As the fierce battle raged on, Yama, the lord of death, saw his own army devastated and his strength nearly spent. Mounted upon his mighty buffalo and brandishing his fearsome staff, he approached the field of carnage. Grasana, the demon, seeing Yama draw near, hurled his mace with all his might, striking Yama squarely on the chest. Yet Yama, known as Antaka, destroyer of enemies, paid no heed to this blow. Angered, Yama raised his staff and struck at the heads of the tigers yoked to the demon’s chariot. The tigers, reeling from the blow, dragged the chariot aside, half out of control. The mind of Grasana became unsettled, like that of a confused man. Abandoning his chariot, the demon leapt to the ground and advanced on foot. With a roar, the demon seized Yama in his arms, and the two engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat, casting aside all weapons. Grasana, his fury aroused, grabbed Yama by the waist-cloth and spun him swiftly, tossing him about as easily as a mind is thrown into turmoil. But Yama, undaunted, grasped the demon by the neck with both arms, lifted him from the ground, and whirled him with tremendous force. The two exchanged merciless blows with their fists. Yet, because of the demon king’s immense size and strength, Yama’s arms began to tire. Yama, seeking respite, hoisted the demon onto his shoulder. Grasana, seeing Yama thus wearied, summoned his last reserves of strength and brought Yama to his end. He crushed the god of death again and again against the earth with his heel and his hands, until blood flowed copiously from Yama’s mouth. At last, seeing Yama lifeless, the demon released him and, exulting in victory, let out a terrible roar. He returned to his army, standing firm like a mountain. But soon he was confronted by Jambha, the lord of wealth, who attacked with arrows that found their mark in the demon’s vital points. Jambha’s wrath blocked out the directions, and his arrows cut down the demon’s army. Enraged, the lord of wealth pressed his attack upon Jambha, piercing his heart with a thousand blazing arrows, striking his charioteer with a hundred, and his banner with ten. He shot seventy-five arrows into Jambha’s hands and ten into his bow, each shaft feathered with peacock plumes, oiled, and perfectly straight. He struck Jambha’s lion mount with one arrow, and the demon himself with ten sharp shafts. Witnessing these extraordinary feats, Jambha steadied his heart, though fear crept in, and took up his own sharp arrows. Drawing his bow to his ear, Jambha, filled with rage, pierced the lord of wealth in the chest with his deadly arrows. He struck the charioteer in the heart with a firm shaft and, with a single, well-oiled arrow, cut the bowstring of the lord of wealth. Then, with harsh, piercing arrows, he struck the lord of wealth in the chest with ten more, committing a cruel act. The lord of wealth, struck so fiercely, fell into deep confusion. But in a moment, regaining his courage, he drew his dreadful bow and released thousands of sharp arrows. These filled the directions, the sky, the intermediate spaces, the earth, and rained upon the demon’s troops, obscuring even the sun. But Jambha, undaunted, cut each arrow down with many of his own, his aim swift and sure. The lord of wealth, enraged by the demon king’s prowess, scattered the armies of Jambha with showers of arrows. Seeing this, the demon seized a dreadful iron mace adorned with gold and crushed the yakshas—attendants of the lord of wealth—by the thousands. As they fell, the yakshas gathered around their lord’s chariot, their cries terrifying to hear. Witnessing his followers’ suffering, the lord of wealth seized a dreadful spear and swiftly slew thousands of demons. As the demon horde diminished, Jambha, overwhelmed by wrath, took up a sharp-edged battle-axe, the destroyer of those who hate demons. With that axe, he shredded the great chariot of the lord of wealth into hundreds of pieces, as easily as a rat shreds soft cloth. Now on foot, the lord of wealth seized a terrifying mace, one renowned for centuries, unassailable by any being, its iron body smeared with sandalwood and adorned with divine flowers and golden ornaments. Enraged, he hurled this pure, heavy, unfailing weapon at Jambha’s head. Seeing the mace approach, radiant as a cluster of lightning, the demon unleashed a shower of weapons—discs, skulls, spears, bhuśuṇḍīs, and pattiśas—each wielded by arms adorned with golden bracelets, each thrown with fierce courage. Yet all these weapons were rendered useless, and the mighty mace, flashing like a great meteor in a mountain cave, fell upon the demon’s chest. Struck hard, Jambha collapsed onto the hub of his chariot, blood streaming from his wounds as he lost consciousness. Believing Jambha slain, Kujambha, with a terrifying roar, was filled with rage at the words of the lord of wealth. He created a net of arrows in all directions against the lord of the Yakshas, but that net was swiftly cut apart by sharp crescent-headed arrows. Then the powerful lord of the Yakshas unleashed a rain of arrows upon Kujambha, but the demon, in turn, cut apart that mass of arrows with his own sharp shafts, and the battle raged on.