After addressing Daksha, the wise sage spoke again, questioning him: “Why do you not honor the Lord of Creatures, who alone is worthy of worship?” The sage continued, “There are many Rudras of mine, bearing tridents and matted hair, established in eleven places; we recognize no greater lord than him. There is one mantra for all, yet my lord is not invited. As I see it, beyond Shankara, there is no other deity. Thus, Daksha’s grand sacrifice cannot succeed.” He explained that various portions had been allotted to Vishnu and to the Rudras, as well as to other gods, but never to Shankara. Hearing this, the gods, understanding the situation, went to the daughter of the mountain king—Uma—who then spoke to Sharva, the great lord and master of all creatures. Uma asked, “O blessed one, where are these gods headed, led by Indra? Tell me truly, you who know all truth; this great doubt has arisen in me.” Shiva replied, “Daksha, O greatly fortunate, is the eminent lord of creatures; he is performing a horse sacrifice, and all the heavenly beings are going there.” Uma then asked, “O greatly fortunate one, why do you not follow this sacrifice? What prohibition prevents your going?” She continued, “O greatly fortunate, all this has been performed by the gods alone. In all sacrifices of mine, no share has been allotted to me.” Shiva answered, “O one of lovely complexion, one must go by the established path; the gods do not give me a rightful share of the sacrifice.” Uma praised Shiva, saying, “O blessed one, among all gods you surpass in power and virtues; you are unconquerable, unassailable, radiant, renowned, and glorious.” Shiva confessed, “By this exclusion from the share, O greatly fortunate, I have suffered great sorrow, and this trembling is immense.” Uma asked, “What gift, discipline, or austerity should I perform, so that my lord might obtain a share in the sacrifice among Indra and the other gods?” Shiva replied, “I know, O wide-eyed one, through meditation, and all the virtuous know as well; but today, through your delusion, along with Indra and the gods, all three worlds are destroyed. They praise me as lord of the sacrifice; they sing the Rathantara Sāma for me; the Brahmins worship me with Brahma-mantras; my priests prepare my share. Yet you boast like an ordinary person in the assembly of women; you praise yourself out of pride—there is no doubt.” He continued, “O goddess of the gods, I do not praise myself as you do; O lovely one, for the sake of the share, I will protect you.” Having spoken thus to his beloved wife Uma, who was dearest to his life, the blessed lord Shiva created from his mouth a being born from the fire of wrath. He commanded this being, “Go to the sacrifice; you are Maheshvara of Daksha. Swiftly destroy his ritual, with my permission.” At that moment, the sacrifice of Daksha was destroyed by the wrath of the goddess, who, at Rudra’s command, had assumed the form of a lion for sport. Bhadrakali, the great and fearsome Maheshvari, accompanied by her followers, became a witness to her own deed, joined together with that wrath. This divine being, Wrath, who made the abode of spirits his dwelling, became renowned as Virabhadra, the one who wipes away the goddess’s anger. Shiva then created, from the pores of his own body, the lords of the hosts—followers of Rudra, fierce hosts born of Rudra’s power and might. All these attendants of Rudra, each possessing Rudra’s might, descended swiftly by the hundreds and thousands. A tremendous clamor arose, as if filling the sky, created by all the hosts of Rudra, shaking the heavens. Terrified by that great sound, all the dwellers of heaven were shaken; the mountains crumbled and the earth itself trembled. The winds blew violently, the abode of Varuna was disturbed, the fires would not burn, and the sun did not shine. The planets did not shine, nor the stars or constellations; the sages gave no radiance, nor did the gods or the demons. In this prevailing darkness, the lords of the hosts began to burn everything; others broke and uprooted the terrible sacrificial posts. Some roared, others made strange noises, and yet others rushed about swiftly, moving as fast as wind and mind. The sacrificial vessels and altars were shattered; as they broke apart, they vanished like stars from the sky. Heaps of celestial food and drink, as massive as mountains, appeared—rivers of milk, ghee, sweet rice, and curds. Divine streams of honeyed water flowed, sands of crystal sugar, and delightful channels of molasses carrying all six tastes. There were meats of every kind, high and low, and all sorts of celestial delicacies—whatever could be licked or sucked. With many mouths, the hosts ate, plundered, and scattered the food; filled with Rudra’s wrath, their fury was like the fire of destruction. Devouring like mountains, terrifying all around, they played in many forms and hurled the celestial women about. Surrounded by these hosts, the mighty Virabhadra, empowered by Rudra’s wrath, was protected by all the gods. They swiftly destroyed the sacrifice near Bhadrakali, while others made dreadful sounds that struck terror into all beings. Others cut off the head of the sacrifice and uttered terrifying cries. Then Indra and the other gods, along with Daksha the progenitor, with joined palms, asked, “Tell us, who are you?