In the midst of the great cosmic battle, the foremost Daityas armed their ranks with mountain peaks, stones, excellent iron clubs, and shining discs, stirring their army into jubilant readiness. The entire Daitya force, intoxicated by the fervor of combat, stood before the gods like a wild mass of storm clouds, dark and formidable. Their wondrous host, numbering thousands, surged forth into battle, dense as wind, fire, mountains, clouds, and water, appearing mad with the desire to fight. O son of the Sun, having heard of the vast expanse of the Daitya army, now hear of the Vaiṣṇava army of the gods. The Ādityas, Vasus, Rudras, and mighty Aśvins gathered with their attendants and forces, organizing themselves for battle. At the forefront, Puruhūta—the lord of worlds, leader of all gods, and thousand-eyed Indra—mounted the divine elephant, leading the charge. In the center of the formation was Indra’s chariot, drawn by the finest swans among birds, its wheels and feet beautiful and adorned with golden thunderbolts. Behind him followed thousands of hosts of gods, Gandharvas, and Yakṣas, accompanied by radiant councilors and praised by the Brahmarṣis. Indra’s procession was accompanied by clouds, thundering with lightning and the roar of his mighty weapon, appearing as if mountains themselves had gathered and moved at will. Mounted upon Yama, the blessed Lord traversed the whole world; at sacrificial offerings, Brahmins sang his praises, standing at the forefront of the ritual. In heaven, as Indra advanced with his followers and divine drums resounded, hundreds of beautiful apsaras danced in celebration. Adorned with a serpent-banner, radiant like the sun, and joined to a thousand horses, Indra’s chariot moved with the speed of mind and wind. That excellent chariot shone brilliantly, concealed by Matali, and surrounded on all sides, like Mount Meru enveloped by the brilliance of the sun. Yama, raising his staff and wielding a mace bound with time, stood among the hosts of gods, terrifying the demons with his powerful roar. His form was watery, adorned with conch and pearl bracelets, joined with four oceans and licking serpents. Brandishing the nooses of time, with horses resembling the moon—swift as wind and shaped like water—Yama performed countless playful acts. Clad in shining white garments, with coral-bright bracelets, his body dark as a precious gem, the noble one bore the weight of the gods. Varuna, holding his noose, stood in the midst of the gods, desiring the boundary of battle, like the ocean with its shore broken. Kubera, lord of treasures, powerful and adorned with conch and lotus, was accompanied by armies of Yakshas, Rakshasas, and hosts of Guhyakas. The illustrious king of kings appeared, holding a mace in his hand; the lord of wealth, a chariot-warrior, stood in the celestial chariot Pushpaka. Eager for battle, he shone riding Naravahana; mounted upon the bull in conflict, he appeared as if Shiva himself. On the eastern flank stood Indra, the thousand-eyed; the southern was guarded by the king of ancestors; Varuna held the western side, and Naravahana the northern. Thus, in the four directions, the four mighty guardians of the world were stationed, each protecting their own quarter for the army of the gods. The sun, in his chariot drawn by seven horses, moving without limit, blazed with splendor and shone with radiant rays. His wheel, rising and setting, traversed Mount Meru and the gate of heaven, scorching the imperishable world. Endowed with a thousand rays and brilliant energy, the sun—lord of the day—moved among the worlds in his twelvefold form. Soma, radiant upon a white horse, shone in his chariot, bearing cool rays; his brilliance filled from the waters of the Himalayas, delighting the world. The lord of the twice-born, with gentle beams, followed the hosts of stars; his body marked by the shadow of the hare, bringing an end to the darkness of night. He is lord of the luminaries in the sky, giver of sap, master of countless plants, and repository of nectar. The Daityas beheld Soma, armed with frost, established in the first, gentle, and truth-filled portion of the world, riding his chariot. That vital breath of all beings, divided fivefold among men, entered the seven bodily elements and traversed the three worlds. He whom they call the maker of fire, the lord from whom all arises, who dwells in the seven notes and is always praised with words. He whom they call the supreme being, bodiless, moving through space, swift, and joined with sound—that is Vayu, the life of all beings, arisen by his own brilliance. Vayu blew, agitating the Daityas and stirring the clouds. The Maruts, along with celestial Gandharvas and hosts of Vidyadharas, sported with shining swords, like serpents freed from their skins. The lords of serpents, producing intense watery poison, moved in the heavens among the gods, their faces wide open. With mountains, rocky peaks, and hundreds of trees, the hosts of gods approached to strike the Daitya army. He is that god Hrishikesha, Padmanabha, Trivikrama—the lord of the world, whose path is dark at the end of the age. He is the source of all wombs, the slayer of Madhu, the eater of offerings, established in sacrifice; his essence is earth, water, sky, and all beings; dark-hued, bringer of peace, destroyer of enemies. The slayer of enemies among the immortals, bearing the discus and the mace, raised the sun, emerging among serpents, with supreme brilliance. Thus, the celestial hosts gathered in full splendor, prepared for the great battle, their divine powers shining forth against the Daityas.