to really fill one hole he would have to fill them all at once. 

In truth Seonggu felt as lonely as his General of the Armies. To put down the rebellion he needed to reform the military apparatuses, but to reform the military apparatuses he had to stamp out corruption and compel the gentries and nobles to contribute to the Crown armies, but to do that he needed to eliminate the court factions that allowed licentiousness and disobedience, but to do that he needed to build up an army powerful enough to terrorise the court factions, but to do that… etc. Not a single one of these problems he could tackle without considering the others; not a single plan he could commence implementation without worrying about their consequences on all others. For many sleepless nights Seonggu pondered and calculated without end, but the end to his troubles was never conceivable, and only a month into his reign he appeared to have aged by several years. The King therefore suffered under the burden of regrets, bitterness, and hatred, and did that which people in times of failure and disaster do when they possess too much faith in themselves: he looked for the guilty. The entire Sindeok was to blame: the religious establishment, all the estates, his predecessors, the entire court in Anju, and the aristocratic structure of the State. But when it came to who was ultimately responsible for all his suffering Seonggu turned back onto himself, blaming his own inaction before his coronation; lack of foresight; ill-preparedness of his own personal retinue, and many other faults that had only become apparent in hindsight. He also blamed his own weakness, for it was out of the inaction of Jinki that he had been forced to agree to the peace embassy led by the eunuch Jinsung, even though it made his blood boil to think that the Sage who had unleashed so much evil on his country would be satisfied and rewarded.

Confounding this further was the lack of news from Ansu. Broadly, all Seonggu knew was