Ardeadai wasn't too pleased by this petty dragon. "You will get a reward greater than gold, your life. You don't deserve, nor will receive, any amount of gold, and for a good reason; It is because you simply do not deserve it. There is good reason, though, good reason. As I have said, although it went over your ignorant head, comply or you'll find your son dead."
He was pleased, pleased with his threat. "I don't care about your pathetic underground sheep, nor how brave, I am. I don't care about your gold, nor your wing, nor my fears, for I have none! I will tell you what I require of you. You shall be put your place, a pathetic dragon. A pet. Yes, a pet, more than what you deserve. Not just a pet, but also a gift. I wouldn't expect you to understand, not a mere immortal like you."
Ardeadai's fist came up, to a level near his neck. It pressured inward, squeezing the butterfly which was at the wrong place and the wrong time. Extreme amounts of light came out of the gaps in his fingers, burning near-everything that just so happened to be in the way, the light caused by the sheer pressure of all of those atoms, all of those fundamental particles of the butterfly being pushed into the size of a grain of sand, before the hand was moved up, allowing a breath to make the wind take it through the aether that is...
which is particularly strange when you realize Ardeadai couldn't have possibly breathed on it, with his helmet on and such. But he was a demon, logic mattered not. "So say yes before I'll be forced to turn your insides out and make even that butterfly, or what's left, pity you."