As the remnants of smoke rose from Jerthrax's open maw, his blue eyes couldn't help but narrow at the sight of the Null Devil King.
The dragon could understand how the masked man had survived. He was rather resourceful, so much so, in fact, that while Jerthrax could summon even more creatures and Mythical grade weapons, he was hesitating because he feared they might be converted, turned into tools that worked against him.
The dragon massaged his neck.
This was evidence of how dangerous the masked man was, and it pained him to admit that the human was a match for him. Because of him, he now had two vulnerable spots that could be used against him.
Unfortunately for the Herald, it took centuries to grow his scales. For a being like him, his scales were a measure of not just durability, but also wisdom and age. The lifetime a dragon had lived was their pride. It embodied a lot of their character.