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Where's my wheel?

They came for our quarry.

But you're... I'll go! Just wait inside!

And watch as the Inquisition takes what's mine? Never.

Juana!

Juana!!

Promise me you'll—

Look out!

What the—

Argh—!

Ambush! Take cover!

Mierda, it's the Inquisition!

What's going on?

Wish I knew. Someone must've leaked our hunting route.

Teach! Those finshits came for our catch!

Tell me something I don't know! What about the guards?

They were caught by surprised. We've got casualties.

Tell them to pull back!

What about the saltfin?

Is that meat more important than our lives?

Full speed ahead! Shake them!

I'm not part of your crew, though. I'll check on the saltfin.

Argh—

The guards around the saltfin have been neutralized. We cut the rope. They can't pull the meat with them.

And the remaining pirates?

Hiding inside the ship.

A shame... We could have taken the ship too if we had more men.

What of the Alguacil?

Went to pursue the ones who fled.

Tell him to return. We have the saltfin. No need to overextend ourselves.

Señor!

A massive helm wheel flies towards Silver. He jumps back in the nick of time and almost falls backwards.

A woman in black leaps down from the salt ship, catching the flying helm wheel in her hand.

Where do you think you're going with my catch, Inquisitor?

You... The corrupting Ægir.

Oh, it's you, joven. I thought you might grow up a little when you became calificador, but it seems you're no different from your treacherous predecessor, Silver.

Always looking to stab people in the back.

Did you expect to be treated kindly, sinner?

Was I being too nice? Would you prefer to continue this conversation with the sword?

Did you perhaps think that by killing the arbiter of justice you would become one?

I was wondering what got you bold enough to venture into the Salt Flat. You found a backer.

That woman is the leader of the pirates, Señor Alguacil!

Then you're the mastermind behind the theft of the compass... Tell me, do you cling to it even now?

And what loathsome desires has it drawn out from you?

(Damn it, my wounds... I can't dodge!)

Are you out of your mind? He almost hit you.

(Whisper) Silence, joven. Do you think I <i>wanted</i> to get hit?

We need to get back to the ship. That guy's too strong for us. We can't fight him like this.

Ah, we meet again.

Then you shall receive judgment together.

We need to go! They came prepared, while we're exhausted!

If you're not going to help, then stay out of my way!

Teach just gave the order to sail! You'll be left behind!

The ship needs to shake them! We can't wait for you!

You go back.

Juana tries to stand, but cannot find the strength.

The Alguacil and warrior priests approach. In the distance, Silver stands atop her catch with a smug expression.

Enough food to feed the fleet for a month. Important materials for repairing the compass.

She cannot afford to lose it, if she is to return to the ocean.

'Señora Juana! Come back!'

Juana hears Javier's voice calling to her from the ship's stern.

Grab Juana, chaval! We're throwing the ladder down!

Blood... your wounds have opened up!

What're you waiting for?! Get up here!

She must not pass out. Her crew needs her. There is a future she must lead her fleet into.

She made a promise to Cruz.

Don't let them get away!

Yes, sir!

Señora Juana!

Juana!

Señora Juana!

Shut... up...

She can withstand the pain and darkness back no longer. They overcome her.

Ugh...

Juana! You're awake.

I...

Don't worry, we're safe.

Argh... where's Teach?

She's busy elsewhere. I'm here by your side.

What about the boy... Where did he go? Did he run away...?

No, he brought you back.

Do you want to see him? I can go get him.

What is he doing?

...He's with Teach, treating the crew members who were injured in the attack.

Aaaahhh— argh—!

I'm sorry, this ointment hurts when it's applied, but the bleeding should stop soon.

Now shut up and stop whining!

Go on... argh... I can... take it...

How's it going on your end?

(Shakes head) Not much we can do...

Bury the dead in the salts as soon as we can.

Aye... Come with me, chaval. Cesc wants to see you.

Is he hurt?

Got shot in the liver. He's on his last legs... said he wanted to see you.

...Take me to him.

Isidro makes his way through the wounded, a bowl of hot soup in hand.

Amongst the many pale faces, he sees a familiar one, smiling at him with what little strength it has left.

He sits beside the wounded man and smiles back.

You're damn ugly when you smile... you know that?

Sounds like you're in good spirits.