With godlike talent from the start, how did he become invincible?

Chapter 586 The Beastmen Invasion

The orcish attack was halted. More than a third of their infantry were killed or wounded, and the rest began to retreat. The catapults in the rear also ceased firing—they had run out of ammunition.

Bloodstains and shattered rubble were everywhere on the city walls. The groans of wounded soldiers mingled with the shouts of captains rallying their troops, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of blood and burning.

Fang Ping sheathed his twin swords, walked over to Lin Tian, ​​and plopped down on the ground, panting heavily. "You...you did more damage by yourself than our entire team combined."

"Good teamwork," Lin Tian said. This wasn't just polite talk—if it weren't for the warriors holding the line in front and the archers providing support from the sidelines, he really wouldn't have been able to attack without any worries.

Fang Ping waved his hand, indicating that there was no need to be modest. He pulled a water bottle from his waist and took a few gulps before continuing, "I'll go report to Colin later. With your record, it would be an injustice not to report it."

Before he could finish speaking, footsteps suddenly came from below the city wall. A messenger ran up the wall and stopped in front of Fang Ping.

"Captain Fang Ping, here are the deputy captain's orders." The messenger panted, "The orcs have retreated, and the city wall defenses are mostly intact. The deputy captain wants you to report the new recruits' kill count to headquarters; he wants to see it personally."

Fang Ping grinned, but the smile aggravated the wound on his arm, causing him to wince in pain. "Go tell the vice-captain that recruit Lin Tian's kill count is too high; I can't keep up. Let him come and count it himself."

The messenger stood there, stunned. Fang Ping stood up, dusted himself off, waved to the messenger, and told him to go back and report.

Then he turned around and looked at Lin Tian. His eyes no longer held the initial probing and scrutinizing look, but instead showed the recognition of a veteran towards a strong person.

"With you on our patrol team from now on, we feel more at ease."

Lin Tian glanced at the retreating remnants of the beastmen in the distance, but said nothing.

The alarms on the city walls were not completely lifted, and black smoke was still rising from the orc camp in the distance.

This is just the first wave.

......

After the orcs' first wave of attack was repelled, the city walls remained quiet for less than half an hour.

Lin Tian leaned against the crenellation and closed his eyes to rest, but his senses always covered the entire area outside the city wall.

Outside the city wall, the faint sounds of sporadic fires could still be heard; it was the logistics team burning orc corpses.

In the afternoon, the alarm sounded again, sharper and more urgent than before.

Fang Ping suddenly stood up, grabbed his twin swords, and rushed to the edge of the battlements. When he saw what was outside, his face turned pale.

"Five hundred...at least five hundred."

This time, the orcs came out in almost their entire force.

The gray tide surging across the wasteland was denser and wider than the first wave. More than five hundred orcs were divided into three square formations—infantrymen wielding axes in the very center, slingers on the left, and surprisingly, wolf riders on the right. These orcs riding on the backs of gray wolves wore leather armor, wielded scimitars, and drool still clung to the wolves' mouths.

At the very back, three enormous bone pillars were being pushed up. Each pillar was as thick as two people could hug, and a green crystal core was embedded at its top, emitting a faint glow in the smoke.

A shaman's totem pole.

Fang Ping cursed. "The shaman is here too."

The atmosphere on the city wall changed abruptly. All the veterans knew what shamans meant—those totem poles could provide massive buffs to orc infantry and throw spells onto the city wall.

The commander's voice echoed across the entire city wall: "All personnel in position—archers cover the center, ballistae prioritize slingers and shaman totems, mages activate defensive barriers, all warriors—"

He paused, then raised his voice: "Hold your positions, or you'll die."

The horn sounded again, making the bricks and stones on the city wall tremble slightly.

Not one sound, but three sounds in unison.

Then the enemy began to advance.

The orc infantry in the central formation let out a roar and charged toward the city gate on their short, thick legs; the slingers on the left flank opened fire at the same time, dozens of stone projectiles arcing through the air and crashing toward the city wall; the wolf riders on the right flank began to accelerate, flanking the city wall from the outside, trying to find a breakthrough from the flank.

The crossbows on the city wall fired first, sending more than a dozen bolts hurtling towards the enemy.

Two crossbow bolts struck a shamanic totem pole. The pole shuddered violently, several cracks appearing on its surface, but it didn't fall. The bolt tips were embedded in the bone core, its green crystal still glowing.

Immediately afterwards, a rain of arrows poured down from the archers, the dense shadows weaving a net in the air. The arrows landed in the central army formation, the orcs at the front fell to the ground, but the orcs behind them continued their charge without stopping, stepping over the corpses of their comrades.

The catapults' stones struck the city wall, each hit causing the runes to flash, and in some places the runes had already shattered.

The shaman has made his move.

Three totem poles simultaneously lit up with green light, and three green halos spread out from the center of the army, covering the entire orc formation. The orc infantrymen enveloped by the halos visibly swelled their muscles, their eyes turned blood red, and their running speed nearly doubled.

"Shaman's Blood Rage!" Fang Ping slashed down an orc who had just climbed onto the ramparts, then roared back, "Where's the mage? Blow up that totem!"

The mages were about to strike, but the shaman was faster. A second wave of spells was unleashed—not to buff their own side, but to attack.

Three green fireballs shot from the top of the totem pole, trailing fiery tails as they flew straight towards the city wall. The first one struck a defensive rune in the middle of the wall, instantly shattering it and sending several archers flying. The second hit a ballista, shattering its wooden frame and knocking down the gunner with shrapnel. The third headed straight for the middle section of the wall where Lin Tian was located.

Lin Tian raised his right hand.

Shinra Tensei.

A terrifying repulsive force erupted from his palm, shattering the green fireball in mid-air into countless tiny sparks that scattered and fell. Several sparks landed on the city wall, burning out craters the size of fists.

He stood at the edge of the crenellations and glanced down. The orcs had already erected over a dozen siege ladders, and orcs were frantically climbing them. Their eyes were blood red; the shaman's Blood Rage spell had made them fearless and ruthless.

Fang Ping, positioned on his flank, wielded his twin swords in a blur of motion, while simultaneously shouting to Lin Tian, ​​"We need reinforcements on the east side of the city wall! The breach is too large; the brothers can't hold on!"

"You guys go," Lin Tian said. "I'll stay here."

Fang Ping gritted his teeth, left one soldier and one archer for Lin Tian, ​​and led the rest of his men to charge eastward.

Lin Tian turned around to face the orcs surging up from outside the battlements.