The Molten Smith

When the Iron Walker finally stops wandering and plants their forge in one place, truly commits to mastery, a transformation begins. The forge-fire they've carried within for so long begins to merge with their body. Veins of molten metal trace glowing paths beneath the skin. The tools of the trade no longer need to be held, they orbit the Smith in a slow, deliberate dance, responding to will alone.

The Molten Smith is the first rank where others seek you out. Lesser forge-beings come from across the burning lands to request your work, your blessing, your judgment on their creations. The Master's Apron, once simple leather, is now woven with living metal threads that shift and flow with every movement.

At this level, the boundary between smith and forge begins to blur. Metal bends to will. Temperature is controlled by thought. The Molten Smith doesn't just work with fire, they are becoming fire.