The Daityas, astonished by the profound words spoken, cried out in admiration, “Well said! Well said!” Then, the mighty Tāraka made his way to the finest cave nestled in the Pāriyātra mountain. This cave was a marvel: adorned with flowers of every season, glowing with the light of radiant herbs, and filled with streams rich in minerals. All around, there were countless caves and dwellings, hidden by dense thickets and sheltered beneath wondrous, wish-fulfilling trees. Birds of every kind flocked there, filling the air with their songs. The cave was blessed with many springs and reservoirs, each holding waters of different kinds. It was here that Tāraka began his great austerity. He fasted and practiced the fivefold austerity, subsisting only on leaves and water. For hundreds upon hundreds of years, he continued these rigorous ascetic practices. As his resolve deepened, he began to cut flesh from his own body, offering it into the sacred fire day after day, until he was entirely devoid of flesh. With his body now fleshless, Tāraka had amassed immense ascetic power. The radiance of his energy blazed forth, causing all beings everywhere to feel its heat. The gods were troubled and frightened by the intensity of his austerity, while Brahmā, the creator, was supremely satisfied. Desiring to grant Tāraka a boon, Brahmā descended from the abode of the gods. He found Tāraka in the cave of the mountain king and addressed him with gentle, sweet words: “Enough, child, with your austerity. Nothing is unattainable for you now. Choose a splendid boon, whatever dwells in your mind.” Thus addressed, Tāraka, the mighty Daitya, bowed to the self-born Lord Brahmā. With joined palms and humility, he spoke: “You know the hearts of the gods and the actions of all creatures. People, seeking reward or retaliation, strive for victory. By birth and duty, we Daityas have enmity with the immortals. The gods have destroyed us, forsaking righteousness. My resolve is to be the deliverer of my kin. Let me be invulnerable to all beings and to mighty weapons; this supreme boon is firmly fixed in my heart. Grant me this boon, O Lord of the gods; no other favor pleases me.” Brahmā replied, “Without death, embodied beings cannot exist, O best of demons. Therefore, choose another boon, except for death, since you do not fear it.” After reflecting, the lord of demons, deluded by pride, asked for death only after seven days from his birth as a child. Brahmā, granting him whatever boon he desired, departed to heaven, and Tāraka returned to his own abode. When Tāraka had completed his austerities, the lords of the demons gathered around him, just as the hosts of gods surround Indra in heaven. As Tāraka, the delight of the demons, held great sovereignty, even the seasons themselves appeared before him, each enhanced by their own qualities. All the guardians of the worlds became his attendants; beauty, splendor, fortitude, intelligence, and prosperity watched over the Dānava king. Surrounded by these virtues, flawless in every way, Tāraka’s body was anointed with fragrant aloe, his head adorned with a grand crown. His limbs were decorated with beautiful armlets, and he sat upon a magnificent lion-throne. The foremost Apsarases fanned him constantly, never ceasing in their service. The moon and sun served as lamps along his path, the wind as his fan, and Death himself led the way before him. As time passed and pride swelled within him from the many boons he had received, Tārakāsura addressed his demon ministers: “What is the purpose of my kingdom if I do not conquer the heavens? How can my heart find peace without vanquishing the gods and ending our enmity? Even now, the immortals enjoy their shares of sacrifice in heaven; Viṣṇu retains his fortune and remains free from delusion. The beloveds of the gods, the women of heaven, oppress them with their beauty, lotus in hand, intoxicated with wine, in their celestial sports and gardens. A man who, having obtained birth, does not strive for valor—his birth is in vain; the unborn is even superior to him. He who does not fulfill the desires of his parents, does not relieve the sorrows of his kin, nor attains fame as pure as the moon—such a man, though born, is as good as dead in my view.” He continued, “Therefore, quickly prepare for me the eight-wheeled chariot for victory over the foremost of the immortals, to seize the fortune of the three worlds; assemble my invincible demon army, my banner adorned with golden cloth, and my umbrella covered with a net of pearls.” Hearing Tāraka’s command, the demon named Grasana, commander of the demon king’s army, swiftly gathered the forces. Sounding a deep drum, he summoned the Daityas, bringing forth a chariot adorned with eight wheels, drawn by a thousand horses. Clad in white garments, the chariot stretched four yojanas wide and was filled with various pleasure-houses, enchanting with songs and music. Like the celestial chariot of Indra, lord of the gods, the Daityas—ten crores in number, fierce in valor—assembled. Foremost among them was Jambha; next was Kujambha, then Mahisha, Kunjara, Megha, Kalanemi, and Nimi. Mathana, Jambhaka, Shumbha—these ten Daitya lords led the host, and hundreds of others, capable of shaking the earth, joined them. These Daitya lords were mountain-like in stature, fierce in might, skilled in many weapons and missiles of various kinds. Tāraka’s banner was dreadful, adorned with gold; Grasana, the slayer of foes, was the army chief, his emblem a makara. Jambha’s banner bore a demonic face of iron, while Kujambha’s standard displayed a donkey with a swinging tail. Thus, mighty Tāraka, surrounded by his formidable army and adorned with splendor, prepared for his assault upon the heavens, intent on seizing the fortune of the three worlds and ending the enmity with the gods.