Kingdom dives into Joseon period. A strange plague turns folks into monsters. Themes of power, corruption and survival run wild as characters battle to save their loved ones and kingdom from undead chaos. Complex characters shine, stunning visuals pop and action keeps you on edge. Kingdom is a wild ride for horror and history fans. Don’t miss it.

Meet the characters from Kingdom

Crown Prince Lee Chang

Crown Prince Lee Chang is the kind of tragic hero you can’t stop watching. Noble, stubborn, and impossibly idealistic, he tries to carry the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders and usually ends up sprinting instead of walking, which is somehow both dramatic and a tiny bit adorable. He makes rash decisions, yes, but they come from a real, painful desire to protect people, and there is a weirdly goofy sense of humor under all that royal gravity. He’s a leader who learns the hard way, and you can see the exhaustion in his eyes — and also that he has a ridiculous taste for sweet rice cakes he pretends to dislike. Sometimes he hums absurd little songs in the middle of crises and nobody knows whether to be comforted or alarmed.

Seo Bi

Seo Bi is quietly ferocious, the kind of woman who can sew a wound shut and deliver a scathing truth in the same breath. Smart, resourceful, and morally stubborn, she maps out survival strategies like she’s sketching a recipe — practical, precise, and somehow heartbreaking. She’s the emotional anchor for the people around her but not in a soft way; think clinical care with buried fury and a soft spot for stray animals she insists she’s allergic to (lies). There’s a mysterious past and a little steel behind her eyes, and she refuses to be reduced to victim or helper, which I love. Sometimes she disappears into the crowd and then pops back up with a plan and a sandwich someone forgot, which I swear she never eats in front of people.

Young Shin

Young Shin is a whirlwind — fierce, loud, and endlessly loyal, basically the definition of “put your money on her.” She wields a spear like it’s an extension of her personality which, to be clear, is blunt, fiery, and occasionally petulant. She’s also tender in weird ways; she’ll shout you down and then tuck a bandage into your sleeve like nothing happened. She wants honor but hates stupid rules, and sometimes that inconsistency gets her into trouble, which again is kind of the point. Also, she collects ridiculous little hairpins she never wears but keeps like talismans — don’t ask why, it’s a mood.

Queen Consort Cho

Queen Consort Cho is a slow-burning power player, all silk and smiles that hide sharpened teeth. She maneuvers the court like it’s a chessboard and treats people’s loyalties as if they were teacups — fragile, easily dropped, sometimes purposefully smashed. Protective, ruthless, utterly committed to her son’s position, and strangely domestic in the way she folds letters and arranges flowers before plotting — it’s unsettling and oddly charming. She seems icy but then you catch these flashes of desperate maternal fear and it’s almost tragic, or petty, depending on the scene. Also fun fact: she apparently has a favorite embroidered handkerchief she carries everywhere and chews on the corner when thinking, which is both classy and slightly gross.

Cho Beom Pal

Cho Beom Pal is the kind of bureaucrat who smiles like a cat and claws like one too. He loves power in quiet, meticulous doses — paperwork, favors, whispered promises — and he hoards influence like someone collecting stamps. Not a front-line fighter, but endlessly dangerous in council rooms and bedchambers; petty, ambitious, and occasionally surprisingly sentimental about old calligraphy scrolls. He’ll backstab you politely and then bring pastries to the funeral, which somehow makes him infinitely worse.

Cho Hak Joo

Cho Hak Joo is the cold, clinical mastermind behind the scenes, part surgeon, part social scientist, and full-time shark. Brilliant and remorseless, he treats political problems like experiments and people like specimen jars, which is horrifying but impressive if you’re into competence. He has this unsettlingly calm voice and a wardrobe of dark robes, and apparently a fondness for fine tea which he sips while plotting, because of course. He flaunts a veneer of civility but you can sense the cruelty — and also a weirdly specific nostalgia for a childhood festival he never talks about. There are moments where he acts almost human and then immediately retracts them, like someone testing a smile in a mirror.

Moo Young

Moo Young is gruff, loyal, and annoyingly inspiring in the way a weathered general can be. Ruthless when he needs to be, steady when everyone else is spiraling, and secretly very attached to ritual — like he insists on a precise way to light a campfire and gets offended if you do it wrong. He’s not flashy, prefers to lead by example, and has this low-key sense of humor that sneaks up on you. He’ll fight to the death for the people he believes in and then hum an old marching tune while cleaning his sword, which I find both calming and mildly terrifying. Also, he has a soft spot for kids he barely knows and brings them canned peaches sometimes for reasons he refuses to explain.