Later that day, when the rain had began to die down and the palace servants dared to go out into the open, it was finally time for the children's lessons to begin. To ensure that the children of the nobles grew up to be competent enough to go about the duties of state, they attended lessons by private tutors hired by their parents. Such as it was that the princess, accompanied by her new guard, made her way to a small covered area in the palace gardens. Nam-Deun walked several paces behind his charge, head lowered respectfully, though occasionally looked about the gardens, in awe of the splendor to which he was unaccustomed. The princess sat down in her seat at the covered area, and several other young girls sat with her, gossiping merrily. Their tutor arrived, bringing with him roles of parchment and brushes with ink, which he handed out to each of the young girls.
"Hello Mr Dae-Chung"- chorused the children together.
"Hello girls! Their teacher answered, beaming at the girls before him. Raon couldn't help but notice, uninterested in the math he taught as she was, that he looked nervous, and kept glancing around the gardens, as if expecting something. She paid no mind to this however, and allowed her mind to drift, paying a bare minimum of attention to the lesson at hand.
Nam-Deun, not paying attention to the lesson, gazed around the gardens still in wonder at the luxury of the area. He was from the port city of Pusan to the south, where the people lived mostly in poverty, with the local lords caring little for the plight of the commoners and especially after the Japanese invasion of several years ago the area has been decimated, the population having been forced to flee as refugees as the invaders massacred all they could catch and looted every building. Now even after the war the poverty had not abated due to heavy royal taxes to replenish the royal treasury. His mind drifted in his boredom to his home, and the family he had left and the invasion he was now famous for.
He was standing in a field, his fellow conscripted men standing around him with their spears held loosely at their sides. Several men held injuries they had sustained, trying to stem the bloodflow.
Nam-Deun however kept looking back, anxiously trying to see if his family were part of the refugees streaming towards the forrest that lined the rice field. He repeatedly approached people at random, begging them for news of his younger sisters, or asking if someone had seen his father.
"Come on Sam Nam-Deun, we need to go!" His commander yelled to him "there's a castle nearby, we can hide in there! Our orders are to abandon this village and defend the lord!"
"No...they aren't here...why aren't they here!?" He yelled, now desperately searching.
Several soldiers grabbed him, trying to pull him back with them into the forrest. He shook them off however, and took off at a run back to his village. He took the winding turns around the deserted streets, looking all about him. In the distance he could hear the sound of marching, of swords and armour clanking together and shouts in a language he couldn't understand. This only made him more terrified, and he began sprinting towards his home.
He arrived, and the door was broken in. His heart sank, and he went into the house, fearing the worst. Three Japanese soldiers stood there, backing into a corner his father, who was sheltering his younger sisters behind his arms.
"Hey! Back off" Nam-Deun yelled, and the soldiers turned to see him there, brandishing his spear. They laughed, and one of them said something he couldn't understand. Two of them approach him swords drawn. He backed up, gripping his spear tight. Though he could barely remember the events that had taken place there, he remembered falling backwards over a pot that had been knocked to the floor, managing to kill one soldier by a quick jab at the throat when he stood over him to deal a killing blow, and the second by puncturing his armpit as he raised his sword. The third had turned and saw what he had done, and furiously charged him, slashing his sword before Nam-Deun could do more than lean backwards. This saved him however, as the tip of the blade cut his face across his eye, any further and he would have had his face cut open. He had managed to kill this other soldier despite the injury however, with much flailing and jabbing at random into the air he could only see parts of through a hail of blood. After this, though he could hardly remember anything at all, he knew he had escorted his family out of the house. As he fled through the village however, father draped over his back wounded and younger sisters hokding his hands, a whimpering cry from a nearby building caught his attention. The orphanage. Approaching the building, he tried to push open the door, but it was stuck on something behind it. He could hear children inside trying to pull it away. With great effort, he managed to push the door and the furniture blocking the door aside, finding a dozen terrified children inside a building full of smoke, as Japanese fire arrows had set the building alight With a dozen more children following behind him he continued to flee,and returned to a cheering crowd of peasants at the nearby fort when he arrived. Rumours and stories had then spread of Nam Deun and his deeds, with some stories somewhat accurate and others completely fantastical. He had particularly enjoyed hearing a story about how he had apparently fought an entire Japanese army with nothing but his fists as he had been possessed by a demon, and tore the heart out od a Japanese commander before consuming it. He hadn't bothered to correct the old lady he had heard telling this story.
