The battle raged on with unrelenting fury. The noose-bearer, showing no mercy, struck the Daitya—whose arms were tightly bound—with his heavy mace. The force of the blow was so immense that blood gushed from the Daitya’s wounds. Undeterred, the Daitya transformed himself into a vast, thunderous cloud, his form garlanded with streaks of lightning. Witnessing this terrible transformation, Mahiṣāsura—his mouth gaping wide and his fangs sharp and dreadful—sought to swallow both Nirṛti and Varuṇa, the two gods, into a bottomless abyss. Sensing the Daitya’s wicked intent, Nirṛti and Varuṇa, terrified by Mahiṣāsura’s ferocity, abandoned their chariot path and fled in panic. Overcome by fear, they hastened away in different directions. Nirṛti, in his distress, quickly sought refuge with Indra, the lord of the gods. But Mahiṣa, burning with rage, charged after Varuṇa, who appeared then as if caught in the grip of Death, shining brilliantly like a snowy mountain. At that moment, Soma, the moon god, intervened. He released a weapon of biting cold, bristling with icy spikes, and conjured a second weapon, a mighty wind charged with chilling power. The combined force of the wind, the moon’s influence, and the searing cold afflicted all the Dānavas. Cut down by the chill, their valor was shattered. Their bodies numbed; they could neither move their feet nor lift their weapons, struck down by the moon’s great power and the relentless cold. Everywhere, the bodies of the demon armies burned with the freezing agony. Yet, the buffalo demon, exhausted, sat unmoving, his face calm and unshaken by the cold. The Daityas, powerless to resist, leaned on their sides, heads downcast, utterly overcome by the moon’s influence. Abandoning all desire for battle, they retreated to a distance, seeking only to survive. At this, Kalanemi, his anger blazing, addressed the Daityas: "Ho! Ho! You horned ones, masters of weapons and missiles—each one of you alone could balance the world with your arms. Each of you is capable of devouring the entire world, both moving and unmoving; even all the gods together would not suffice to conquer a single one among you. With your immense prowess, each could fill a sixteenth part of the moon—why do you retreat? Stand firm in battle, unconquered by the immortals! This is not fitting for heroes, especially those born as Daityas. Our king, Tāraka, the destroyer of worlds, is hidden among us. If you withdraw from this fight, he will, in anger, take your lives. Numbed by the cold, you have lost your hearing and your eloquence!" But the Daityas, their teeth chattering, were struck mute in the fight. Seeing them thus—minds lost and bodies overwhelmed by cold—Kalanemi realized decisive action was needed. Relying on his demonic illusion, the great Asura expanded his own form to immense proportions, filling the sky, the directions, and the intermediate quarters. His body radiated with the brilliance of ten thousand suns. Fierce fires conjured by his illusion blazed forth, engulfing all three worlds in flames. By this mass of flames, the moon lost its coolness, and gradually, the harsh cold day was dispelled. Such was the power of the Dānava lords, the illusion of Kalanemi. Witnessing this, the sun, regaining his senses and filled with anger, spoke to Aruṇa, his charioteer, the single eye of the world: "O Aruṇa, quickly drive the chariot, for Kalanemi’s chariot is there. A fierce clash will erupt, and heroes will fall. The moon, whose power we relied upon, has been conquered." Thus urged, Aruṇa, Garuḍa’s elder brother, drove the chariot forward. With his horses held firmly and adorned with white chowries, the blessed lamp of the world—the sun—took up his stretched bow. He selected two splendid arrows, radiant as divine serpent venom. Employing the Saṃcāra weapon, he fitted one arrow to his bow and released it. The second arrow, infused with illusion by Indrajāla, he shot as well. With the Saṃcāra weapon, he caused a momentary reversal of forms. Suddenly, gods appeared as demons, and demons appeared as gods. In the confusion, the Daityas, mistaking the gods for their own, struck them with dreadful, swift weapons. Kālanemi, seized by wrath like Death at the end of time, slew some with his sharp sword, some with showers of arrows, others with fierce maces, and yet others with terrible axes. With fierce speed, he cut off the heads of some, severed arms, chariots, and charioteers; some he crushed beneath the force of his chariot, others he struck in rage with violent blows of his fist. Seeing his own people slain in battle, Nemi, the lord of the demons, and the asuras, realizing they were overwhelmed by the gods, resumed their true forms. But Kālanemi, possessed by anger, did not recognize them. Then, the demon Nemi spoke to Kālanemi: "I am Nemi, not a god, Kālanemi; know me. Many mighty ones have been slain by you in battle, deceived by illusion. Here are a hundred thousand demons, unconquerable by the gods; unleash the Brahma weapon swiftly, to counter all their weapons." Thus instructed, Kālanemi, his mind agitated and confused, fitted an arrow empowered by the Brahma weapon. The lord of the demons, himself a thorn to the gods, released it; and by the power of that weapon, the three worlds, with all their beings, moving and unmoving, were enveloped. The entire army of the gods was seized with fear. The Saṃcāra weapon was subdued, and in the battle, the Brahma weapon shone forth. When that weapon was repelled, the sun lost his brilliance. Relying upon the illusion of Mahendra, the sun manifested countless forms of himself. With the thunderous impact of his hands, he overwhelmed the three worlds and scorched the demon host, whose blood flowed in torrents.