As the great battle unfolded, the fate of the worlds hung in the balance. On one side loomed decline and destruction, on the other, the preservation of the universe itself. All beings—whether moving or unmoving—were drawn into two opposing camps: gods and demons, each representing the forces of order and chaos. Yet, even this profound duality seemed to dissolve into unity, as if those witnessing the conflict saw not division, but a single, all-encompassing reality. Everything that existed in the three worlds, all that is the very essence of being, was present there—manifested as the sum of every power. Weapons, energies, treasures, courage, the strength of armies, valor, prowess, and every vital force belonged to both gods and demons alike, each empowered by the merit of their austerities. Then Tāraka, the mighty lord of the Daityas, advanced. The gods struck him in the heart with nine arrows, their tips blazing like fire, each shaft bent at the joints. Unshaken, Tāraka drew forth those very arrows that had pierced him and, with perfect aim, returned them—striking each god in the heart with nine arrows of his own. The gods, undaunted, unleashed a ceaseless shower of arrows, led by darts born of the world's sustaining power. But Tāraka, with swift skill, destroyed those arrows in the sky before they could reach him, as effortlessly as beloveds' tears fall without end. The arrows, meant to destroy, were themselves undone—just as a wayward son, through his misdeeds, can bring ruin to his noble lineage. Blocking the gods' volleys, Tāraka filled the sky, the directions, and even the earth with his own arrows. His shafts, sharp-pointed and feathered with vulture and peacock plumes, cut down the gods' arrows at their bases and in their places, swiftly and precisely. He drew his bow to his ear, releasing pure arrows shining with gold and silver, each striking with the clarity of truth resolved after doubt. In his fury, the demon struck Śakra with a hundred arrows, Nārāyaṇa with seventy, and Agni with ninety. He hit Māruta and Yama each with ten arrows to the head, Kubera with seventy, and Varuṇa with eight. Nirṛti was struck with twenty arrows, then eight more, and again each of the gods received ten arrows apiece. Mātali was struck by three swift arrows, and Garuḍa by ten feathered shafts. Tāraka's arrows, bent at the joints, shattered the gods' armor and cut their bows, leaving the gods vulnerable and exposed, their defenses stripped away. Yet the guardians of the worlds would not yield. In anger, they seized new bows on the battlefield, surrounded the demon lord, and wounded him with inexhaustible arrows. Tāraka's eyes, now red with rage, blazed as he rained arrows like fire upon the immortals. Then, grasping an arrow that shone like the final fire of dissolution, he struck mighty Indra in the chest, causing Mahendra to tremble upon his chariot seat. Seeing the thousand-sunned orb shining in the sky, Tāraka targeted Vishnu, whose power surged forth, and struck him with two arrows at the base of the shoulder. The arrow of Keśava fell before the Śārṅga bow. Remembering the humble nature of Vasu, Tāraka pierced him on the left with arrows. With shafts like fire, he dried up the body of Jaleśa in battle. His fire-like arrows struck swiftly, sending the terrified rākṣasas fleeing in all directions. With harsh, twisted arrows, the lord of asuras playfully stirred up a mighty wind. Then, Hari bent his bow and struck the demon king’s charioteer in the heart with sharp arrows. Dhūmaketu destroyed Tāraka’s banner, Mahendra shattered his crown, Dhanesha broke his gold-adorned bow, Yama struck his arm, Vayu targeted the chariot’s parts, and even the armor of the lord of night-walkers was attacked. Witnessing the gods’ genuine valor, Tāraka fought back fiercely, joined by his own arms and kin. He hurled a mighty mace at Indra, the thousand-eyed one. Seeing the unstoppable mace hurtling through the sky, Indra leapt from his chariot to the ground just as the mace crashed onto the chariot’s seat with a harsh sound, crushing it—though Mātali, the charioteer, survived. The demon seized a spear and struck Keśava (Vishnu) in the chest, causing him to collapse, unconscious, onto Garuda’s shoulder. With a sword, Tāraka destroyed the vehicle of the king of rākṣasas. He struck Yama to the ground with a club and hit Agni on the head with a sling. He lifted Vayu with his arms and hurled him to the earth, then, in anger, struck Dhanesha with the tip of his bow. In the heat of battle, the demon king—of boundless valor—slaughtered the hosts of gods with countless weapons. Regaining consciousness, Vishnu seized his difficult-to-hold discus, now stained with the demon king’s blood and turned toward the flesh-eaters. Keśava hurled it powerfully at Tāraka’s chest; the discus, radiant as the sun, struck the demon’s heart. Yet, it shattered upon his body like a blue lotus dashed against stone. Undeterred, Mahendra (Indra) released his long-cherished thunderbolt, placing his hope of victory upon this final weapon. The thunderbolt struck Tāraka, but his body withstood the blow. The thunderbolt shattered, its flames scattered, breaking into a hundred pieces, destroyed upon the demon’s chest by the force of Vayu. The blazing, fire-like goad, like a thunderbolt, was also destroyed. Witnessing the destruction of these mighty weapons, Vayu was filled with anger. He uprooted a mountain, its caves filled with blossoming trees, and hurled it at Tāraka—the mountain spanning five yojanas in breadth. As it hurtled toward him, Tāraka, smiling, caught it in his left hand as easily as a child might play with a ball. Then Death himself, overcome with wrath, raised his staff and, spinning it with great force, hurled it at the demon king’s head. The staff struck Tāraka, yet the demon was unfazed, shining with the radiance of the fire that ends an age—unconquerable, blazing forth, untouched by even the might of Death.