Having found peace within his heart, he recalled the wise teachings of his guru. With a mind calmed by remembrance, he approached the brahmin and faithfully recounted all that had transpired before. Then, invoking the sacred names of Vishnu, he journeyed straight to Varanasi. By the generous act of the brahmin’s wife, Mitrasaha was released from his bondage. Consecrated and purified, O best of sages, he assumed rightful rule over his own kingdom. Blessed with offspring by the sage Vashishtha, this noble king ultimately attained liberation. Indeed, anyone who praises, listens to, remembers, or even drinks the sacred Ganga becomes liberated. Even the greatest of gods—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—seek to cross the ocean of worldly existence. Freed thus, a person attains the supreme abode of Brahma, without doubt. In that very moment, released from sin, he is honored in the world of Brahma. At this point, a humble request arose: “Brother, if I am worthy of your favor, tell me its origin. Speak of that which, when heard, brings merit and destroys sin.” Thus, the tale was told: Daksha’s daughters, his wives, were Diti and Aditi. Their sons, O brahmin, became rivals, each seeking victory over the other. The first among the Daityas, born of Diti, was the mighty Hiranyakashipu. His son was Virocana, renowned for his devotion to the brahmins. This Virocana became the commander of the Daitya armies, O sage. Having conquered the entire earth, he set his sights on winning heaven itself. His army was vast and formidable: each division boasted five hundred elephants—what need is there to describe the rest of his infantry? It was the finest of all. Among Bali’s hundred sons, Bāṇa, the eldest, matched his father in valor and might. With banners and pennants unfurled, the sky seemed transformed into a mass of clouds flashing with lightning. The gods, armed with thunderbolts and other weapons, assembled for battle as they had before. The thunderous beating of drums echoed like the clouds at the end of an age. The gods and the Daitya armies clashed in a battle of terrifying ferocity. From both sides arose a tremendous uproar as warriors shouted their war cries. The rumbling of chariots, the sharp twang of arrows, the clanging of bows, and the crash of weapons filled the world with tumult. Witnessing this, all creation thought that the untimely dissolution of the world had arrived. The night, shrouded in clouds, was illuminated by flashes like moving lightning. The swift gods shattered their enemies with iron arrows. Some warriors struck horses with horses, while others fought fiercely with maces and staffs. Those who had tasted the nectar of immortality took shelter in their aerial chariots. Assuming divine forms, the gods charged upon the Daityas. Fierce in combat, the gods slew the Daityas with a multitude of weapons, all desiring Indra’s sovereignty and the defeat of their foes. Fire-barriers, knives, spears, wheels, and spikes were wielded alongside javelins, stones, hundred-slayers, nooses, and palm-sized arms. The battlefield became crowded with chariots, horses, elephants, and foot soldiers. Thus, eight thousand warriors engaged in a most terrible war. Overwhelmed, all abandoned the realm of the gods and fled in fear. Vairochani, ever devoted to Narayana, then ruled over the three worlds.