In the midst of a fierce and tumultuous battle, a deadly missile was launched with great force, but before it could reach its intended target, the mighty Nimi shattered it with his arrows, as effortlessly as a prayer is interrupted before its fulfillment. Undeterred, the adversary seized a terrible club, adorned with celestial jewels, and hurled it swiftly at Nimi, the formidable Dānava. As this club sped through the heavens, three powerful Daityas rose to intercept it: Jambha, wielding a mace, and Grasaṇa, brandishing a broad sword, stood in its path. Mahisha, another Daitya, eager for victory for his own kin, blocked the weapon with his spear, just as a wicked heart obstructs affection. Nimi, fierce and unyielding, grasped a dreadful spear whose tip was terrifying and whose shaft resounded with eight bells. With a mighty arm, he hurled it at Jambha, the fearsome warrior. But the elephant, offspring of the Dānavas, caught the spear as it hung suspended in the sky. Witnessing this feat, the wise saw in it a profound lesson. Then, taking up another strong and essential bow, Nimi readied a fierce missile and loosed an arrow upon it. The brilliance of this weapon was so intense that it enveloped the entire world—moving and unmoving alike—and the sky seemed filled with arrows. The earth, the directions, and even the spaces between directions were covered in a net of arrows. Such was the might of this weapon that the demon commander Grasaṇa was consumed by its power. Yet, in response, the Brahma missile was employed—a weapon known to nullify all others. Through its divine force, the world-devouring missile was subdued. But when that weapon was repelled, Vishnu, the slayer of the Dānavas, created the terrifying Kāladaṇḍa missile, dreadful to all the worlds. As this formidable weapon was being prepared, a harsh wind began to blow, the earth trembled, the goddess herself quaked, and the demons became confused and unsettled in their minds. Seeing this fearsome missile, the demons, reckless and desperate in battle, unleashed divine missiles of countless forms. Grasaṇa took up the Nārāyaṇa missile, Nimi seized the discus, and each released their most potent weapon. Jambha readied the Aishika missile to counter the Kāladaṇḍa. Yet, before twilight could fall and the demon lords could fully unleash their counter, in a single instant, the mighty one slew countless demon lords, along with their elephants and horses. Afterward, the Kāladaṇḍa missile was pacified by the combined force of the demon missiles. Seeing this, Hari—his form blazing with wrath and valor—took up his own divine weapon. He seized his discus, radiant as ten thousand suns and as fierce as his own incarnation, and hurled it at Grasaṇa, aiming for his neck, which was hard as thunder and terrible to behold. The foremost demons, witnessing the discus blazing in the sky, exerted all their strength but could not withstand its divine, irresistible power, just as fate renders all effort fruitless. That inconceivable, invincible discus struck Grasaṇa’s neck, splitting it in two; from the wound a terrible stream of blood poured forth, and the discus returned to Janārdana’s hand, shining like blazing fire. With Grasaṇa, the leader of the worlds, slain, the demons fought Hari with unrestrained fury. They attacked with spears, maces, nooses, clubs, corpses, sharp arrows, discs, and lances. But Janārdana, the wondrous warrior, countered their missiles, making each one multiply into hundreds with arrows that resembled tongues of fire. Soon, their weapons and strength exhausted, the demons became bewildered and powerless to continue fighting. In their desperation, the Daityas, in countless numbers, hurled the corpses of elephants and horses as weapons against Janārdana. Assuming many wondrous forms, Vishnu, for a brief moment, appeared with his arms subdued amidst the chaos of battle and spoke to Garuḍa: "Garuḍa, are you not yet weary in this fight? If you are still untired, then fly towards Mathana’s chariot. But if you are tired, withdraw from the battle for a moment." Thus spoke Vishnu, the mighty lord, to his devoted companion. In the thick of battle, Garuḍa approached the dreadful demon Mathana. Seeing Vishnu, radiant with conch, discus, and mace, Mathana faced him boldly. With a sharp arrow from a bhindipāla, Mathana struck Vishnu on the chest, but in that great conflict, Vishnu regarded the blow as nothing. In reply, Vishnu struck Mathana with five stone-tipped arrows, and then with ten more, each finding its mark in the demon’s chest. Though pierced in his vital spots by Hari’s arrows, Mathana did not falter. After a brief recovery, he seized his iron club and struck Janārdana with it, the blow causing Vishnu to be slightly shaken. Then Mādhava, his eyes wide and blazing with anger, seized his mace and, in his fury, crushed Mathana along with his chariot. The demon lord fell to the earth like a mountain at the end of its age. When this mighty demon fell, the Daityas lost heart, like elephants sinking in deep mud, and their arrogance was broken. Enraged and his eyes bloodshot, Mahisha, the lord of the Daityas—fierce and confident in his own strength—advanced against Hari. With a sharp-pointed spear, Mahisha wounded Hari, and with a lance, struck Garuḍa in the chest. Opening his mouth wide as a mountain cave, Mahisha sought to devour Garuḍa, the steadfast one, right there on the battlefield. But Acyuta, perceiving the demon’s intention, filled his mouth with divine weapons, his might immeasurable. Then, the Garuḍa-bannered Vishnu released a stream of arrows at Mahisha, sealing his mouth with divine missiles empowered by sacred mantras. Thus, the battle raged on, each act revealing the unfathomable might and wisdom of Hari, and the fate of the Daityas unfolded before the eyes of gods and men alike.