The banners of the Daitya and Danava lords rose high and proud as their armies assembled for battle. Mahisha’s standard shimmered with the image of a golden jackal, while Shumbha’s banner soared, marked by the ominous form of a black iron vulture. Around them, the banners of other mighty warriors took on many shapes and colors, and the tumult of a hundred swift tigers, each adorned with garlands of gold, added to the dazzling spectacle. Grasaṇa’s chariot thundered forward, drawn by a hundred lions, their manes bristling and their harnesses jingling with bells. Jambha too rode a formidable chariot pulled by lions, fierce and proud. Kujambha’s chariot was yoked with donkeys whose faces were twisted with demonic features, while Mahisha’s own chariot was drawn by camels, and Kunjara’s by spirited horses. Mesha, ever fierce, rode behind leopards, their pelts dappled and their eyes blazing. The mighty Kalanemi’s chariot was drawn by elephants as vast and immovable as mountains, while Nimi rode atop great, intoxicated elephants, their trumpeting filling the air. These elephants were splendid—four-tusked, fragrant, expertly trained, and their roars resounded like thunder. Black horses, adorned with gold and each a hundred hands in length, joined the procession, their hooves pounding the earth. The southern quarter of the host gleamed with the white shimmer of yak-tail fans. The warriors’ bodies were anointed with white sandalwood paste and adorned with garlands of many-hued flowers, their radiance shining forth. Mathana, lord of the Daityas, stood out, holding a noose, his presence formidable. Jambhaka, mounted on a camel with jingling bells, advanced alongside him. Shumbha, the demon king, rode a great ram, black as the very force of time, while other heroic Danavas mounted a variety of wondrous beasts. All were fierce and awe-inspiring in their deeds, adorned with earrings and turbans, robed in garments of many kinds, and decked with garlands of every sort. They exuded rich fragrances, and their praises were sung by hosts of attendants. The air rang with the music of countless instruments as the foremost of their chariots rolled forth. In this mighty army, the heroes recounted tales of valor, and the force of the lion among Daityas took on a terrifying aspect. The ranks swelled with intoxicated, fierce elephants and horses, and chariots bearing many banners. Thus arrayed, the great host marched out to do battle with the gods. From the sky, Vayu, the divine messenger, beheld the vast Danava host. Swiftly, he sped to the assembly of Indra, the great-souled Mahendra, and reported in the midst of the gods all that had arisen. Hearing Vayu’s words, the king of the gods closed his eyes in thought and addressed Brihaspati, the wise and mighty-armed preceptor. “A great conflict now threatens to engulf gods and Danavas alike,” Indra declared. “What should we do? Tell me the path of policy that is best, full of proper means.” Brihaspati, noble in mind and speech, replied, “Victory is won by policy, which begins with conciliation and is fourfold in its means—conciliation, division, gifts, and punishment. These should be applied in order, according to the place, time, nature of the enemy, and circumstance. Yet, a greedy and cruel person who has found support cannot be pacified; the wicked, once resolved, cannot be subdued. Among the Daityas, conciliation is impossible—they are united, and cannot be divided by birth or duty. Gifts are useless for those already prosperous. Only one means remains—punishment—if you so desire. Conciliation with the wicked is fruitless; they see it as weakness, or excessive compassion. The wicked always believe conciliation springs from fear, so to subdue them, reliance on strength is best. For the virtuous, action in the face of attack is their vow, for the wicked never become virtuous. Even the good may sometimes wish to forsake their nature, but this is my counsel—now you must decide.” Thus advised, Indra, the thousand-eyed lord, agreed: “So be it.” After considering, he addressed the assembly of gods: “Listen, O dwellers of heaven, pure in soul and satisfied with sacrifice. You protect the world, yet the Daitya chiefs oppose you without cause. For them, conciliation and the like are useless—let only punishment be applied. Prepare for battle! Assemble my army. Let the weapons be honored and the deities of arms worshipped. Let our vehicles and chariots be made ready. Appoint Yama as commander, and act swiftly.” At Indra’s command, the gods prepared for war. A chariot yoked with ten thousand steeds, adorned with golden bells and wondrous in its qualities, was brought forth by all the gods for their king. Matali, Indra’s charioteer, prepared an unconquerable chariot, while Yama, mounting his great buffalo, took his place at the head of the army. He was surrounded by fierce attendants on all sides, his eyes blazing like the flames at the world’s end, filling the sky with his presence. Agni, the fire god, mounted a ram and held his spear aloft; Vayu, wielding an elephant goad, displayed his immense speed. Varuna, lord of the waters, rode a mighty serpent, while Kubera, the god of wealth, stood firm, his mace in hand and his roar like a lion’s. The lord of the Rakshasas moved through the sky in a chariot drawn by men. The Moon, the Sun, and the twin Ashvins, with their fourfold armies, stood with kings and golden-adorned Gandharvas, all assembled and ready for the great battle to come.