Vidyunmālī, swift as a thundercloud wreathed in lightning, surged toward Nandīśvara with a roar that echoed like thunder. His booming voice, the demon’s words rolling like storm clouds, challenged the mountain-like Nandīśvara in the midst of battle. “I, Vidyunmālī, have come desiring combat, strong as I am. If you escape with your life now, Nandikeśvara, know that words alone will not defeat Vidyunmālī in battle.” Nandīśa, foremost among the blazing ones and skilled in the ornaments of speech, replied to Vidyunmālī’s challenge: “Strike, then, here!” He continued, “O demon, this is not the hour for those who seek righteousness. If you are able to kill, why hesitate because of your birth’s fault? Whether I had slain you before, like a beast, or do so now, why should I not destroy the defiler of sacrifice? Even one who could cross the ocean with his arms or bring down the sun would not be able to gaze upon me with his eyes.” As Nandī spoke these words, Vidyunmālī struck him with a single arrow, piercing him as the sun pierces a cloud. The arrow drank the best blood from Nandī’s chest, just as the sun draws up the water of rivers and oceans by its radiance. Reeling from the powerful blow, Nandī staggered, then uprooted a tree with his hand and hurled it like a lordly elephant. The tree, battered by the wind and scattering its flowers, roared loudly, but Vidyunmālī’s arrows cut it down and it fell like the king of birds. Seeing his tree felled by the demon’s excellent arrows, Nandīśvara’s wrath flared intensely. Raising his hand, shining with the brilliance of the sun and Indra, he charged forth to slay the cruel buffalo, like a lord of elephants. As he rushed forward with great speed and force, Vidyunmālī filled Nandī with hundreds of arrows. Pierced by these arrows, Śailādi became like a mountain once more; seizing the great chariot, he departed swiftly. His horse delayed, his head spinning, and his chariot whirling in battle, he fell by the sage’s curse, just as the sun’s chariot falls. Then, the son of Diti emerged by his illusion and struck Śailādi, who stood firm, with a spear. Śailādi, extracting the blood-stained spear, hurled it at Vidyunmālī, the leader of the Pramathas. Pierced by the spear, his armor shattered and his heart split, Vidyunmālī fell to the earth like a mountain struck by thunder. With Vidyunmālī slain, the Siddhas, Charanas, and Kinnaras exclaimed, “Excellent, excellent!” and worshipped Umāpati. As Nandi defeated the demon and Vidyunmālī was slain, Maya burned the host of Pramathas like a raging forest fire. Their chests were torn by spears, heads crushed by maces, and bodies deeply pierced by arrows; they fell into the ocean of Pramathas. Maya swiftly pierced Shataksha, the serpent king, with a mighty arrow, and wounded Yama and the lord of wealth, roaring like a maddened cloud. Then, struck firmly by arrows from the Pramatha hosts, the powerful demons, greatly wounded, were driven into Tripura, just as Shiva entered with his discus in battle. Conch shells, drums, and cymbals resounded with lion-roars, announcing the defeat of the sons of Danu. In Kapardi’s army, they fell everywhere in battle, shining like thunderbolts. When the city of the demons was destroyed, an auspicious conjunction occurred, and by that conjunction, the three cities became united. Then Hara, the three-eyed lord of the three paths, released a threefold arrow composed of the three deities, swiftly at Tripura. That arrow shone like a garland of arrows; the sky became golden, tinged by the sun. As the arrow made of the three deities was released at Tripura, the gods cried out, “Alas, alas!” and exclaimed, “How terrible!” Seeing the gods bewildered, Śailādi, like an elephant, approached and asked Maheśvara, the wielder of the trident, “What is this?” The moon-crested, matted-haired one, deeply moved, spoke to Nandi: “That Maya, though devoted, will perish today.” Thereupon, Nandi, swift and powerful as the wind of the mind, went toward Tripura and entered the city. Seeing Maya, the golden-hued leader of the hosts said, “Terrible destruction has come upon this Tripura, O Maya. Leave this house at once, I tell you.” Hearing Nandi’s words, that steadfast devotee of Maheshvara departed from Tripura by the main gate. Then, like a leaf in a flame, he burned the three cities; and as if split in three, the fire, the moon, and Narayana did likewise. The cities, filled with the brilliance of the arrow, were consumed, just as lineages are destroyed above due to the fault of a wicked son. They were like Meru and Kailasa, resembling the peaks of Mandara, adorned with doors and windows, splendid with offerings. With beautiful palaces, towering mansions, rain-filled reservoirs, and renowned halls fit for viewing, they were magnificent. The houses in Tripura, adorned with banners and flags of gold and silver belonging to the Danavas, were burned by fire in thousands, blazing like fire itself. In the lovely palaces, in the forests and groves, and in the upper chambers and open spaces, others too were present.