That was not the fluctuation of overflowing energy, but more like a sign that a form had been lightly disturbed.
In the palm of her left hand, countless fine silver lines surfaced. The lines were extraordinarily cold, carrying, faintly, a sharpness that seemed able to dissect all things.
In the palm of her right hand, however, the pale-green lines that had appeared before were extremely faint, almost impossible to make out.
Soon, as Lin Jiayin released her power, the table arranged before Shen Yi and Wen Ke'er was enveloped by Lin Jiayin's power at incredible speed.
An invisible field covered the oak table.
The outline of the table began to blur and flicker to the eye, like an image with a bad signal.
The matter that made up the table—the wood fibers, the tiny traces of resin, the dust clinging to it, even the air in the gaps between the wood cells—began to loosen from their stable structures.
Then chaotic light flashed.
The light was not dazzling. It was more like countless tiny points of different-colored light rapidly flowing, colliding, and re-forming where the table had originally been.
That was the process of matter being broken down to a microscopic level, then rearranged and recombined under Lin Jiayin's guidance.
When the light faded, what appeared in its place was an extremely standard cube about one meter on each side.
Its surface was smooth as a mirror. The wooden grain had completely vanished, replaced by an even dark brown, as though it were an industrial product cut by the most precise machine tool.
Naturally grown oak could never have formed such a regular geometric shape.
This was not merely decomposition, but also reconstruction—a recombination according to the concept in Lin Jiayin's mind.
Though that concept was simple and crude, it had