A being of unimaginable power and terror appeared, one whose might was so fierce that he seemed like blazing fire before the eyes—unthinkable, indescribable, and terrifying to all creatures. None could assail or conquer him—not gods, demons, nor rākṣasas. He was a destroyer of mountain peaks, capable of drying up the ocean’s waters, a dreadful mover of worlds who resembled Death himself. As he approached, the venerable sage Kaśyapa, perceiving his intent, addressed him with concern. “Son,” Kaśyapa cautioned, “do not act rashly. Do not bring suffering upon yourself so suddenly. Let not the angry Vālakhilya sages and Marīcis burn you with their wrath.” To protect his son, Kaśyapa sought to appease the illustrious Vālakhilyas, ascetics purified by their austerities. He spoke to them for the welfare of all creatures: “Garuda wishes to undertake a great deed. O ascetics, you ought to grant him your permission.” Thus addressed by the venerable Kaśyapa, the sages departed, leaving the branch behind and journeying to the sacred mountain Himavat to pursue their austerities. With the sages gone, Garuda, the son of Vinatā, found his path blocked by the massive branch and asked his father, “Lord, where shall I release this branch of the tree? Please tell me a place devoid of humans.” Kaśyapa then told him of a mountain, inaccessible even to the mind, its caves blocked by snow and utterly devoid of people. Aiming for that vast mountain, Garuda, swift as thought, flew toward it, carrying the immense branch along with the elephant and tortoise. No strong man could have lifted such a branch, nor the hide of that great-bodied animal, but Garuda, grasping the huge bough, soared through the sky. Traveling a hundred thousand yojanas in but a short time, Garuda arrived at the mountain as his father had instructed. There, the sky-roaming bird released the great branch with a resounding crash. The wind from Garuda’s mighty wings struck the king of mountains, causing it to tremble, and as the trees collided, a rain of flowers fell. All around, the mountain’s peaks shattered, their gems and gold scattered, beautifying the great mountain. Many trees struck by the branch shone with golden blossoms, like clouds lit by lightning. Those trees, blooming with gold and mingled with the mountain’s minerals, gleamed in the sunlight. Taking his place atop the mountain peak, Garuda, the best of birds, began to devour both the elephant and the tortoise. Having finished his meal, the swift Tārkṣya leapt up from the summit. At that moment, ominous portents appeared among the gods, foretelling danger. Indra’s beloved thunderbolt blazed forth in fear. A fiery meteor, trailing smoke, fell from the sky; similar signs appeared among the Vasus, Rudras, and all the Ādityas. Among the Sādhyas, Maruts, and all other hosts of gods, each seized their own weapon and rushed against one another. In that battle between gods and asuras, the like of which had never been seen, winds howled with thunder and thousands of meteors fell. The sky, though cloudless, roared with a mighty sound, and even the god of gods rained down blood. The garlands of the gods withered, their brilliance faded, and dreadful clouds poured much blood. Dust rose up and struck their crowns. Terrified and disturbed, Indra and the gods, seeing these dreadful omens, turned to Bṛhaspati. “O blessed one,” Indra asked, “why have these terrible omens suddenly arisen? I see no enemy in battle who could overpower us.” Bṛhaspati replied, “Because of your fault, O Indra, and your negligence, O wielder of the thunderbolt, the austerity of the great-souled Vālakhilya sages has empowered the son of Kaśyapa—the sky-roaming child of Vinatā, strong and able to assume any form at will. He has set out to seize the Soma. That bird, supreme among the mighty, is capable of taking the Soma; I believe he could accomplish anything, even what seems impossible.” Hearing this, Śakra (Indra) spoke to the guardians of the nectar: “A bird of immense strength and power is now preparing to take the Soma. I am alerting you all—take up your defensive weapons and surround the nectar on every side, following my command here. Guard it, O heroic gods, so that he does not seize it by force; for his strength is unmatched,” Bṛhaspati advised. The gods, astonished at these words, took up their positions with determination, surrounding the nectar, with Indra the thunderer standing radiant among them. They wore splendid golden armor adorned with precious gems and inlaid with beryl, their minds resolute. They donned shining, sturdy coats of mail and wielded many kinds of terrifying weapons in various forms. The best of the gods raised weapons with sharp, keen edges, blazing with sparks and smoke. They took up discus, iron clubs, tridents, battle-axes, sharp spears, spotless swords, and maces of fearsome appearance, each suited to their own form. Adorned with divine ornaments and bearing radiant weapons, the hosts of gods stood shining, free from all stain, ready to defend the sacred nectar against Garuda’s approach.