I thought about it for a moment and couldn't shake a nagging suspicion that the food was the vecter of poisoning. As for why I wasn't affected, it could be my healing factor, a difference of species, or the poisoner doesn't always include the poison. Maybe they give less of it on some days to make it seem like it's more an illness that comes and goes than a poison. If she suddenly acts suspicious, they are bound to use a different method, so stopping this method wasn't enough. I needed to find the poisoner

"Do you make those bars yourself, or does someone supply them?" I asked.

"The young scouts bring me my breakfast every morning. They're a group of our most prominent young warriors." Zosimael said.

"Who gives them the ingredients to make those bars?" I asked.

"The minister of supply normally, she's in charge of distributing the tribe's resources to individuals," Zosimael said.

"How long have they served you breakfast?" I asked patiently.

Zosimael paused. "Since before I started regressing. I couldn't be trusted to hunt on my own after that and became a burden on the tribe. My contributions in my early years are the only reason I'm able to feed myself." Zosimael said with an odd tone in her voice.

"Isn't that an interesting assumption? This is a little off-topic, but you said wearing weights will help me reach breathing constant quicker." I said.

"We once tied rocks to the limbs of our young scouts, and those who survived the training all gained constant," Zosimael said.

I nodded and searched my store app for some weighted clothes. It didn't take long to find some, along with a cup, a blue bodysuit, and a Kevlar vest. I purchased them all and got dressed.

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"How are you doing that?" Zosimael asked.

"We all have our secrets mine are a little harder to understand than others. You could say I'm trading goods in an unseeable marketplace." I said.

The weights included two 10kg armbands, two 20kg white boots, and a 50kg vest of Kevlar. While I didn't like the white gloves and knew my boots would be brown before long, I was satisfied with my purchase.

As a whole, it only cost me 250SP; unfortunately, I felt slow, just moving while maintaining my breathing technique felt impossible. My body might not be up to the challenge; I was already abusing the hell out of my healing factor. I picked up my practice spear and slowly made my way through the forms. While my body felt slow, like I could move just enough to get through each stance.

Mekael returned from her break and stared at my getup with a raised eyebrow. "What kind of animal did you kill to get a blue pelt, or did you use a berry dye?"

She patted one of my armbands and frowned. "You chose to weigh yourself down. I had planned to float the idea of strapping rocks to your arms and legs. What's inside these bands?" Mekael asked.

"I imagine sand." She nodded.

"That would be easier than smooth stones. Alright, let's get to training. We'll move slowly until we find a pace you can handle." Mekael said.

…

I lay on my back, exhausted but still forced to use the breathing technique. Welts covered my face, arms, and legs where she struck me with the haft of her spear. She twirled the weapon in her hands while looking me over.

"You can do better than that; the suns have barely moved. So I tell you, what if you go another round with me? Then I will take you hunting with a real spear." Mekael said.

I stared at her, who rewarded work with more work. But if I wanted to stop Zosimael from being poisoned, I needed to get a steady supply of food. That would be easier with a hunter who knew what they were doing.

"Of course, I doubt you will catch anything wearing those weights," Mekael said.

I rolled over on my side and pushed myself up. My bones screamed in agony, and my muscles protested my every move. While I didn't have magic or long-range techniques at my disposal now, I had something even better. I could buy anything I didn't have that included a compound bow and plenty of arrows. Why chase something down with a spear when I could just shoot it from a distance?

We stood across from each other, moving through stances looking for the right moment to make a move. But, instead, she shot forward, and I jabbed through an after image. The haft of her spear smashed against the side of my head, then when I moved to block another strike, the point of her spear tapped my ribs.

I sucked in a breath and let it out. We repeated our spar over and over again. I lurched forward, and her spear pierced my gut before I knew what had happened. When I went on the defensive, she engaged and hit me just when I committed to a block. Before I thought of what to do next, she led me into a pitfall.

"You can't fight without a plan. Even if the plan you make falls apart the second you move, there has to be a goal. Mine is simple when you attack, I want you to hit where I'm not. When I hit you with a non-lethal blow, you automatically moved to defend from that position and leave yourself open at your flank. All you ever do is use a telegraphed attack or block statically. My advice is to move and keep moving. Those who remain still in a fight die." Mekael said.