The devotee, ever intent upon the welfare of all beings and purified in heart, attained the supreme state. Out of compassion, he sprinkled the assembled ones with water sanctified by tulasi leaves, offering them protection. This sacred act cleansed them of their demonic nature, and they became radiant, shining with a luster akin to the gods themselves. The foremost among them glowed with a brilliance like millions of suns combined. Filled with gratitude, they praised the Brahmin with fitting words and then departed for the heavenly realms. Witnessing those who had attained liberation, the Brahmin fell into deep contemplation. He spoke profound words, uttering the great saying that is the very root of righteousness: “O King, even for you, when your destined time comes, great good fortune will arise. Those devoted to the worship of the guru, without doubt, reach that supreme abode of Vishnu.” With his mind at peace, he recalled the teachings of his guru and recounted all that had transpired to the Brahmin. Reciting the sacred names of Vishnu, he journeyed immediately to Varanasi. Through the generous act of the Brahmin’s wife, Mitrasaha was released from bondage. Consecrated, O best of sages, he ruled over his own kingdom. Having received offspring from Vashishtha, the noble king ultimately attained liberation. Indeed, anyone who praises, listens to, remembers, or partakes of the Ganga becomes liberated. Even Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—the greatest of gods—seek to cross over the ocean of existence. Freed from all bonds, one ascends to the abode of Brahma without doubt. In that very moment, cleansed of sin, one is honored in the world of Brahma. At this point, a request was made: “Tell me of its origin, brother, if I am worthy of your favor. Speak of that which, when heard, brings merit and destroys all sin.” Thus, the tale continued: Daksha’s daughters, Diti and Aditi, became his wives. Their sons, O Brahmin, were rivals, each striving for victory over the other. The first of the Daityas, born of Diti, was the mighty Hiranyakashipu. His son was Virocana, who was devoted to the Brahmins. This very leader became the commander of the Daitya armies, O sage. Having conquered the entire earth, he set his sights on claiming heaven. His army was unmatched, with five hundred elephants in each division—indeed, there is no need to describe the vastness of his infantry. Among his descendants, Bāṇa, the eldest of Bali’s hundred sons, equaled his father in valor and strength. When their banners and pennants were unfurled, the sky itself seemed a mass of storm clouds alive with lightning. The gods too, bearing thunderbolts and other weapons, assembled for battle, just as they had before. The thunder of drums echoed like the clouds at the end of an age. The gods and the Daitya armies clashed in a battle of unimaginable ferocity, and the uproar of their war cries filled the air. The rumble of chariots and the sharp twang of arrows added to the immense noise, while the clanging of bows and the crash of weapons caused the world to resound with tumult. So great was the din and confusion that all who witnessed it believed the untimely dissolution of the world had come. The night sky, veiled by clouds, shone with the flicker of weapons like moving lightning. The swift gods, wielding iron arrows, shattered their foes, scattering them in all directions.