The Phoenix's Challenge
The real-time viewer count had already climbed into the mid-to-high 60,000s.
Countless people had tuned in to witness Myeong-yun’s “For Honor” 100-win streak challenge. It had not been long since he conquered the Sha Feng Murim and claimed the title of the Greatest Under Heaven, yet here he was already chasing another monumental achievement. Naturally, the audience was eager to see the outcome.
It was an unstoppable advance, a true force breaking through bamboo!
Most of the opponents matched against Myeong-yun were skilled veterans, yet the win streak continued as though victory were inevitable. Those currently queuing for unlimited fighting in “For Honor” were the most hardened, battle-hardened players. Newcomers had withdrawn their queues upon hearing of the calamity’s appearance and instead came to watch Myeong-yun’s stream. The veterans, however, brought out their strongest builds, determined to defeat him at least once.
Every kind of weapon appeared. From greatswords to naginata, curved swords, flails, spears, and halberds…
Even for Myeong-yun, it was a novel experience. In the Central Plains murim, one rarely saw such minor weapons.
“In the Central Plains murim, it was always swords or sabers. This world truly has quite a few interesting weapons.”
While queuing for the 50th win, another peculiar opponent appeared.
Flame-like hair and eyes. A bare, bronze-toned upper body covered in scars and lean muscle. He wore red trunk-style pants, resembling a boxer. What stood out most were the red-and-gold cords woven around his head and both arms.
The man smiled upon seeing Myeong-yun and shouted loud enough for the entire arena to echo.
“Kiyaaaaaaaaaaahho—!!”
“A friend with quite the set of lungs.”
“Finally matched! Greetings! Korea’s Heavenly Demon! I am the proud immortal of Thailand, the Phoenix!! Nok Amata! It is an honor to face you!”
“Ho.”
Following the swordsman and Rudolf, another remarkable individual had appeared. Polite, energetic, and brimming with patriotism for his homeland—qualities Myeong-yun found most agreeable. Thanks to the auto-translator, communication flowed smoothly despite a slight awkwardness. Above all, even in virtual reality, the fighting spirit and presence radiating from him were extraordinary. He was clearly a master who had undergone long, rigorous training.
“The immortal bird that rises again from the ashes! Phoenix Nok Amata!”
Amata shouted once more. Raising his arms in guard and lifting one leg, he struck the iconic Muay Thai stance, his fighting spirit blazing even brighter.
“Please take care of me, Heavenly Demon!”
“…Very well. This should be entertaining.”
Amata wore metal guards on his limbs, likely to face bladed weapons. Yet, upon meeting Myeong-yun, he discarded them as unnecessary and moved lightly. His movements were clearly different from all previous challengers.
“The limbs of Nak Muay, forged through training, are weapons in themselves! I shall show you what a true martial artist is!”
“Come, then.”
“Adadadadadadat—!!”
Amata closed the distance with swift, light footwork. His short, precise steps clearly demonstrated his speed, while his accurate foot placement proved he was no champion by chance. In an instant, his leg lashed out in a long arc.
Nak Muay train their shins from childhood, hardening them like iron through relentless abuse. The resulting shins become devastating weapons capable of snapping a baseball bat with ease.
“Achyooot—!!”
A swift right high kick, pivoting on the left leg, aimed straight at the head. Every Muay Thai technique targets vital points or uses the body itself as a weapon. Since this was virtual reality, there were no restrictions like those in real combat sports. Amata extended his leg with pure killing intent, genuinely trying to end Myeong-yun.
“I can feel the years of training.”
Myeong-yun smiled for the first time since starting “For Honor.” The murim he desired needed people like this—warriors who had spent years honing their bodies through life-and-death training, perfectly suited to the jianghu.
Myeong-yun tilted his head back lightly to dodge the high kick and created distance. Amata pursued with rapid steps, throwing punches and elbow strikes. Myeong-yun kept his hands behind his back, evading each attack by a hair’s breadth, maintaining the precarious dance.
The viewers were stunned by Amata’s blistering tempo. It was the fastest speed they had seen yet. Without weapons, this was the speed he could display, but a Nak Muay’s entire body was a weapon. Even a graze could be fatal. His legs were maces, his arms blades. An elbow graze would split flesh and expose bone. That was the essence of a Nak Muay pushed to the extreme. It was no coincidence that Muay Thai was considered a top contender for the strongest practical martial art.
“Heuriyaaat—!!”
Amata launched another kick. A single misread among the low, middle, or high options would lead straight to unconsciousness. The kick that had been heading toward the midsection suddenly changed trajectory, rising toward the head—a surprise Brazilian kick! The feint was so masterful that even Myeong-yun had initially read it as a middle kick. His proficiency was extraordinary.
‘Entertaining.’
Myeong-yun dodged even the Brazilian kick by leaning back and widened the gap once more. Amata maintained his rhythmic steps, smiling broadly as he spoke.
“Just as I thought! Heavenly Demon, you’ve never gone all out until now, have you?”
“Hmm. What makes you say that?”
“Even now, you’re deliberately dodging by the narrowest of margins!”
“……”
“I can tell. How many opponents do you think I’ve faced in the ring? Heavenly Demon, I want to see your true strength!”
“True strength, is it.”
Myeong-yun pondered briefly before nodding with a smile. If this man could perceive even that, then perhaps it was acceptable.
“I shall show you.”
Myeong-yun exhaled slowly and released the killing intent he had been suppressing. The atmosphere around him shifted instantly. His previously benevolent expression turned utterly cold, freezing the chat for a moment.
Facing it head-on, Amata felt a chill run down his spine despite it being virtual reality. His entire body trembled. Every nerve stood on end, his instincts screaming at him to flee. Yet Amata did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward, beat his chest like a gorilla, and roared.
“I am the Phoenix—! Nok— Amataaaaaaaa—!!!”
A phoenix is reborn from ashes even in death. Amata seized the initiative.
He rushed in with blinding speed and unleashed rapid jabs—three strikes in a single breath. But Myeong-yun evaded all three and threw his first punch.
Thud, thud!
In an instant, jabs landed on Amata’s philtrum, jaw, and solar plexus—following the exact same trajectory Amata had just used.
“Kugh—! Heuriyaaaaaat—!!”
Amata clung to consciousness through the pain. Raising his high guard, he twisted his waist and launched a right kick aimed at the thigh—a low kick. However, Myeong-yun had already read it and extended his own right leg.
‘That’s a bad choice! A Nak Muay’s shin is like iron!’
Amata thought so for a split second, but the moment of impact proved him wrong. Myeong-yun’s leg felt like a mountain. It was as though Amata had kicked an unyielding ancient tree rather than a limb.
Amata pressed his assault relentlessly, determined to land at least one clean hit even if it meant breaking his bones. Yet every time, Myeong-yun countered with strikes following the exact same trajectory. Hands and feet collided repeatedly in the space between them, resembling a perfect decalcomania.
Then, at some point, Myeong-yun surpassed him. As if anticipating Amata’s next move, he struck faster, landing blows all over Amata’s body. A low kick to the thigh, a hook to the temple, an elbow to the jaw. Powerful, clean hits landed in rapid succession. Even Amata, whose body had been forged through extreme training, began to lose clarity.
“Kuhk…! Kraaaaaah—!!”
Yet his fighting spirit refused to extinguish. True to his name as the immortal bird, Nok Amata turned his very soul into kindling, reigniting his flames as he threw everything he had at Myeong-yun. Punches, elbows, even headbutts—none connected. Finally, gritting his teeth, he unleashed a decisive middle kick.
But just before Amata’s foot could reach him, Myeong-yun countered with a Brazilian kick of even greater refinement. The strike landed squarely on Amata’s temple.
“Kuhk—!!”
The lethal blow sent Amata sprawling to the ground. He no longer had the strength to move. It had been a long time since he had been so utterly overwhelmed. Unable to use either hands or feet, he had lost.
Winner: ‘Heavenly Demon Myeong-yun’
Amata stared at the message floating before his eyes and laughed hollowly. He had already known from the videos that this man was extraordinary, but…
“To think such a monster actually exists in this world.”
“Well fought, Nok Amata. This Lord shall remember your name.”
Myeong-yun extended a hand toward Amata. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a fight this much. A place where one could discuss pure martial arts without any ulterior motives was always a joy.
“I learned a great deal! Heavenly Demon! I hope we have another chance to spar!”
“This Lord always welcomes a duel.”
With that, the match ended.
Myeong-yun had achieved his 50th consecutive win.
“Now I am halfway there.”
He hoped even more fervently that someone who could truly entertain him would appear.