A terrible and tumultuous battle erupted, the air thick with the clash of axes, stones, tridents, thunderbolts, and heavy clubs. The gods and Asuras, bound by deep-seated enmity and bent on each other’s destruction, surged into combat with a ferocity that echoed like the roar of oceans at the world’s end. As they rushed together, striking and clashing, their tumult shook the heavens. The lords of the divine hosts and the foremost Asuras, their bodies streaming with wounds and blood, fought on, flushed with wrath and roaring in countless ways. The tumult they raised was mighty, and soon the streets of the city became slick with blood, scattered with broken bricks of gold and splintered crystals. In moments, fierce warriors lay lifeless, their heads, feet, and hands severed and strewn about, clearing the way for others to pass. Amid this chaos, Tāraka, his eyes blazing red with rage, concealed himself among trees and mountains near the battlefield. With wondrous might, he took his stand to defend the city’s main gate, which had been blocked. This being of immense strength and courage, proud of his mastery over his senses, drove away the spirits who had come to the ramparts. Emerging from the city, he let out a roar so terrible it shook friend and foe alike. Tāraka, towering like a great mountain and enraged as an elephant in rut, charged forward seeking to seize Rudra’s chariot. Yet, just as the ocean is held back at its shore, he was restrained from his aim. Shesha, Sudhanvan, the god Girisha, the four-faced Brahma, and the three-eyed lord Shiva all approached Tāraka, but in the heat of battle, they too were shaken, like oceans churned by a mighty wind. Assailed at their joints by powerful blows, Shesha, Girisha, and Brahma stood upon their chariot in the sky, their distress marked by dreadful sounds. Bhava—Shiva himself—stood with bow and arrow raised, one foot placed on the back of the horse of the Rigveda, the other on his sacred bull, surveying the mass of the city. The pressure of Bhava’s foot upon the horse and the bull was so immense that their teats and teeth fell out, pressed by the trident-bearing lord. From that time onward, the teats and teeth of horses and cows became dull, and so they are seen even now. Tāraka, his eyes terrifying and pupils blood-red, was tightly restrained by Nandin, the joy of his lineage, in the presence of Rudra. Then Nandin, wielding a sharp axe, struck down the lord of the Dānavas, felling him as a woodcutter fells a sandalwood tree. Wounded by the axe, the heroic Tāraka, like a wild beast struck by a mountain, fled after drawing his sword against the lord of the Gaṇas. In his flight, Tāraka seized his sacred thread and cut it, letting out a thunderous roar. At that moment, a dreadful lion’s roar and a terrifying blast of conches arose, sounded by the lords of the Gaṇas as Tāraka was slain. Hearing the black Pramathas and the sound of musical instruments, Maya, who was standing nearby, turned to Vidyunmālī of the mighty side and asked, “What is this sound, like the roar of many-mouthed beings, as if the ocean were split? Tell me, Vidyunmālī—have the elephant-lord Gaṇapālas gone to battle?” Thus addressed, Vidyunmālī, radiant as the sun with its rays, came to the battlefield, delighted, and spoke to the gods who subdued their foes: “O steadfast one, Tāraka, the repository of your fame and the power of Yama, Varuṇa, Mahendra, and Rudra—the very mountain peak of all battlefields—now perishes in battle with the lords of the Gaṇas.” When the Pramathas heard that Tāraka was crushed, their eyes and bodies brimmed with joy. They roared like rainclouds, their eyes blazing like the sun and fire. Hearing his friend’s words, Maya—adorned with a golden garland—spoke to Vidyunmālī, whose form was dark as a collyrium mountain and whose diadem was crested with the new moon: “O Vidyunmālī, now is not the time for us to act carelessly. With valor, I will make this city free from calamity.” Enraged, Vidyunmālī and Maya, lord of Tripura, together with the great Asuras, struck down the foremost Gaṇas. Yet wherever Vidyunmālī and Maya went, the Pramathas emptied the cities with their blows. Amid the din of Yama’s and Varuṇa’s drums, the resounding of paṇavas and ḍiṇḍimas, and the clapping of hands with lion-like roars, the gods worshipped Bhava and stood ready. Honored by the mighty Daityas, radiant with the power of a thousand suns, and praised by the truth-abiding, ascetic sages, Bhava shone like the sun approaching the mountain at sunset. After Tāraka was slain and the Pramathas driven away, Maya, filled with fear, addressed the Dānavas again and again: “O lords of the Asuras, listen to what I say—what must be done by me and by you, O mighty ones. When the star Puṣya arrives in due time and the moon, whose face is like the moon, comes, then for a single moment all three cities will become one. “Act without fear at the appointed time, as signaled by the call of the cuckoo. That time, joined with the Pushya constellation and the city, has been determined by me. Whoever, at that time in the city, attempts to gather a group together—let him be reduced to powder by a single powerful arrow from a god. Whatever is your life, your strength, and your enmity with the gods—hold all this in your hearts and protect this city. “With all your might, turn aside the single, fearsome chariot of Maheshvara, so that he cannot release his arrow. When we have done this to defend Tripura, the gods, powerless, will have to wait for the Pushya conjunction.” Hearing Maya’s words, the Daityas dwelling in Tripura roared like lions again and again and addressed Maya, who was as skillful as Maya himself: “With effort, we will do as you have said. We will act so that Rudra cannot release his arrow in the city. Today we will go to battle, eager to slay Rudra!” So spoke the sons of Diti, delighted, their hair standing on end. “Either Tripura will remain established in the sky for an age, eternal and unshakable, or the threefold path of Narayana will come to pass, and there will be no more Dānavas. We will not abandon dharma, in which you will engage us. Men will not see a world without gods or without Daityas.” Thus, the battle raged on, the fate of the three cities and the worlds hanging in the balance, as gods and Asuras prepared for the decisive moment foretold by Maya.