The Joseon Empire

A tributary of the Ming dynasty, the Kingdom of Joseon on the Korean peninsula was one of the first regions dominated by the fledgling Manchu coalition that would one day establish the Qing dynasty. The nation was forced to end formal relations with the Ming in 1637, however they never truly allied themselves with their conquerors. Even as the Manchu hordes crushed the Ming rump states in the south, the scholars of Joseon asserted the cultural significance of the Middle Kingdom as part of their concept of Sojunghwa. The Kingdom of Joseon was the last vestige of true Chinese culture, even as the Qing attempted to emulate its trappings.

Joseon waited patiently for a century after their initial subjugation by the Manchu. In that time, they made many innovations in military technology, including advancements in firearms that pushed Korean rifles ahead of contemporary weaponry in Asia. They also acquired a large quantity of cannons and other military equipment through dealings with Russia, starting a centuries-long partnership between the two nations. The reign of the Qianlong Emperor (r.1735) in China saw the agitation of many minor powers in the region, as the young ruler attempted to prove himself through further expansion and consolidation. The Manchu ruler suppressed uprisings among regional minorities such as the Miao, and conquered both the Tibetans and the Dzungars, the latter of which were subjected to whole-sale slaughter. Even the Han majority of the empire grew restless under the Qianlong regime, as many communities in northern China were forced to relocate to serve the empire’s needs, and Han bannermen were supplanted in the military hierarchy. The Manchu had supplanted the status quo, and removed all avenues of meritocratic ascension. It was at this moment of widespread tension that the Koreans made their move.

The Qing Invasion of Burma in 1765 was the distraction needed for a Joseon offensive. King Yeongjo unified the quarreling factions of his court by directing their ire against the Qing usurpers, who had tarnished the legacy of the Middle Kingdom in the past few decades. Distracted by the conflict in the south, the Qianlong Emperor’s forces were not able to react to a sudden invasion at full strength, and lost ground against Korea. By spring of 1766, Yeongjo’s forces had pacified all of Manchuria, embarrassing the Qing overlords with the loss of their homeland. The Qianlong Emperor turned his focus northward, preparing a massive push to repel the treacherous tributary state. The sheer quantity of Qing troops could easily overwhelm the smaller yet advanced Joseon army, however the ill will spread amongst the minorities of the empire was coming to fruition. The Ush rebellion in Xinjiang gained a second wind, taking out multiple Manchu outposts. The Regent of the 8th Dalai Lama publicly announced his support for the Korean invasion, and many Tibetans resisted the Qing occupation of their territory by force. The final straw came as many Han dissidents rallied under the banner of Zheng Anfu, the great grandson of the Ming hero Koxinga. His family’s efforts to preserve the Ming made him the ideal leader to rally a homegrown effort to restore the land under a more “Chinese” regime.

The Manchu loyalists were forced to fight on dozens of fronts, unable to easily quell any opposing forces without losing ground elsewhere. The morale in Han regiments quickly deteriorated, especially after clashes with the Zheng faction. The Korean advance was able to press into Qing territory easily, as their elite army was far more organized. The Joseon fleet blockaded key port cities, and on occasion was able to harass moving armies by sailing up the Yangtze and Yellow rivers. In spite of all these advantages, the Joseon military was stretching increasingly thin, as their numbers could not effectively occupy the land as they marched on. Their hope was to augment their forces with disloyal Han regiments, however the allegiance of the populace was still with the Zheng faction, who had made strides in liberating the south. If Joseon wished to truly stamp out the Manchu regime, King Yeongjo would need to strike an accord with the local revolutionary.

In 1768, Zheng Anfu was delivered a missive drafted personally by the King of Joseon. The letter detailed the many common virtues of the two men, who were both born of the first generation following the collapse of the Southern Ming. Yeongjo emphasized the necessity of a strong Confucian society in the effort to restore the Middle Kingdom, and that he believed his state now held the Mandate of Heaven. In exchange for his rebellion’s support in installing Yeongjo as emperor, Zheng Anfu and the House of Koxinga would be granted control over Canton and the island of Taiwan, forming the vassal kingdom of Greater Tungning. Zheng accepted the deal, formally bending the knee to Yeongjo in the captured capital at Beijing on March 12th of the next year.

Over the next few years, the allied forces were able to coordinate their advances into Qing territory. The Manchu were losing control over their own government, with increasing numbers of officials kowtowing to the Joseon King, who now held many of the great cities of China. By the end of 1773, the vagrant remnants of the Qing military numbered under 10,000, and the Qianlong Emperor was ailing from both disease and malnourishment. Sensing the end was near, he utilized his last bargaining chip in order to ensure the survival of his remaining subjects. He returned to the capital with his forces, formally surrendering before Yeongjo. The emperor presented the King of Joseon the Imperial Seal, formally abdicating at his feet in the hope of granting his retinue clemency. It is said that the now stationless man, known only as Hongli, passed away mid bow to the new emperor of China. With his death, the Middle Kingdom was restored under the Joseon dynasty.

Emperor Yeongjo spent the remainder of his life stabilizing the newly formed dynasty, reintegrating many Ming-era institutions using the Qing infrastructure. He grew increasingly reliant on his grandson Jeongjo, who had been governing back in Korea since his move to Beijing. The Crown Prince had spent his time at home removing political enemies, as courtly intrigue had influenced the execution of his father, the former Crown Prince Sado. Jeongjo wanted all obstacles out of his way for his ascension to emperor, as the recovering realm was still too unstable to face another uprising. In order to maintain close ties with those who helped his grandfather take the throne, Jeongjo granted rewards to his allies in the north and south. Russia was granted market rights in the historic realm of Mongolia, placing the region under joint governance. The Crown Prince was also betrothed to a princess of the new Tungning Kingdom, tying the Korean bloodline into the greatest Han house. By the death of Yeongjo in 1776, the second Korean emperor was looked upon more favorably by his outer subjects than those back on the peninsula.

Jeongjo attempted to renew the focus on Confucianism within Chinese society, cultivating a strong administration through excessive bureaucratic exams. He emphasized the applicant’s merit over regional identity or family, reassuring the Han majority of the empire that they were equal to that of the Koreans. He also allowed extra authority among members of his court, limiting his own power to further put his people at ease. On a personal level, the emperor was a habitual reader, espousing the value of remaining current on the world’s knowledge. To promote the collection of information, the Joseon treasury funded the construction of dozens of provincial archives. These archives offered monetary compensation for any citizen who brought them family records, philosophical treatises, military documentation, and any missing works lost during the reclamation. This “scroll hunt” made Jeongjo-era Joseon the most efficient receptacle of knowledge on the planet. The secondary benefit of the collection was to centralize knowledge accessible to citizens across the empire, controlling access to more heretical texts, and presenting uniformity across disparate editions of the same information.

The ambitious Jeongjo did not live to see all of his projects complete, leaving his dreams for the Middle Kingdom to his son in 1800. On a nationwide level, the majority of Emperor Sunjo’s reign was a continuation of his father’s, with many of the projects he had funded being pushed to completion. Internal court affairs however soured, with familial factions vying for power over the young ruler’s regency. At the old capital of Suwon, Grand Dowager Jeongsun, a wife of the late Emperor Yeongjo, manipulated her great-grandson to prioritize Korean advisors in court, undercutting the meritocratic system of his father. This effort was often countered by the boy’s mother, Empress Dowager Zheng, who felt threatened by the potential oppression of Chinese officials. She fostered alliances among other high ranking officials in the Beijing court, but also tried to keep the power struggle secret from the empire at-large. Thankfully for Zheng, her late husband’s efforts to limit familial control kept Jeongsun from pushing serious policy changes outside of the peninsula. The legacy of Jeongjo would persist for the average Chinese citizen, even as the political divide between the new guard and the homeland grew. By the time Sunjo came of age, he had grown aware of his role in maintaining the realm, and he greatly reduced his great-grandmother’s power over the empire. Jeongsun had lost, but she would get one last strike in at Lady Zheng years after her death in 1805.

During her limited control over Korea, Grand Dowager Jeongsun had pushed many anti-Christian edicts, attempting to drive this foreign faith from her land. The tactics utilized by her loyalists were considered harsh, even amongst the largely conservative Korean court. Open practitioners of Catholicism were beaten and paraded through the streets, while missionaries were executed and often dismembered. This practice reached the ear of merchants from the British East India Company, who were hoping to expand their markets into China. Not understanding the intricacies of the twin courts of Joseon, they feared any efforts to trade from Korean controlled territory would risk the lives of Christians from any background. Hoping for a safer port, the British EIC instead chose to trade exclusively with the Tungning, whose status as a vassal gave them autonomous trade policies.

The British EIC put itself in a negative light with the House of Koxinga very quickly, as the merchants offloaded large quantities of opium among the population of southern China. The drug was already illegal across the whole empire, and the Tungning court was confident in their ability to squash these roving drug lords. In May of 1811, a fleet of merchant vessels was heavily inspected by the Canton Port Authority. 5 of the 9 vessels were found to be shipping opium, and as a warning to the EIC each contraband ship was scuttled in the harbor. To the government this was a great victory, however the British response to this act was indignant rage. The EIC waged war on the vassal kingdom, using their naval superiority to blockade the seat of power in Taiwan, while they invaded the highly profitable Canton region. As the company was not an actual governing body, this conflict was legally declared piracy by the Joseon court. Having continued his father’s policy of reducing imperial power, Sunjo could not help the land of his mother without violating many of his self-imposed rules, which would likely sew discord amongst the frontier provinces. The EIC’s invasion reduced the great House of Koxinga to a minor power in the empire, and the long dead Empress Jeongsun had her revenge. If only she had known that she inadvertently ended the empire’s golden age in doing so.

Emperor Sunjo brokered a peace deal following the EIC Affair. As compensation for the actions taken against company property, Tungning would cede their lands in Canton to the British, so long as the new government continued the yearly tribute previously owed. A magisterial court in Taiwan would continue to govern the remaining parts of the former vassal kingdom, with the House of Koxinga no longer ruling as monarch. Sunjo however made it clear that no further shipments of opium will be allowed to enter imperial lands. The deal made the young emperor seem well in control to the public of China, but officials in court were angry over the situation that had developed. The reality of the situation would only be revealed after seeing how the British adhered to the agreement.

Starting on New Years of 1814, Canton was fully governed by a branch of the East India Company. While not truly part of the Commonwealth, the number of British industries moving to the region made it an integral asset for the empire. As the crown grew more invested in southern China, they grew less willing to allow the EIC to make tributes to a foreign ruler. The company halted annual payments to Joseon after only 12 years of rule. Emperor Sunjo’s response was to end all official deals with British merchants, as well as an order to refit the military. The embarrassment of his mother’s clan still lingered in his mind, and he needed to prove to the court that he was not going to let European powers eclipse the Middle Kingdom. He also sent his heir off early to be educated at the Sungkyunkwan, greatly angering the boy’s mother. She was however allowed to reside in the Korean palace so that she may be closer to the Crown Prince. The remainder of Sunjo’s reign would be so focused on the inevitable war that he’d never return to the peninsula until his burial, ruling exclusively from Beijing.

To make up for the loss of legal business with the Joseon dynasty, the EIC ramped up its illegal trade of opium into the empire. They had largely saturated the Cantonese market already, and in 1821 Hong Kong became the site of the first local opium processing mill. By the end of the decade, several hundred crates of the addictive pain suppressant were flooding into Joseon China annually. The issue became evident to Sunjo in 1825, when one of his regional governors arrived at his court high on the drug, greatly embarrassing himself with his behavior. The emperor was enraged by the situation, rising from his throne and striking the soon to be exiled official. The following day an edict was delivered to the regional governors of the southern provinces. He demanded that they focus their efforts on rooting out this trade on the Chinese end. He personally held the local officials accountable for failure, replacing those responsible for the largest markets with fresh eyes. Crown Prince Hyomyeong himself recommended an official named Lin Zexu, whose writing on the dangers of western influence was brought up during his time at school. Lin was in turn positioned as the leader of a special task force headquartered in Hunan, and was given special privileges over the military to execute operations against smuggling operations.

The Crown Prince was elevated to Regent in 1827, as Emperor Sunjo faced many crippling illnesses as he entered middle-age. As he was only 17, Hyomyeong’s level of education and power was the envy of the many elderly statesmen surrounding the throne. He often had to work extra hard to motivate the court to back his decisions, which made him learn to despise the balance of power his family had established in China. He had dealt with political opponents in Korea, and they at least knew they could not disregard the authority of the crown. To combat further insubordination, Hyomyeong had to rely on courtly intrigue and gradually proving his competence to his government. He had to spend almost the entirety of his regency fighting his own advisors, replacing many of the weaker positions his father had not rooted out. By the time Prince Regent Hyomyeong ascended as Emperor Munjo in 1834, his government was the most efficient it had been in decades, but the effort had largely left the Anti-Opium Task Force unsupported.

The new emperor put the full weight of the imperial government into dealing with the British drug trade coming out of Canton. He increased funding to Lin Zexu, who grew emboldened after stamping out a few smuggler’s dens near the Canton border. In his raids, Lin was able to capture 200 Cantonese operatives, with an additional 30 British citizens heading the operation. Hearing of the imprisonment of their citizens, the crown formally requested their extradition back to Canton. The Anti-Opium Task Force refused, citing that their crimes were committed on Korean soil. As tensions rose after the refusal, Lin Zexu himself traveled to Hong Kong in 1839, in order to negotiate on behalf of the emperor. Accounts of the incident vary, but after a heated debate between the EIC’s Governor Elliot and Lin, the latter was shot by a soldier standing guard in the room. The British record claims Lin Zexu had begun acting in a threatening manner, however his one surviving attendant claimed it was Elliot’s saber rattling and disregard for Emperor Munjo that enraged the politician. When word reached the ear of the Joseon court, all prisoners of the task force were promptly executed, and war was declared.

The First Opium War did not go favorably for the Joseon dynasty, in spite of early signs of success. The full weight of the well-trained Chinese military was able to easily push into the Canton region, pushing the EIC’s private military back to the island of Hong Kong. While the casualty rate was high on both sides, the numbers were on Munjo’s side, as the war seemed all-but won in the spring of 1840. The EIC still possessed superior ships, preventing any meaningful incursions by the Korean navy. In the summer, Admiral/Governor Elliot returned to China with reinforcements from the British Navy, with official permission from the crown to fully seize Canton as part of the Commonwealth. The reprisal proved that even after years of preparation, the Joseon military could not easily force out the European power when troop counts were at near parity. Fighting over the region continued for another year and a half, with Joseon defensive lines slowly chipping away under constant British bombardment from ships on the coastline and Pearl River. As the army retreated to the edge of Canton, Munjo declared a ceasefire, fearing an attempted push further north. He lost his first bout with the British, but he knew the cost for them was nearly identical to his own.

Munjo spent the next decade recovering from the stalemate over Canton. The British continued their illicit trade, and refused to resume tribute payments. The maritime dominance of the Royal Navy ensured that no matter how many people the Korean military enlisted, they could not break enemy control over the region. The Emperor knew he needed to acquire allies and better technology in order to shake the occupation. This plea was answered by two neighboring powers. The isolated nation of Japan was forced to open diplomacy after being held at gunpoint by the distant United States. The island empire had a large population, as well as a culture that was easily compatible with Joseon ideals for the region. Emperor Munjo immediately cultivated a diplomatic relationship with Japan, offering access to Korean technological advances in exchange for a military alliance. However, the previous war had proven that raw numbers alone would not be enough to overtake the British Navy.

Emperor Munjo turned to the Russian Empire, who had helped the dynasty’s founder by providing military equipment, hoping that they may assist them in repelling the British. The Russians had no love for Joseon’s enemies, but still expected payment for such a large stockpile of weapons. In exchange for their assistance, the Korean Emperor formally ceded large swaths of Xinjiang and Mongolia to the Tsar, and granted the empire unique naval rights in Manchuria and Northern China. With a wealth of new soldiers and equipment, Munjo issued an ultimatum to the Canton occupation government. When his message was largely ignored, he ordered a swift and devastating raid on all known British vessels shipping opium. While seen as a brazen move by the court, the move ensured a heavy blow to the EIC before they could be reinforced by the crown. In the autumn of 1856, the Second Opium War began.

The two powers waged open war over southern China for 4 long years, with Joseon making gradual gains at the cost of thousands of lives. The British military took the threat more seriously the second time around, but found every shipment of reinforcements under fire by the impressively long ranged artillery pieces provided by the Russians. Reinforcements from Japan effectively turned the tide in the Second Battle for Hong Kong, and it is said that many Cossack volunteer groups were also seen aiding the Macau front.

The tone of the conflict ultimately shifted after the French started helping the British effort, fearing that the conflict would spill over to their own ambitions for Southeast Asia. Their inclusion in the war elevated the conflict on the global stage, causing other European powers to take notice. Attempts at an early peace were largely drowned out by the geographically distant conflict for Italy, with the Second Opium War becoming a minor element in the larger battle. Once the war in Europe was settled, negotiations with Joseon began.

Diplomacy was mediated by the Papacy, who were seen as a neutral party given their currently complicated relationship with the British and French. Pope Pius IX was in agreement with the now ailing Munjo that Britain had no lawful right to rule over the land, however also noted the unique cultural situation that had developed in Canton in the past few decades. He decreed that the region in southern China no longer aligned itself with the ideals of Joseon or Britain, and should be established as an independent neutral state emphasizing fair commerce in East Asia. Britain was however allowed to keep Macau under their control. The British would additionally pay the Joseon court an annual lease for access to numerous ports in Korean controlled waters, which doubled as reparations. This resulted in the establishment of treaty ports on the Shandong peninsula and the island of Jeju. To smooth relations with France, the Pope also requested the formal dissolution of the Tributary System, allowing the colonization of Indochina. As a final reassurance of Joseon hegemony over the region, the Pope threatened excommunication and diplomatic consequences if either nation continued to threaten land rightfully under Joseon rule, and the matter was closed. It is said that when news of the deal reached the Court in Beijing, Munjo collapsed in relief. This often results in the perspective that the war with Britain was the only thing keeping the Emperor alive, as he would soon pass away in 1861, at the age of 51.

The succession of the Korean throne fell to Emperor Heonjong, Munjo’s only son. His reign was quite stable, thanks to the long time he was able to watch his father’s reign from the background. He continued to foster relations with Russia and Japan, even though the two empires often were at odds with each other. When Emperor Meiji ascended in 1867, Japanese relations started to drift, as the young ruler had doubts over Heonjong’s intentions. His military, which had been largely uplifted by the late Munjo, ‘returned the favor’ by annexing the Ryukyu Islands and Tungning-ruled Taiwan. The two states had previously been part of the Tributary System, and still had strong ties with China. Given the Pope’s request to dissolve the system however, the court advised the Emperor to allow the Japanese conquests in exchange for monetary compensation, essentially continuing the system in secret. The hope was that this move would smooth relations with Japan, however this was not the case.

The relationship soured further at the dawn of the 20th century, as a series of changes in their dynamic caused a rift between the two powers. The modernization of Japan was truly a miracle, one that they achieved noticeably without Korean or Russian assistance. The gifting of a high-speed railroad over the Tsushima Strait, designed to bring the empires together, only added to Japan’s growing paranoia about Joseon attempting to assert dominance. As if this could not get worse, the passing of Heonjong in 1901 left the throne of the Middle Kingdom in the hands of a younger, more stand-offish monarch, one who was far less sympathetic to Japan’s rise, and had something to prove to his own court.

Emperor Taejong was young when the Japanese were allowed to conquer Taiwan, an event which left a lasting impression of “those ungrateful barbarians.” He lacked the diplomatic tact of his father, and was known to be blunt in court, even insulting the recently deceased. Most importantly, he had much disgust for Emperor Meiji, a man he unfortunately had to meet in the 1890s while still Crown Prince. Of all things, the emperor had the gall to serve him tea made with powder, a practice outlawed in China since 1391. While he did his best to remain composed throughout the meeting, his cup remained full when he boarded his train back to Korea.

Now reigning as the Emperor, Taejong was quite cold in his dealings with Japan, roundly blocking many efforts to expand the influence of Japanese corporations in his realm. He saw their sudden alliance with the British to be short-sighted, especially as he recalled stories of when both empires fought together against the western invaders. When the Japanese instead went to war in 1904 against Russia, Joseon’s oldest allies, he ordered heavy sanctions on Japanese trade, as his court urged him not to join the conflict. With the British still circling Canton, he could not afford to invite their return.

When Meiji was finally dead, Taejong instigated a widespread covert effort to manipulate Japanese politics, especially among the courtiers of the infirm Emperor Taisho. The campaign of intrigue and diplomacy did much to sway the officials of Kyoto, but the divided nature of Japanese politics made their gains insufficient. The Heimin Diet was on principle against absolute monarchies like Joseon, and the Bakufu was already pro-Britain. Ultimately, the effort to restore Japanese relations ended in failure, as Japan post-Civil War was even firmer in its anti-Joseon sentiment, especially as the new Showa Emperor pinned the blame of his father’s murder on the dynasty.

The end of Taejong’s reign was marked by internal unrest, efforts at political change, and failures to answer the problems faced by the public. A drought reduced the water levels in many of the arterial rivers of the heartland by half in 1923, hampering food stockpiles that were already in the reserves after the disease-born famine of 1920 which crippled the world. Some relief was dispersed in the southern countryside by a group referred to as the Hongmen Four, a conference of pseudo-statesmen/business leaders who operated out of the Canton Economic Zone. Their word was law in the neutral buffer state, and they had allowed the region to thrive as a hub of international business. As they helped in ways the Empire failed to do, many movements formed in the countryside that were in part inspired by the writings of the Four, especially the very well-spoken Sun Yat-Sen. These anti-monarchy movements snowballed into full rebellions in a matter of months, in an event referred to as the Year of Lotus-Petals. Throughout 1924, these bandit-revolutionaries rampaged against government storehouses and offices, with more than half of all municipalities south of the Yangtze reporting violent incidents.

Were this the only threat to the Joseon Empire, Taejong’s court may have gotten it under control. Communist rebels independent of the Lotus Movements gathered on the eastern coastline, establishing a major revolutionary cell in Shanghai. They proved far more militant than their more moderate counterparts to the south, and were able to start a large-scale revolt against local authorities in the closing months of 1925. As they combatted the local Provincial forces, many bystanders were caught in the crossfire, only adding to the dissent in the region. The chaos of the mid-twenties left the central government scrambling to suppress rebellion after rebellion, all while their long-feared neighbor prepared to lunge at the opportunity. By the time the Japanese stormed into the region in 1927, the populace practically welcomed their stability.

The biggest threat to Taejong’s control in the short term formed in the ancient city of Xian; a result of improper military control, and a failure to modernize. General Yuan Shikai and a few other high profile military commanders from China’s provincial armies had grown discontent with the overly decadent and incompetent nature of the bureaucracy, especially after multiple attempts to modernise the military’s structure. Yuan declared himself the president of a rogue state of Shanxi in 1926, using falsely reallocated munitions to jumpstart a new army in the interior. The threat of the Shanxi Clique was ultimately considered the most pressing to Korean authority, and so it took the bulk of the empire’s attention in the first few years. Little did they know that they would be inviting the British and Japanese to capitalize on their moment of weakness…

Everyday living in Joseon is a picture of two different worlds. Battlelines carved by government forces, Japanese invaders, and rebel cells leave scars across the country, especially for those who live in Hubei, Hunan, Anhui, and Jiangsu. Shanxi has largely recovered from the coup attempt by Yuan Shikai’s Clique, though the scars of the region are more political than physical. Conditions in areas occupied by Japan vary, but are at the least peaceful compared to those on the front. Many more traditionally minded communities practice active resistance against the Choukou government. Meanwhile, cities like Shanghai, that were left to suffer amid the failed rebellions there, are actually grateful to their new government, with promises of meritocratic government positions, and an increased representation in politics compared to that of Joseon.

For those who remain far from the war, blissful ignorance to the situation allows life to go on without issue. The ancient cities of Northern China and Korea are bustling centers of culture, with the traditional arts of the empire proving to be the envy of the world. Farmers live modestly, but comfortably in their toil. City dwellers live bountifully, profiting from the many vital resources the nation possesses. The reaches to the north of Beijing hold some of the richest sources of Cavorite in the world, a fact that literally aids in keeping the League of Five Emperors afloat. The only ones who truly understand the reality of the war to the south are the unfortunate sons of the city dwellers, sent off to fight in a conflict most gravely misunderstood.

By 1938, Joseon had not seen peace in over 14 years. The current Emperor Himjo, crowned in 1932, is well-prepared for another generation of warfare, and perceived as more capable than his predecessor. The rebellions that started this era of chaos may have been routed, but not all of their enemies have been taken down for good. Even as the rebels flee, the forces of the British Commonwealth have unlawfully occupied an independent Canton. The Empire of Japan has also invaded, conquering and fortifying the nation’s southern coasts. Divided as it may be, Joseon is not out of the fight. The Mandate is still held in Korean hands, and 1.5 billion souls still cry out for their Emperor’s protection. Their armor, while dated, is reliable as a shield against their many foes. Hidden behind the gilded facade is still a mighty war machine, one fueled by old traditions, and even older tactics. Joseon counterstrikes have proven capable of defeating their enemies, and in time they might be able to stop them for good.