"If you don't want to die, beg them!"
Tuotuo's icy voice pierced through, directly drilling into the Little Ming King's ears.
He looked up at this moment and saw Liu Futong, Peng Yingyu, Fang Guozhen, and that damned Chen Jiusi.
At this moment, Tuotuo spoke with a seemingly magical power: "Haha, Little Ming King, Han Lin'er, son of Han Shantong, you are the Hierarch of the Zoroastrian Sect, they are your subordinates, and your father's good brothers. Although I never saw it with my own eyes, I understand that they must have told you how close they were to your father, right?"
"How deep their brotherly bond was. As your father's only offspring, according to their relationship with him, they should treat you as their own son. So, it shouldn't be difficult for you to get them to surrender, right? Wouldn't you at least have the qualification to persuade them to surrender?"
"Are you still the Hierarch? Are you still the son of the Ming King?"
