From the city bearing the name of Tāraka, the Daityas, led by their fierce chief Tāraka, surged forth in anger, resembling mighty serpents emerging from their holes. Yet, as these Daityas charged ahead, their advance was blocked by the chiefs of the Pramatha hosts, who stood firm like lion leaders confronting elephant kings. Amidst these proud warriors, their forms blazed brilliantly, akin to flames of fire glowing more fiercely when stirred. Drawing their great bows, the combatants filled the air with dreadful sounds from every direction, striking one another with arrows that seemed to feast upon life itself. The Danavas, upon seeing attendants whose faces resembled cats, deer, and terrifying beasts, and whose features were distorted, laughed loudly and repeatedly, taking pride in their own beauty. With arms shaped like iron clubs, the Daityas drew their bows and released arrows that pierced the armor of warriors, much like birds diving into a lake. Taunting their foes, the Danavas shouted harshly, “Where are you going, now that you are dead? We will kill you—turn back!” These words were directed at the chief attendants. In response, the Pramatha hosts shattered the Daityas and Danavas with sharp arrows, their assault likened to sun rays breaking apart clouds. Even those demons with lion-like eyes and strides were struck down, as fragments of rocks, boulders, and trees were hurled upon them. The city itself appeared overwhelmed by the Danavas, as the sky is crowded with swans or the ocean filled with clouds. The Daitya lords, drawing their bows, unleashed a storm of arrows, their chests streaked like clouds in a turbulent season, creating a day of tempestuous battle. The chiefs of the hosts, repeatedly struck by arrows, released the essence of their bodies, as mountains yield gold ore under pressure. Daityas, battered by trees, stones, thunderbolts, spears, and axes, were crushed like glass shattered by blows. Tripura shone forth, dominated by mighty and terrifying demons, swelling like the ocean at the rise of the full moon. In the midst of battle, the Daityas proclaimed, “This one named Tāraka is victorious!” while the chiefs of the hosts declared, “Indra and Rudra are victorious!” Within this ocean of battle, warriors were blocked and torn apart by arrows, the sounds echoing like clouds filled with water during the rainy season. The battlefield became a terrifying sight, filled with severed hands and heads, pale banners, and umbrellas, overflowing with flesh and blood. Suddenly, Danavas and attendants, struck hard by mighty weapons, leapt into the sky, only to fall before their enemies. Witnessing these powerful blows, Siddhas, Apsaras, and Charanas moving through the sky cried out in delight, “Excellent! Excellent!” Celestial drums resounded unstruck in the heavens, roaring like clouds, as if enraged like wild beasts. In Tripura, the Daityas entered the rivers like serpents entering anthills, their faces furious, as rivers flow into the ocean. In the city called Tāraka, the heroic gods, armed on all sides, fell like winged mountains. The chiefs of the hosts fought in three divisions within Tripura; Vidyunmali and Maya, too, were submerged like trees swept away in battle. Vidyunmālī, lord of the Daityas and radiant as a mountain, seized a terrible iron club and struck Nandin. Hit firmly by the club, Nandin staggered, just as Nārāyaṇa once did under the influence of Madhu. When Nandīśvara departed from the battlefield, the renowned and valiant Gaṇas, filled with wrath, rushed at Asura Vidyunmālin. Then, the attendants Ghaṇṭākarṇa, Śaṅkukarṇa, and Mahākāla showered all the Gaṇas and their leaders with arrows. Again and again, Vidyunmālī pierced the greatest of the Gaṇeśvaras, and as he struck them, their roars thundered across the sky. Roused by the clamor of battle, Nandin, shining like the sun, regained consciousness and charged at Vidyunmālī. Nandin hurled a blazing thunderbolt, gifted by Rudra and shining like burning fire, at the Daitya whose limbs were as hard as adamant. The dreadful thunderbolt, adorned with pearls, struck the Daitya’s chest. Though Vidyunmālī’s body was as hard as a thunderbolt, he fell, just as a mountain struck by Indra’s bolt. Seeing their lord slain by Nandin, the delight of his lineage, the Dānavas wailed in grief, and the leaders of the Gaṇas fled. Distressed and enraged at Vidyunmālī’s fall, the clouds themselves seemed to pour down a storm of trees and mountains, mourning his loss. Oppressed by the heavy mountains, the Gaṇeśvaras were bewildered, unsure how to respond, like the unrighteous when praised. Then, the illustrious and mighty Asura named Tāraka appeared, shining forth with forms like many mountains. The Gaṇas, their heads broken and faces marked by shattered feet, resembled serpents restrained by spells. Assailed by Maya’s magical powers, the Gaṇeśvaras wandered about in confusion, making much noise like birds trapped in a cage. By the power of Tāraka, the entire army was burned up, as dry fuel is consumed by fire. At that moment, the Gaṇas were repelled by showers of arrows from Tāraka and struck by Maya’s illusions and Tāraka’s shafts, becoming distressed like trees with decayed roots. Again, fire rushed forth, consuming planets, crocodiles, serpents, great mountains, monkeys, tigers, trees, and creatures of fierce appearance, as the battle raged on.