Pierced in his vital points by the sharp arrows of Hari, the lord of the demons did not falter. After a brief moment to recover, he seized his massive iron club and, with a roar, struck Janārdana. The impact of the blazing club made Viṣṇu himself tremble slightly. But Mādhava, eyes wide with wrath, seized his own mighty mace. In a surge of fury, he crushed Mathana and his chariot, reducing them to ruin. As the demon lord fell to the earth, he crashed down like a mountain at the end of its time. Witnessing the fall of their mighty leader, the Daityas lost all courage, their spirits sinking as if caught in deep mud. In this moment of defeat, Mahisha, lord of the Daityas, was seized by rage. His eyes bloodshot, fierce and trusting in his own strength, he advanced menacingly against Hari. With a spear, Mahisha wounded Hari, and with a lance, he struck Garuḍa in the chest. Then, opening his mouth wide like a gaping mountain cave, the demon sought to devour Garuḍa, the steadfast mount of Viṣṇu, right there on the battlefield. But Acyuta, perceiving his intent, filled Mahisha’s mouth with divine weapons, drawing on his immense power. Then, Viṣṇu, whose banner bears Garuḍa, released a stream of arrows, their power sealed by sacred mantras, sealing the demon’s mouth. Struck by these divine missiles, the buffalo demon—massive as a mountain—rolled and fell to the ground, yet death did not claim him. Seeing Mahisha fallen, Keśava spoke with compassion: “O Mahishasura, you are intoxicated; you are not destined to die by weapons here. The lotus-born one has already declared that you can only be slain by a woman. Rise, preserve your life, and quickly leave this battle.” As the buffalo demon turned away, Shumbha the asura, his lips bitten in anger and his brow furrowed, was filled with wrath. Crushing his own hand with his palm, he seized his dreadful bow, strung it, and readied arrows as venomous as serpents. With expert skill, he unleashed a blazing torrent upon Viṣṇu and Garuḍa, arrows like tongues of fire, unerring in their aim. Though struck by Shumbha’s arrows, Viṣṇu took up a club fearsome as death itself and struck Shumbha’s shield, which was as massive as a mountain. Leaping away from his slain ram and shattered shield, the asura lord took his stand on the ground. Hari, from the earth, sent forth volleys of arrows shining like the fire of destruction. With three arrows, Viṣṇu pierced Shumbha’s arm; with six, his head; with ten, his banner; and, drawing his bow, he struck the asura’s ear, his eyes wide with pain. Wounded and tormented, streams of blood flowing, the lord of asuras wavered. Then the conch, lotus, and bow-bearing one addressed him: “You are destined to be slain by the maiden; abandon the battle, O Shumbha. In a few days, you do not deserve death from me here, fool. Why do you seek battle in vain?” Hearing these words from Viṣṇu, Nimi, another asura, rushed to attack. Raising his fierce mace, he struck Garuḍa hard on the head. Shumbha, too, struck Viṣṇu on the head with his gem-studded mace. By the force of those mighty blows, both Viṣṇu and Garuḍa fell to the earth like blazing clouds. Seeing this, all the sons of Diti roared in triumph, making lion-cries that shook the battlefield. They struck their bows with force, shattering the earth beneath them; some shook their garments, while others blew conches, trumpets, and horns in wild celebration. But soon, Garuḍa regained his senses. With Keśava, he swiftly withdrew from the battle and fled with great speed. Seeing Hari in flight, his banner and bow lost, the thousand-eyed Indra believed Viṣṇu defeated in the terrible battle. Observing the delighted asuras, Indra was uncertain what to do. Then, the lord of the gods, wielder of the thunderbolt, approached Viṣṇu. He spoke to him gently, offering words of encouragement and strength: “Why do you play with these asuras of wicked minds, O god? How can one, whose weaknesses are known to the wicked, act? When the strong overlook the lowly, the inferior imagines himself powerful. Therefore, the wise should not abandon the lowly who lack protection; for those at the forefront, like charioteers, gain victory. Who was your companion at the forefront when you slew Hiraṇyākṣa, O Lord? Or when you faced Hiraṇyakaśipu, that mighty and arrogant demon? Upon encountering you, those demons met adversity and confusion. Even the greatest of the past, haters of the gods, perished like moths in fire. In every age, O Hari, you alone are the destroyer of the demons. In the same way, O Viṣṇu, be the refuge for the gods who are now submerged in distress.” Thus addressed, Viṣṇu, mighty-armed, regained his strength. Endowed with supreme prosperity, destroyer of enemies, and refuge of all beings, Adhokṣaja then spoke to Indra, patient and steadfast: “Demon kings can be slain only by their destined means of destruction. The demon Tāra is unconquerable except for seven days as an infant. Some are destined to die at the hands of a woman; for others, a maiden is the means of death. Jambha, the fierce demon, too, is now fated to die. Therefore, with divine strength, slay Jambha, the scourge of the world, for he is invulnerable to all except you, O Dānava. Protected by me in battle, uproot Jambha, the thorn of the world.” Hearing these words from Vaikuṇṭha, Indra, the enemy of immortals, commanded all the gods to arrange the army, gathering whatever valor and austerity existed in all the worlds.