The sage, following the ancient codes of conduct, declared that one should never speak the Yavana language—not even when life hangs by a thread. Thus, the revered sage recited these words of smṛti, imparting their wisdom to all who listened. Present among those listeners was a courtesan, whose birth traced back to the Mlecchas. Upon hearing the sage’s pronouncement, she became enraged. With canes, she struck the sage and, wielding her own mystical power, transformed him once more into a parrot. At that moment, the goddess Svarṇavatī assumed a beautiful female form. Briefly taking the guise of a hawk, she prepared to depart from that place. But Makaraṃda, recognizing her divine connection to Krishna, seized her feet and brought her to his own home. Meanwhile, Śobhanā awoke and found herself in the depths of the cage. In her distress, she cried, “What shall I do? Where shall I go, bereft of my supreme beloved?” As she despaired, a Piśāca appeared nearby—a being skilled in the magic of intoxication. Mahāmada, now satisfied, journeyed to the temple of Shiva. There, the blessed Lord Shiva, pleased with his devotion, spoke kindly to his servant: “Come with me to Mayūranagara.” Obediently, the Piśāca accompanied Shiva, bringing with him a retinue of five thousand dancers. Elsewhere, Indula and Tāhlāda, awakened by the enchanting illusion of Vishnu, made their way to Mayūranagara and approached Makaraṃda. At the same time, Śobhanā, the courtesan, arrived with Sahura and his army. Suddenly, from all directions, a mighty wind arose, carrying thick, ominous clouds. The darkness of this terrifying illusion spread everywhere. Yet, with the weapon of Śani, the mighty one burned the illusion to ashes. Undeterred, Śobhanā conjured a new illusion—one of irresistible desire. All the Kṣatriyas, who witnessed the mesmerizing dance, fell into confusion and lost consciousness. At this critical moment, Svarṇavatī, the goddess Kāmākṣī, entered a deep meditation, journeyed to Mayūradhvaja, and bound the bewildered warriors with chains. Mahāmada, perceiving these events, turned his mind toward devoted meditation on Rudra. In the ensuing chaos, tigers, lions, boars, and monkeys attacked men, spreading terror. Again, Svarṇavatī, as goddess Kāmākṣī, entered meditation, and from her power, Garudas and mighty Śarabhas sprang forth. As cries of fear rang out and the army scattered in all directions, Sahura and his dancers were overwhelmed and crushed, even as joy overtook them in their defeat. Thus, O best of sages, the great battle raged for four months. This, O brahmin, is the account—what more would you wish to hear? Eager for further knowledge, the listener asked, “Where and how did these events unfold? Out of kindness, please tell me everything.” When spring arrived, the celestial beings gathered to play in that place. Manjughosha, the queen of song, assembled at the abode of Shuka. There, she performed enchanting songs, dances, and other melodies, until she herself was overcome by desire. Blessed Shuka, inspired by her presence, composed a beautiful hymn of praise. Hearing those auspicious words, Manjughosha responded with gentle speech. Acting on the words exchanged between them, they united, and from their union, a son named Muni was born. In time, Muni was given the daughter of Svarṇadeva as his wife. Content in his heart, he enjoyed her company, and together they brought forth an excellent son. This goddess, radiant with beauty and youth, devoted herself to austerities. Pleased by her devotion, the blessed Shankara, benefactor of the world, appeared before her. The sage addressed Shankara with reverence: “O god of gods, I bow to you.” Hearing this, Shiva spoke: “After thirty years on earth, all this will come to an end.