??-Rank Seong Ye-han: Mana's Embrace
Mana. The source of the crisis that nearly collapsed modern society once before—and the raw material that allowed it to rise again. The driving force that grants awakeners special abilities and truly elevates them beyond human limits. It was the power E- and D-rank awakeners dreamed of endlessly, and Seong Ye-han had longed for it too.
Normally, an awakener gains both a special ability and the sensation of mana at the same time. But Seong Ye-han was anything but normal. He'd awakened his special ability long ago, yet he'd never even felt the slightest trace of mana. If that wasn't a twist of fate, nothing was.
The first time he told Shin Ye-hwa about it, she'd stared at him like he was some ultra-rare anomaly—or a terminal case. She'd chewed him out thoroughly that night, but it had made him painfully aware of his own abnormality, leaving a bitter taste.
And so, after days of what could only be called training—or perhaps ass-busting efforts—he'd finally succeeded today. Seong Ye-han had become a true awakener, blessed with this incredible gift of mana.
He'd definitely felt his physical abilities skyrocket from all the sex with Shin Ye-hwa, but there had always been something missing. Now, everything clicked into place, perfectly complete.
It was probably because he'd inherited her mana stats, dramatically boosting his total mana capacity. Sending her a deep wave of gratitude in his heart, Seong Ye-han raised his hand.
"Whoa..."
Something shimmering like heat haze enveloped his forearm and hand. A strange yet comforting warmth, different from sunlight or fire. He wasn't an elemental ability user, and his mana level was low, so it appeared as colorless ripples—but they said it would take on special colors as one's mastery grew. Sure, that "mastery" meant S-rank territory, but still.
Daydreaming about what color his might be was harmless enough.
"Too early to get that satisfied."
As he lost himself in the sensation, Shin Ye-hwa spoke up.
While waiting for their gear, they'd sparred and he'd gotten lessons on sensing and handling mana. Honestly, she wasn't the best teacher for mana—she handled it on pure instinct and couldn't explain it well. But it beat going in blind or listening to random internet bullshit. And the results spoke for themselves.
"You're just at the starting line, but good job. Now we train for real."
She reined in his joy with a warning. There's no end to learning, they said. After days of grunting effort just to feel it...
This woman has no mercy.
"Let me celebrate a little longer..."
"You're starting late, so you gotta put in more than everyone else."
She sliced through his whining and pressed on with the lesson. If they were going hard, he wished she'd wear a white blouse, black skirt, and coffee-colored stockings. Focusing on her words, Seong Ye-han listened.
She explained that everyone handled mana a bit differently. Even with the same input, some got better power output efficiency, others boosted pure durability or defense. Physical stats weren't divided so neatly, of course—it was all relative. But personal traits definitely existed.
The same went for ability types. Even with fire-based powers, one person's flames excelled in raw firepower, another's in spread, another's in unquenchability. Take Shin Ye-hwa's ability: fire that froze everything.
So, the basics of mana control were identifying your traits—compensating weaknesses or maximizing strengths.
"So, try it. Squeeze your power—like squuuueeeze."
"Huh?"
"Squuuueeeze your power."
"..."
Her instinctive teaching style, right on cue... Professor Shin Ye-hwa's explanations were way too vague. She'd get trashed in evaluations.
Griping inwardly, he followed her guidance anyway—it had worked so far.
Squuuueeeze—huuummm—
Unlike the raw power he'd felt at first, mana now coated his hand like well-forged armor, flowing in steady, rhythmic waves.
...It worked?
Seong Ye-han's jaw dropped in shock.
"See? Heh!"
Shin Ye-hwa preened, hands on hips. It pissed him off a little, but he couldn't argue.
Back home after training, the mountain of luggage Shin Ye-hwa had brought was mostly sorted. It finally felt livable—by his standards, at least. He couldn't say how she felt, but her expressions and actions suggested she was adapting surprisingly well.
"Trash~ You wash up too~"
Shin Ye-hwa emerged from the shower without a hint of awkwardness. She wore nothing but his dress shirt. Made for a man, it amplified her ample breasts' presence, barely covering her thighs while baring her sleek legs in a cheeky display.
He'd offered to buy her pajamas, but she insisted on his shirts. He couldn't deny her, and every time, it was a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction.
That "trash" nickname showed no signs of fading. Sure, even he admitted what he'd done to her was trash-tier.
"Facts hit harder than fists..."
An unblockable attack. Unfair. Heading into the shower as she left, he vowed to pry that "trash" off her lips once they saved enough for proper hunting gear in a few days.
After the shower door clicked shut, Shin Ye-hwa flopped onto the massive bed she'd brought. The plush softness enveloped her in cozy languor. And his shirt hugging her body felt even better.
Sniffing it, a mildly sweet floral scent wafted up—not his masculine musk, but the fabric softener from laundry. Didn't matter. What counted was that it was his, and now she smelled the same.
Her hair too. The artificial fragrance from her long locks. The old her might've gone for seven colors of hair dye, but not anymore. His short hair lost shampoo scent quickly, man-style, but she could sniff it anytime she wanted.
His hair, carrying her scent. Love it...
Somewhere down there grew slick and sticky in an instant. A giggle slipped out unbidden—a secret from Seong Ye-han. If he knew she obsessed over such trivialities, how would he look at her?
They'd fucked countless times, yet mornings still brought lingering shyness. Same vibe.
"Snuuuff—pah..."
As she savored the scent in bed, Seong Ye-han emerged from the shower—who knew time flew like that?
They'd seen everything of each other, yet they always exited with minimal cover: her in his shirt, him in boxers and sweats. She quickly struck a sultry pose from some internet vid, smiling faintly at him as he toweled his hair and sauntered over.
He froze, spotting her.
"What're you doing?"
Casual question, no visible fluster. But she knew better. Those calm black eyes hid the beast that made her scream.
"What do you think? You know damn well—don't play amateur."
Her disheveled shirt teased glimpses of skin. Instinctive female allure, snaring the male gaze. Long, toned legs stretched out, dainty feet wiggling teasingly at the end.
He averted his eyes, but she knew he'd bitten the hook. Part of why she coveted his shirts.
"Tonight, we're actually sleeping. For real."
Firm resolve, unexpectedly so. But she wasn't disappointed. Same old script.
He clearly wanted to fuck her brains out daily but played coy to pace himself. Cute. It always ended with them drenched in sweat and gasps till late, collapsing together. Yet he clung to his vows.
Curious about his thoughts, but no need to ask. Nothing harmful to her, and seducing his teasing ass was fun foreplay.
She wasn't the old Shin Ye-hwa, just passively taking it. Back then, she'd maneuver him to initiate—her moving first felt like defeat. Not anymore.
Once it started—even if she pounced—he'd pin her down and pound till her hips ached. Lesson learned.
"Heh~ Think so?"
Wiggle-wiggle. Her toes poked and prodded his body teasingly.
He endured stoically. Giggling, she slid behind, wrapping her legs around his waist, one arm over his chest, the other stroking his abs' ridges—then lower, gripping the hot pillar that always wrecked her in bliss. It throbbed, begging her touch.
"Ngh!"
A grunt escaped at her grasp. But he held firm.
"Hehe—"
To shatter his last reason, she ground her plush curves against him, hot breath on his ear, nibbling as she whispered.
"Fuck... me... with this."
"You're... unreal."
"Kyaa!"
Her words broke his guard. He roughly yanked her off, tossing her onto the bed. Joyful moan from her lips—she knew it wasn't rejection.
"Why're you such a slut?"
Furious male glare.
"You made me this way."
Anticipating female pout.
"Fuckin' done."
"Eek?! Ahhn!"
Once more, their tiny room filled with blazing heat and lewd cries. Shin Ye-hwa lost again that night—but god, she loved defeat now.