Kael didn't stay on the elevated ground for long.
Being visible was a calculated risk, not a permanent state. The moment attention shifted from observation to expectation, it became a liability. He descended along a narrow path that cut through the outer edge of the settlement, where storage sheds thinned into half-abandoned structures and the stone markers grew uneven.
This part of the settlement felt unfinished.
Or forgotten.
The pressure returned as he passed between two leaning buildings. Not probing this time. Focused. Narrow.
Kael stopped.
The air compressed abruptly, snapping inward like a held breath released too quickly. Dust lifted from the ground, spiraling toward a point just ahead of him.
Too close.
Kael stepped sideways as something struck where he'd been standing—a concussive impact that cracked stone and sent fragments skidding across the ground.
He didn't wait.
He moved.
The second strike came faster, the pressure shaped into a blunt arc meant to pin rather than break. Kael slid inside its edge, letting it graze past his shoulder as he closed the distance.
A figure emerged from behind the shed.
Young. Focused. Wearing the sunburst crest openly.
Not a soldier.
An initiate.
The pressure wavered the moment Kael stepped into range.
Too close again.
Kael pivoted, hooking a foot behind the initiate's ankle and shifting his weight sharply. The pressure faltered as balance was lost, the technique unraveling the instant its user's stance broke.
The initiate hit the ground hard.
Kael stepped back immediately, hands still open.
The air settled.
Footsteps echoed nearby.
Kael didn't run.
Running implied guilt.
Two guards rounded the corner moments later, weapons half-raised. Their eyes flicked from the fallen initiate to Kael, then back again.
"What happened?" one demanded.
The initiate groaned, pushing himself upright. "He… he closed the distance."
The guards' expressions tightened.
"Unarmed?" the second guard asked.
Kael nodded once.
Silence stretched.
Pressure techniques were meant to control space. To punish those who couldn't maintain distance. Closing that gap without a weapon wasn't impossible—but it wasn't common either.
One of the guards exhaled sharply. "You should have disengaged."
The initiate looked up, jaw clenched. "I misjudged."
That admission carried weight.
The guards exchanged a look, then lowered their weapons.
"Move along," one said to Kael. "This doesn't concern you."
It did.
But Kael said nothing.
He walked away calmly, every sense alert until the pressure fully receded.
Only when he reached the far edge of the settlement did he slow.
Unarmed had been acceptable when distance existed.
It was becoming a problem now that it didn't.
Kael looked down at his hands.
Sooner or later, the world would force his range to collapse again.
And next time, control alone might not be enough.