On the opposite side of the battlefield, where chaos ensued due to the presence of a dragon-like creature wreaking havoc, a young boy with vibrant purple hair stood resolutely on the rear of Vesta's carriage. Clasped within his sturdy grasp were the delicate arms of a woman, his mother. A frail, soft voice reached his ears, filled with concern for his well-being.
"Son," his mother whispered, her voice laced with worry, drawing his attention.
Gregory, the purple-haired boy, diverted his gaze from the raging battle between humans and the fearsome dragon-like creature. His eyes, unknowingly shimmering like distant stars, betrayed the weight he carried, while his breath grew ragged. Turning his gaze towards his mother, he softened, holding her hands tenderly. "Don't worry, mother. I shall protect you and remain by your side," Gregory assured her, offering a faint smile that flickered with determination.