"We'll tend this later," says the mysterious stranger, referring to her stab wound. He puts her dagger to her belt and looks at her, "For now, I need you to run."

"Have I not made it clear that I want you to steer away from me?"

"Aye, if you want to be hanged after today's ceremony."

"Fine. I suppose I could—argh!" she howls in pain, balling her fists. "I, I suppose I could run."

He stands to his feet and offers a hand; it was calloused, yet it seemed comforting.

Consuming her ego only for this day, she grabbed his hand, and they sprinted toward the secret passage just as more men had knocked down the office doors.

Thankfully, despite being wounded, Angelina was able to run as fast as she always does, perhaps because of the adrenaline.

Once they got out, two of them shut the brick door closed and headed to the docks, where Angelina's ship was resting.

They halt for a second, the stranger checking on her situation.

"How is your wound?"

"Great."

"May I?"

She nods, letting him take the piece of cloth away. It was bleeding red, and just when the stranger was about to replace it with another patch of cloth, Angelina unsheathes her sword and attacks the man—but he was as quick as she.

He parries like it is the easiest thing to ever do and lunges forward at her. Luckily, she's as skilled as his reflexes.

Angelina slaps him, trying to be in the upper hand, but the man grabs her arm and yanks her around against him.

She struggles to escape; he was too strong—and he felt the same with her as well. Her strength made it harder for him to cocoon her to him.

"Argh!" she screams, successfully escaping by elbowing his stomach. She swings her weapon to him, only for the lad to grab hold of the blade—and pulls it away from her touch.

Her sword flies into the air then falls to the ground with a loud clang. His palms are now covered with blood, with both hands wounded.

"That was foolish," says Angelina.

"Aye, I agree it was. But you were persistent with a weapon," he responds.

She chuckles. "I'm persistent even in combat."

Gaining on him once more, she lunges forward, but her vision blurs, and her head becomes dizzy. Angelina crashes to the ground, almost as weak as the unconscious.

The pain of her wound is coming back again, the adrenaline finally kicking off. "I will...kill you."

"Aye, you will," the man says with a pissed-off tone. "You are full of pride, are you not?"

She aims to punch the man, but he easily blocks her fist. He rolls his eyes and kneels, leveling his face with hers, "You need to come with me, so we could attend to your wound."

Angelina stands, the stranger looking out for her. She pushes him away, "I swear to—"

"Capitána! Capitána!" a voice called from afar. Both Angelina and his savior turn to the side to see who it was, and she recognizes him easily.

Her eyes furrowed in confusion and fear, "Robert?"

Robert draws near to them, with his weapon raised. He observes the stranger from head-to-toe, only for Robert to disregard him, "El Barco, Capitána. Some of the navy men, Miss. They attacked us."

"Qué? Robert, where are the others?"

"Muerta, Capitána. They killed them..."

"Where is—"

"We need to go, Miss. They're after us. They're looking for you. I saw it was Commodore Stevenson."

For a moment, she stopped. Everything seemed to be misaligned. When she thought everything was conspiring against her, she didn't believe that there would be much worse.

She was about to set sail, and now her crew is dead. Only the two of them remain; she's deeply wounded, and so is Robert, who obtained severe burns and other injuries from his escape.

Suddenly, she awakens from her thoughts. Her mouth opens agape when she witnesses Oliver far across the street, looking straight at her. He escaped. He found her.

With a worried look on his face, he runs toward her, "Angelina, wait!"

"Oliver," she mumbles. "No! He can't, Robert, he can't!"

"What do you want to do, Capitána?"

"I need to...need to..."

Angelina exhales sharply as the wound pains her more. Her legs now feel like jelly, and she knows she won't be able to make a run for it.

She can't let Oliver get to her, or everything will be ruined. Angelina weakly faces the stranger.

"Get me away from him," she says, barely even a whisper.

She grabs his arms as her legs are about to give in. She shivers and falls, but the stranger catches her as her body weakens. He looks at her with concern.

"I'm here. What do you need?"

"He can't get to us. You owe me one, pirate."

"Now I owe you?"

"Just do as I say!"

As Oliver draws near to them, the stranger carries Angelina. He beckons for Robert to follow. Robert asks him, "What do we do?"

"As this woman says," he responds. He glances far east, where his ship was located. It wasn't by the docks, after all.

He knew it was the most dangerous place to leave a pirate ship. The handsome stranger had actually rested his ship a bit far away from the village port, unseen and surreptitious.

"To the far east. We run."