When the time comes to break the enemy’s ranks, the wise commander gathers his troops in close formation, for only with tightly grouped forces can the enemy’s line be pierced. Likewise, the adversary must guard their own close formations, ensuring they do not fracture under pressure. To achieve this, the leader shapes his army into a formation designed to break through the enemy at will. Four guards are assigned to protect each of the elephant’s feet, ensuring its safety in the tumult of battle. For chariots, four horses are yoked, and warriors clad in leather armor are positioned alongside. Archers are paired with these leather-armored men, who stand at the front, forming a protective barrier. Behind the archers, more archers are arrayed, followed by horses and chariots, and finally, elephants are stationed at the rear by the ruler’s command. Every element—foot soldiers, elephants, and horses—is arranged with great care. The bravest are placed at the front, revealing only their broad shoulders to the foe. To instill fear in the enemy, formations of timid men are used, but these faint-hearted should never be placed at the front. Instead, the courageous lead the way, inspiring those behind them. The tallest men, those with broad shoulders and steady, unwavering eyes, are chosen for the vanguard. Those who are closely united, quick to anger, fond of conflict, always cheerful and eager for battle—these are recognized as the true warriors, ever ready for combat. The tactics of battle extend to every detail: the care of elephants, including their water and other needs, is outlined. The movement of weapons and the roles of the infantry are prescribed, both for breaking the enemy and for safeguarding one’s own troops. Strategies for shattering close ranks of leather-armored men are set forth, as are methods for repelling archers in the heat of battle. Vehicles are tasked with retreating from a distance, while chariots are charged with striking terror into the enemy’s heart. Elephants have their own vital role: they break through dense formations, reunite scattered groups, and demolish walls, gates, towers, and even trees. The battlefield itself is chosen wisely—uneven ground for infantry, level fields for chariots and horses, muddy terrain for elephants. All formations are arranged so that the sun stands behind the army, and the guardians of the quarters are posted according to the auspicious directions of Venus and the Sun, with gentle winds blowing. Each warrior is inspired by name and lineage, promised pleasure and enjoyment upon victory, or the highest heaven should they fall. Conquering the enemy brings worldly enjoyment, but for those who perish, the supreme state is attained. No atonement for a warrior’s death equals that found in battle. The blood of heroes, shed on the field, washes away their sins; enduring wounds and death is their highest austerity. Thousands of celestial nymphs come to greet the hero fallen in battle, while the king gains merit for those who return defeated. But those who abandon their companions incur the sin of killing a Brahmin at every step—the gods themselves seek their destruction. Heroes who never turn back gain the fruit of a horse sacrifice, and victory belongs to the king who remains steadfast in righteousness. Warriors should meet their equals in battle; elephants, those who flee, spectators, the unarmed, and the fallen must not be killed. When the enemy is resting, asleep, crossing rivers or forests, or in the midst of difficult weather, then is the time for cunning and deceptive warfare to destroy them. In the chaos, warriors should seize their arms and cry out, “We are broken, we are broken by the others!” If a friend or great force arrives, the leader is struck down, the commander slain, and even the king routed. Yet, for those who have fled, a safe retreat is provided. Incense is offered, and powerful charms are invoked. Flags and musical instruments, meant to inspire awe and fear, are displayed. Upon victory, offerings are made to the gods and Brahmins, and the spoils—jewels and royal treasures—are distributed by the minister. The women of both the defeated and the victorious are to be protected from harm. When the enemy is captured, he is to be cared for as a son, and never again should he be fought. The customs of the land must be observed, and once the campaign is done, the victor returns home and enters his house. At this point, Puṣkara speaks: for the stability of royal fortune, just as Indra once composed a hymn to Śrī, so too should the king recite a hymn for victory. Indra himself had bowed to Śrī, the mother of all worlds, born from the ocean, her eyes like blooming lotuses, dwelling upon the chest of Viṣṇu. Śrī is the very embodiment of success, sacrificial oblations, the sacred exclamation, nectar, and the purifier of worlds. She is twilight, night, radiance, prosperity, intelligence, faith, and Sarasvatī herself. She is the knowledge of sacrifice, supreme knowledge, secret knowledge, and the wisdom of the self, bestowing the fruits of liberation. She alone is inquiry, the threefold Veda, commerce, and governance. With her gentle forms, she fills the entire world. Who but she possesses the form composed of all sacrifices, which is contemplated by yogis and is the very body of the mace-bearing Lord of gods? When she departed, the three worlds nearly perished, but now, by her presence, they flourish once more. All blessings—wives, sons, houses, friends, grain, wealth—come to the fortunate through her glance. Health, prosperity, the destruction of enemies, and happiness are easily gained by those upon whom she looks. She is the mother of all beings, while Hari, the god of gods, is their father. With Viṣṇu, she pervades the entire world, both moving and unmoving. Indra concludes his hymn: “Do not abandon honor, wealth, storehouses, house, possessions, body, or spouse, O purifier of all.” Thus, through wise conduct in war and devotion to the goddess, the king secures victory, prosperity, and the welfare of his realm.