Most of the flames had died down, and countless animals that had narrowly escaped were hiding in safe places, staring blankly at the devastated world. No creature attacked another now, even if moments before the disaster they had been preying on each other.

It was not out of intention or strength but perhaps due to shock or exhaustion.

The cause of the catastrophe couldn't be traced, and was impossible to determine. It might have been a lightning strike, a volcanic eruption, or even a heat attack from some creature—like an electric spark...

What Gah-Gah did not know was that the fire had spread across nearly 80% of the central continent's forests due to their dense concentration. It wasn't that Gah-Gah couldn't imagine it, but that he dared not.

"How many lives were destroyed by such a fire?"

"If the forests are all gone, what about oxygen? Do we have to return to the ocean?"

At that moment, Gah-Gah reaffirmed his determination to develop a civilization, "Because at least with civilization, there is a potential to resist such forces."

Looking back at the darkened land, Gah-Gah breathed a small sigh of relief. Most of his few hundred Gah-Gah Beasts survived due to their quick reaction, save for a few that were suffocated by smoke.

But this was mainly because the small patch of land they inhabited was not far from the ocean, where the moisture helped prevent the smoke and embers from igniting the forest hidden in the darkness created by the smoke.

"In the end, the ocean protected us," Gah-Gah mused, gazing at the hellish opposite shore, then turning to look at the ocean obscured by darkness and bewilderment. "This is why the ocean is considered the mother of life, while land is its conquest."

Taking one last look at the hellish opposite shore and then at the countless animals around him still drowning in fear, Gah-Gah shook off the ashes clinging to him and turned away. With hundreds of Gah-Gah Beasts, he avoided these animals, gradually disappearing into the fog-laden, ocean-scented forest.

"This time I'll spare you; I'm not taking advantage now. Once you recover, come and be my prey, hmph!"

...

※※※

The thick smoke lingered for days. Because the consciousness's perception of time differed from the world's actual time, Gah-Gah wasn't sure how long it had taken for the smoke to dissipate. It wasn't until the Gah-Gah Beasts, who had taken refuge in the cool forest to escape the scorching air, were frozen awake one morning that the sky had cleared.

But the land wasn't so fortunate. The pervasive smoke hadn't vanished suddenly but instead settled slowly over the ground, covering it with a thick layer of grey and white.

"It's so thick!"

This was Gah-Gah's first exclamation after struggling to get half his body out of the dust following his awakening from hibernation. One after another, Gah-Gah Beasts emerged from the dust around him, shaking off the bothersome ash that made them cough repeatedly.

"Thankfully, being cold-blooded means just one meal can last a long time if no big movements are made; otherwise, without food for so long, we might have starved." Every coin has two sides, good and bad, "But I still prefer being warm-blooded; it provides more active time, without having to just sit and wait. Ah—achoo—"

"These guys don’t know to be careful, stirring up dust everywhere!"

After letting out a long sneeze, Gah-Gah quickly moved away from the newly emerged Gah-Gah Beasts and began to lead the now-awakened Gah-Gah Beasts on a patrol around the group.

Whether from dust or reduced oxygen, Gah-Gah felt his and the others' breathing heavier than usual, leading many animals to sense danger and flee before Gah-Gah could approach, which frustrated him.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Why didn't I notice my body felt so heavy before?"

Dragging his heavy body, Gah-Gah led the recuperated Gah-Gah Beasts toward the previous riverbank, "Let me see what the world looks like in the sunlight after the disaster."

...

Time, in its callous dance, continued unabated, disregarding anything that stood in its path.

The devastated forest gradually became buried under silt, transforming much of the once-green central continent into a yellow desert. Fortunately, the Gah-Gah Beasts hadn't ventured deeply into it and had taken refuge in a surviving forest, avoiding the perilous desert existence where even water scarcity led to frantic races for survival.

Somewhat reluctantly, Gah-Gah slipped into what he had christened the "River of Life," previously known to be the River of the Dead, as it had once been a scene of hell for millions, possibly billions, of corpses during the catastrophe. Initially, he had considered naming it the River Styx for its hellish aspect, but remembering this river and the ocean's moisture had provided his kind an escape, he settled on "River of Life." "Wait, why am I thinking of the River Styx?"

Suddenly shivering, Gah-Gah quickly shook the thoughts away, "Never mind, let's consider it a memorial for those lost lives, River Styx or River of Life, a coincidence?"

After swimming for a bit and replenishing surface moisture, Gah-Gah led a few dozen Gah-Gah Beasts to the opposite bank.

With memory and analysis combined, Gah-Gah figured the other side might have animals with waterproof skin, which would significantly enhance his species’ terrestrial range, unlike their current dependence on returning to water to maintain skin moisture.

As for warm-blooded components, body temperature control, and the like, "It's best to take one step at a time."

Quietly lurking in the water by the riverbank, Gah-Gah had no intention of going ashore. Even with water-repellent skin, life still requires internal hydration, and this riverbank was the most convenient spot along the river for drinking—an observation Gah-Gah had made after long-term observations from the water.

Naturally, Gah-Gah wasn't the only one aware of this; many large predators also lurked nearby. However, they seemed content to stay in their own territories, not provoking others unless prey appeared, at which point they'd spring into action. Gah-Gah Beasts wisely avoided the stronger animals, and securing a small ambush point against weaker carnivores, they began their vigil.

High noon sunshine gradually passed, and a red sun began its descent to the west as two round moons appeared. A few potential prey animals ventured near the riverbank. Gah-Gah perked up, signaling the Gah-Gah Beasts to hold their breath, waiting for the prey to approach.

But reality proved disappointing; as the prey neared the ambush site, an inexperienced animal among the ambushers impatiently leaped out too soon, scaring off the prey—leaving them no chance to react. The rash beast was soon chastised and chased back into the river by an annoyed peer, indicating it wouldn't be hunting here again today.

"Rookie, never mind."

Unable to react in time, Gah-Gah glanced at the dejected newcomer, reflecting on its impromptu lesson as it lingered in the water, seeking nimble aquatic prey.

The sun sank slowly below the horizon, and under the twin moons' glow, night fell.

With low visibility and dropping temperatures, all amphibious hunters retreated into warmer water, with many leaving their ambush points to rest for the night.

Gah-Gah, despite feeling sleepy, remained in the river near the bank. Some hunters' departure had allowed the Gah-Gah Beasts to expand their ambush zone. In the chill moonlight, vague silhouettes appeared, likely wanting to replenish water supply under night's cover.

The silhouettes crept closer, revealing twenty or so fellow reptiles. Judging by their blunt teeth within short jaws, they were likely herbivorous, with sturdy limbs and slightly smaller bodies than Gah-Gah Beasts, topped with somewhat dry skin.

"Not much to remark on. Let's call you little dog beasts." Gah-Gah mused.

Perhaps due to sparse hunters and nightfall's concealment, the little dog beasts hadn't detected danger. Led by a few, the group cautiously approached the riverbank to drink.

Their small heads rippled the river surface, and one little dog beast, near Gah-Gah’s position, caused Gah-Gah to instruct nearby Gah-Gah Beasts to stealthily circle the ripples, forming a small ring.

Prolonged thirst seemed to have given the little dog beasts some water-storage adaptation, as the current one guzzled vast amounts, its upper belly noticeably swelling.

"Another useful component."

Gah-Gah's eyes gleamed (hypothetically), carefully advancing with each slosh as the little dog beast drank.

Suddenly, the little dog beast raised its head, sensing something, the small round holes at the back of its head—presumably ears—turning with it.

In the stillness of the moonlit riverside, aside from the drinking sounds and the faint footsteps of a few herbivores arriving from behind, there was little else.

After a brief scan and sensing no threat, the little dog beast bent its neck again, lowering its short mouth to the river, allowing Gah-Gah, with only one body length away, to relax, loosening his grip on submerged plants and lifting his order restricting the accompanying Gah-Gah Beasts’ movements.

Gah-Gah noticed that, due to the direct order restraint, several upstream Gah-Gah Beasts had silently drifted to just half a body length below the little dog beast, their horns nearly piercing the surface.

"Oops, should have used the current too."

Having discovered a good ambush method, Gah-Gah immediately applied it, feeling out the current's flow and calculating his drift position, gently gliding forward toward the prey.

Suddenly, the sound of something heavy splashing into the water startled all the riverside animals.