Whether it sounded proper or not didn't affect Lynn's good mood in the slightest.
The so-called "power from outside the world" could, in his case, just as easily be called "power from within the world."
Because it belonged to his world incarnation.
Before falling back into slumber, Teyvat's planetary will had left him a message. It explained that the reason for granting him the Pyro Authority was to help mask the aura emitted when he used his own power. Combined with the concealment it had already set up, this would further reduce the chance of being detected.
The "own power" it referred to was naturally not Lynn's personal strength, but the power of his world incarnation.
Lynn understood this clearly—it was also a form of advice.
A warning to take it easy.
Use the authority for minor matters. After all, Teyvat was only a planetary will, heavily wounded and about to enter slumber. The concealment it had established was limited.
If he truly needed to use his own power, the authority could also serve as a layer of disguise. Even if he accidentally broke the concealment, it would still reduce the chance of being detected by the universe's operating mechanisms and triggering rejection.
Lynn was someone who knew how to take advice. He could tell the difference between good intentions and empty words.
But just as Teyvat advised caution rather than forbidding usage outright, he needed to understand his own limits.
The environment wasn't ideal, and he didn't intend to push things recklessly. But he needed to know how much power produced what kind of effect.
Otherwise, when the time came, misjudging his own strength—whether underestimating or overestimating it—would both be disastrous.
That was why he had performed that "magic trick" earlier.
In essence, using the connection between his main body and his incarnation, Lynn anchored himself as a focal point and projected the power of his world incarnation into reality.
It overlaid a portion of the world, replacing the original operational rules within that area with his own.
In that domain, his will became Heaven's Will, just as it had when he entered his world incarnation.
He could freely modify and reshape reality.
Repairing the ship?
Simple.
All he needed to do was reverse and refresh the material state of the ship. As long as basic logic—like conservation of mass—was maintained, he could simply pull matter from elsewhere to fill in the gaps.
This wasn't done through telekinesis or brute force.
It was done by temporarily altering the rules so that reality itself "should be this way." Once the original rules returned, they wouldn't revert the changes.
Because the laws governing the world followed fixed patterns and lacked subjective initiative—unless something violated them.
And what Aveline had sensed in that instant was the internal environment of Lynn's world incarnation.
As the companion of Heaven's Will, wasn't it only natural for her to be favored by all elements within that world?
However, this method wasn't something he could use freely.
This world already had an owner.
Forcibly inserting himself and taking over a portion would naturally provoke resistance from what already occupied that space.
More importantly, that "owner" wasn't Teyvat's planetary will, but the worldly order established by the Heavenly Principles—a rigid system without even a macro consciousness.
Naturally, it wouldn't allow Lynn to act as he pleased.
Even so, this was an incredibly powerful trump card.
With the projection of his world descending and himself acting as Heaven's Will, as long as he didn't violate fundamental logic—such as creating something from nothing—he could define all rules within that domain at will.
Even creating something from nothing wasn't impossible…
It would just consume origin.
And that was something Lynn absolutely couldn't afford right now.
But even without that, it was enough.
In this state, the most terrifying method wasn't raw energy blasts or natural disasters.
It was rejection, denial, and erasure at the level of rules themselves—targeting matter and energy from their very foundation.
So what if maintaining the projection consumed a lot?
It didn't consume world origin—it could be recovered.
And more importantly, if he couldn't sustain it for long, neither could his enemies.
Unless they possessed authority over rules themselves, they wouldn't even qualify to resist.
Of course, his world incarnation was still in its infancy.
Right now, even an ordinary god-level being could probably endure his projection.
But as it grew, everything would change.
'I wonder who'll be the first unlucky soul to force me to use this…'
Aveline returned.
As expected, she hadn't found anything unusual.
But she had successfully retrieved the phlogiston bomb.
"Here."
She handed him the small, gem-like object. Lynn took it and put it away.
"Are you hungry? I checked the kitchen—there are plenty of ingredients. If you are, I can cook something. After that, you'll have to help me steer the ship."
She shifted to practical matters.
The ship was no longer the problem.
The problem was that there was no crew left.
Fortunately, Aveline knew how to operate it.
Still, as a chef, her first concern was whether Lynn was hungry.
"Steer the ship…"
Lynn suddenly had an idea.