Struck with great force, the lord of wealth—Dhanada—was momentarily thrown into confusion. Yet, regaining his courage, he seized his dreadful bow and prepared to retaliate. With a roar of determination, he unleashed a storm of thousands of razor-sharp arrows, filling all directions—the sky, the earth, the intermediate spaces—so that even the sun’s orb was obscured, and the demon’s armies were beset from every side. But Jambha, fierce in battle, met this onslaught with his own skill. With swift, precise shots, he cut down every arrow sent by the lord of wealth, matching his prowess arrow for arrow. Enraged by the demon king’s defiance, Dhanada’s fury only grew. He showered Jambha’s forces with a hail of varied arrows, scattering the demon’s armies. Witnessing this devastation caused by the lord of wealth, the demon Jambha seized a dreadful iron mace, splendidly adorned with gold. With a mighty swing, he crushed the yakshas—Dhanada’s attendants—by the thousands. As they fell, the yakshas, struck with terror, crowded around the chariot of their lord, their cries echoing across the battlefield. Moved by their suffering, Dhanada grasped a dreadful spear. With swift and deadly accuracy, he slew thousands of demons, turning the tide once more. Yet, as his demon adversaries diminished, Jambha’s wrath only intensified. He seized a battle-axe, sharp-edged and deadly, a weapon feared by all who opposed the demons. With a single, powerful blow, Jambha shattered the great chariot of the lord of wealth into hundreds of pieces, as easily as a rat shreds soft cloth. Undeterred, Dhanada leapt from the wreckage, seizing a terrifying mace—one renowned for destroying the arrogant in the fiercest of battles. This mace, honored for countless years and unassailable by any being, was adorned with divine flowers, its iron body smeared with fragrant sandalwood and decorated with golden ornaments. Enraged, the lord of wealth hurled this pure, heavy, unfailing mace at Jambha’s head. As the mace blazed toward him, radiant like a cluster of lightning, the demon unleashed a flurry of weapons—discs, skulls, spears, bhuśuṇḍīs, and pattiśas—wielded by arms adorned with golden bracelets, each weapon brandished with fierce courage. Yet all these weapons proved powerless. The formidable mace, undeterred, crashed into Jambha’s chest, blazing like a great meteor striking within a mountain cave. Struck with overwhelming force, Jambha fell upon the hub of his chariot, blood streaming from his body as he lost consciousness. Believing Jambha to be slain, Kujambha, another mighty demon, let out a terrifying roar, his anger fueled by the words of the lord of wealth. He created a net of arrows in all directions to ensnare Dhanada, but the lord of the Yakshas deftly cut through the net with sharp crescent-headed arrows. The powerful Dhanada then released a rain of arrows at Kujambha, but the demon, not to be outdone, shattered the attack with his own sharp shafts. Seeing his arrows rendered useless, the lord of wealth seized an irresistible spear, adorned with golden bells. With an arm shining with jeweled bracelets, he hurled it swiftly at Kujambha. The spear pierced Kujambha’s heart with cruel finality, as fate strikes down a weak man greedy for riches. Passing through his heart, the spear embedded itself in the earth, and after a moment, the dreadful demon wavered, his strength fading. Yet, clinging to life, Kujambha seized a long pike tipped with sharp stone and struck Dhanada in the chest. With words as cutting as his weapon, the wicked one wounded the noble heart of Dhanada, just as a scoundrel harms the worthy. Struck by the pike, Dhanesha collapsed onto the chariot floor, shattered and unconscious, like a banner torn down in defeat. Witnessing Dhanesha, the lord of men, in such a state, Nirriti—the sword-armed god, leader of the night-stalker army—advanced swiftly. He charged at Kujambha, whose valor was terrible to behold. The lord of the Rakshasas, seeing the formidable Kujambha, ordered his armies to attack, intent on slaying the king of the Rakshasas. The army, bristling with arrows and fearsome weapons, surged forward. The Rakshasa king, shining with the brilliance of his ornaments, leapt from his chariot, sword in hand—a blade gleaming like an unopened lotus against the sky. With mighty strokes and long arms, he cut down his enemies in every direction—sideways, behind, below, and above—severing heads throughout the field. His lips pressed tight in fury, brows knotted in a fierce scowl, and eyes bloodshot with wrath, the Rakshasa lord cut down the demons in battle. Seeing his own army nearly destroyed, Kujambha abandoned his assault on Dhanada and charged at the king of the Rakshasas. Meanwhile, Jambha regained consciousness. Rising, he seized the attendants of the lord of wealth, capturing them alive and binding them by the thousands with nooses. The demons seized all manner of embodied jewels, as well as divine vehicles and flying chariots by the thousands. Dhanesha, regaining his senses and witnessing this dire situation, exhaled a long, hot breath, his eyes burning with anger. Meditating upon the divine Garuda weapon, he fitted an arrow to his bow and released it into the heart of the demon army. First, clouds of smoke billowed forth from his bow, followed by countless blazing sparks of fire. The weapon then set the sky ablaze with flames on every side, growing into an unstoppable force of many forms, overwhelming the demons with its divine power.