CHAPTER 231: RECOGNITION

"Let’s see then... what ideas do you have?" Flogga asked, curiosity tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Hmmm..." I hesitated, already regretting bringing it up. But I’d come this far. No turning back now.

I cleared my throat and started listing.

"The Green Demons... The Green Bastards... Goblin Supremacy... Goblin Universal... The Jade Midgets..."

I trailed off, lowering my voice by the end like saying it softer would somehow make it less ridiculous.

That’s where I stopped.

Flogga stared at me.

Not blinked. Not laughed. Just stared.

I raised both hands, palms out. "I know. I know—they’re awful."

"They are," she said without missing a beat, her face perfectly neutral. "But who says the name has to be serious?"

That caught me off guard.

"I think ’Jade Midgets’ is rather interesting."

I blinked. Hard.

My eyes widened as I leaned in slightly, trying to read her face. "You’re serious?"

She gave a small shrug, a smirk creeping onto her face.

"Yes, it’s funny," Flogga said with a grin that deepened the creases on her face. "I think anyone who hears it wouldn’t take us seriously—and that would be their mistake. Imagine it: ’The Jade Midgets are here.’ Makes it sound like a joke... right up until we’re wrecking their camp and taking their heads."

I couldn’t help but grin at that.

The name was indeed memorable.

"Alright," I said, the smile still on my face. "I’m going to choose it."

Flogga gave a slow, approving nod.

"I’m serious," I added, half-expecting her to backpedal.

She nodded again, unbothered, as if to say Go on then. Do it.

Taking a breath, I brought up the system screen, the translucent interface flickering to life in front of me.

[You have met the requirements to establish a permanent settlement.]

[You are now the leader of a settlement.]

[Please select a name for the settlement.]

I stared at the text for a moment, then said clearly, "I’d like to name my clan The Jade Midgets, please."

A beat passed.

Then the system responded:

[Name Registered: The Jade Midgets]

[Would you like to make it official?]

I smiled.

"Yes," I said.

Ding!

[Your clan has been successfully named: The Jade Midgets]

It was done.

Ding!

[Your clan has been officially recognized]

Yay... recognition.

Though, as I stared at the glowing text, the initial excitement dulled.

Recognition sounded nice—until you realized what it actually meant.

It meant we were on the map now. Registered. Visible. No longer some nameless cluster of green-skinned stragglers tucked away in the mountains.

That could be good... or it could be the worst thing to happen to us.

Recognition meant eyes. And eyes meant interest. And in this world, interest rarely came without bloodshed.

Still, I pushed the thought aside for now. No point in spiraling just yet.

Another notification chimed.

Ding!

[You have been granted rewards.]

Oh?

I blinked.

Wait, rewards?

I hadn’t expected that.

I was just naming the damn clan—who knew that came with perks?

[You have been granted a clan passive buff skill: Clan Unity]

[You have been granted a unique skill: Totem’s Mandate]

Two rewards.

I didn’t waste time. I opened their descriptions right away.

[Clan Unity I]

: All goblins under this clan receive +10% to morale and resist fear-type effects while within territory.

[Totem’s Mandate]: Once per day, you can increase one stat of your goblins by 10% for 5 minutes. You can also issue a command to all clan members within range.

I read through them once. Then again.

Huh.

These weren’t just fluff rewards—they were actually useful. Strategic. Designed for real battle application.

Clan Unity being passive made it especially valuable. +10% morale was already solid, but the added resistance to fear-type effects? That was where it shined.

If our territory was invaded—if a stronger foe showed up with some terrifying aura or presence—my goblins wouldn’t crumble or flee. They’d hold.

They’d fight with clear minds and steady hands, even when faced with overwhelming odds.

It wouldn’t help much outside our borders, though. If we were caught on neutral ground or someone else’s turf, that resistance wouldn’t apply.

But within our land?

It meant we had home-field advantage. And that... was quite nice.

Then there was [Totem Mandate].

The ability to issue a command to all of my goblins at once—now that was something I could see becoming incredibly useful, especially during chaotic battles. Coordinated movement, fallback orders, a surprise flank—none of it would require messengers or shouting across the field. Just one command, and every ear under my banner would hear it.

And the stat boost—10% to any one attribute, once per day, for five minutes. Not groundbreaking, but significant if used at the right moment. A surge of strength before a clash, a burst of speed during a retreat, or increased vitality mid-defense—it could turn the tide if timed well.

Still, I couldn’t help but temper my excitement with a dose of realism.

If I had access to something like this... odds were, other clan chiefs did too. Maybe not exactly the same skills, but similar equivalents. A buff here, a passive there. The system clearly wanted to give leaders tools to manage their people.

So was it special? Maybe not in the grand scheme.

Which meant what it always meant—if I wanted an edge, I’d have to build it myself. Stronger goblins. Smarter formations. Better tactics. No shortcut was going to carry us through this.

I dismissed the screen and turned to Flogga, intending to let her know the deed was done.

But she was already back to work.

Now behind the massive pot, freshly secured over the fire, she stirred the thickening contents with a large wooden staff that doubled as her stirring spoon.

Her face was set in that same focused, no-nonsense expression she wore whenever she was deep in action—this time deep in a recipe.

I opened my mouth but stopped.

Yeah... not the right time.

I stepped away from the fire, only to catch sight of...