Seeing his rain of arrows rendered useless, the lord of wealth, Dhanada, seized an irresistible spear adorned with golden bells. His arm, radiant with jeweled bracelets, drew back and hurled the weapon swiftly at Kujambha. The spear flew true, cruelly piercing Kujambha’s heart—just as fate strikes down a weak man driven by greed. Tearing through the demon’s chest, the spear embedded itself in the earth, and for a moment, the dreadful demon wavered, unsteady. Yet Kujambha, undaunted, grabbed a long pike tipped with sharp stone and struck Dhanada squarely in the chest amid the tumult of battle. With words as cutting as his weapon, the wicked Kujambha wounded the noble Dhanada’s heart, as a villain harms the worthy. Reeling from the pike’s blow, Dhanesha lost consciousness, collapsing shattered upon the floor of his chariot, like a banner torn down in defeat. Witnessing the lord of wealth in such a state, Nirriti—the sword-armed god—advanced, accompanied by his night-stalker army. He rushed at Kujambha, whose valor was terrifying, and, beholding the formidable demon, the lord of the Rakshasas ordered his armies to attack, determined to slay the Rakshasa king. The army, bristling with arrows and fearsome weapons, prepared for battle. Leaping from his chariot, his ornaments shining, Nirriti wielded his sword, gleaming like an unopened lotus against the sky. With mighty arms, he struck down the faces of his enemies in every direction—sideways, behind, below, and above—severing them on all sides. His lips pressed tight in fury, brows knotted in a fierce scowl, and eyes bloodshot with wrath, he cut down the demons in the heat of battle. But as his own army neared destruction, Kujambha left Dhanada and charged at the king of the Rakshasas. Meanwhile, regaining consciousness, Jambha seized the attendants of the lord of wealth, capturing them alive and binding them by the thousands with nooses. The demons plundered embodied jewels of every kind, as well as divine vehicles and flying chariots in great numbers. Dhanesha, regaining his senses and seeing this dire situation, exhaled a long, hot breath, his eyes reddened with anger. He meditated upon the divine Garuda weapon, fitted an arrow to his bow, and let fly an enemy-shattering missile into the demon host. From his bow first emerged clouds of smoke, then countless blazing sparks of fire. The weapon set the sky ablaze with flames in every direction, growing into an unstoppable force of many forms. The world became formless, enveloped in darkness, until, in the sky, the radiance of the divine shone forth, purified. Kujambha, exceedingly powerful, perceived this and rushed forward on foot at Dhanada, roaring. Seeing the demon approach directly, the lord of wealth was seized by panic and turned to flee. As he fled, his crown, adorned with jewels, tumbled to the ground, shining like the sun’s disk falling from the sky. When their noble lord withdrew, the valiant, high-born warriors resolved it was fitting to die at the front lines, before his fallen ornament. Thus determined, the formidable Yakshas, eager for battle and armed with various weapons and missiles, surrounded the crown. Proud and wealthy heroes, attendants of the lord of wealth, stood firm. Seeing them, the fierce and mighty demon was filled with wrath. He seized a Bhushundi weapon, terrifying in form and heavy as a mountain, and crushed the night-wandering guardians of the crown. Scattering them, the demon claimed the crown for his own chariot. Conquering the lord of wealth in battle, the foe of the gods triumphed. Taking all treasures, jewels, embodied riches, and living beings, the demon Jambha, lion among the Daitya kings, departed with his army. The lord of wealth, his hair disheveled, went dejected to the lord of the gods. Then, joined by Kujambha, the son of the night-wanderer, the Rakshasa king relied on his unfailing, dark magic and engaged in battle. He bewildered the lord of the Daityas, shrouding the world in darkness; the eyes of the Daityas and their forces became useless. Unable to move even a single step, the Daitya army was struck down by a rain of various weapons. Their mounts, afflicted by dense, fog-like darkness, faltered. As the Daityas were slain, Kujambha’s mind grew bewildered. At that moment, the Daitya king Mahisha—dark as the clouds at the end of an age—created a Savitra missile, ablaze with a mass of meteors. As the blazing Savitra missile expanded, the intense, dreadful darkness was utterly destroyed. A missile marked with sparks dispelled all gloom, like a clear autumn lake filled with blooming red lotuses. With the darkness gone, the Daitya lords regained their sight. Fiercely intent, they performed a wondrous act together with their armies against the gods. Out of anger, they unleashed their weapons and, employing the serpent-missile, took up bows and arrows as dreadful as venomous snakes. Kujambha then charged at the army of the Rakshasa king, which had been deployed for battle; seeing him advancing with his followers, the lord of the Rakshasas prepared to meet him.