The plaza was alive with energy, a riot of excitement painted across countless faces. Joy, exhilaration, and anticipation surged in waves, each apprentice sorcerer seeming to compete with the next in their display of spirited eagerness. Yet amidst the cacophony, one figure remained apart, almost entirely detached from the celebratory atmosphere. Grimm, clad in his gleaming metal armor and carrying the formidable Hydra Greatsword on his back, stood quietly among the throngs. At his side, a One-Time Space Pouch hung from his belt, and beneath his pale mask, his eyes were heavy with fatigue, constantly analyzing and calculating as if no rest had ever been permitted. The events of the previous night, the grand ball with Lafey, had not led Grimm to lingering in personal delight. Instead, he had chosen solitude, dedicating himself to the meticulous study of the Undying Flame Sorcery. Even now, his mind worked tirelessly, calculating the final foundational Annihilation