Well, this is just a short story created to satisfy personal text preferences and YY, please feel free to scold me.
When I was young, I saw the frail him in the main hall. Many years later, he showed his fangs and became the king who would rule the world. What's the point in having the tangled blood on his arm like a child's play in the world? To him, she was the only rare thing in the world.
Conception: