The warriors of the Daityas, fierce and resolute, closed in around Prahlada, hurling spears, javelins, and lances at him from all sides. Yet, by the power of his unwavering remembrance of Hari, Prahlada’s body remained untouched, unharmed by their weapons. Through the grace of Vishnu, his form became as unassailable as adamant itself. The mightiest blows of the enemies of the gods struck his limbs, but their weapons simply fell to the ground, scattered like blue lotus petals. Not even the smallest part of Prahlada’s body could be injured by their assault. Astonished and rendered speechless by this wondrous sight, the assembled warriors stood before their king, Hiranyakashipu, marveling at the greatness of his son. Overcome by a mixture of amazement and burning anger, Hiranyakashipu then gave a new command: he summoned all the venomous serpents, led by Vasuki, and ordered them to devour Prahlada. Obeying their king’s wrathful command, the fierce serpents, their mouths blazing and forms terrifying, rushed upon Prahlada, the devoted servant of Garuda’s banner, and bit him with their venomous fangs. Yet their poison was rendered powerless, their fangs shattered, and they became mere wind-eaters. Their bodies, bearing the wounds of a thousand attacks from Vainateya, Garuda’s son, were wracked with distress. Blood flowing, the serpents scattered in all directions, fleeing in terror. Witnessing the defeat of the serpents, the lord of the Daityas, still enraged, called upon the mighty elephants of the quarters—huge, intoxicated beasts, proud and powerful. At his command, these elephants surrounded Prahlada and struck him fiercely with their massive tusks. But their tusks broke at the root and fell to the ground, leaving the elephants terrified and tuskless, fleeing from the scene. Seeing the failure of even these mighty elephants, Hiranyakashipu’s fury grew. He kindled a great fire and cast his own son into the flames. Yet Agni, the fire god, seeing Prahlada, beloved of the Lord who rests upon the waters, made the flames cool and harmless. Prahlada emerged unscathed, and the king’s astonishment deepened. Desperate, Hiranyakashipu offered his son dreadful poison, meant to destroy all living beings. But by Vishnu’s power, the poison transformed into nectar. Thus, no matter the deadly means he employed—fire, poison, beasts, or serpents—all became harmless before Prahlada, protected by the Lord. Having exhausted all terrible methods and seeing his son’s invulnerability, the king, now overwhelmed with wonder, addressed Prahlada gently. “You have spoken rightly of Vishnu’s supremacy before me,” Hiranyakashipu said. “Because he pervades all beings, he is called Vishnu. That god, all-pervading, is indeed the Supreme Lord. Show me directly his all-pervasiveness. His lordly powers, energies, brilliance, knowledge, strength, and might—these are the supreme form and divine glories of that transcendent one. Yet, having seen Vishnu myself, I believe that among the gods, there is none who can match my power. Granted a boon by Īśāna, I am invulnerable among all beings and unconquerable among all creatures. Vishnu could only gain lordship by defeating me in strength and valor.” Hearing this, Rudra narrates, Prahlada, steadfast in his vows and filled with amazement, began to speak of Hari’s glory and the humility of the unworthy. Prahlada said, “That illustrious Narayana, the supreme soul, eternal, dwelling in all beings, is called Vasudeva. He is the sustainer of the entire universe, known as Vishnu; there is nothing in this world, moving or unmoving, apart from him. All forms, sentient and insentient, are his alone. His threefold pervasion fills the supreme sky, and his single-footed pervasion is a wondrous portion. He who holds the discus and mace, who wears yellow garments—Janardana—is seen by yogis through devotion, never by those without devotion. Janardana cannot be seen out of anger or envy; yet, he pervades all—gods, animals, humans, and even immobile beings—abiding in all, from the smallest to the greatest.” Rudra continues: Hearing these words, the foremost of the Daityas, Hiranyakashipu, his eyes reddened with fury, rebuked his son again and again. “If this Vishnu is truly all-pervading and the supreme person,” he challenged, “then show me proof today. What use are many words?” Having spoken thus, the Daitya king suddenly struck a palace pillar with his hand and said to Prahlada, “Show me Vishnu here in this pillar, if he is truly all-pervading; otherwise, I will kill you, you who speak false words.” With these words, Hiranyakashipu swiftly drew his sword and hurled it at Prahlada’s chest in anger, intent on killing him. At that very moment, a great and terrible sound burst forth from the pillar, resounding fiercely like the splitting of the sky by the thunderbolts of doomsday. The force of that thunderous sound shattered the ears of the Daityas, who fell to the ground like uprooted trees. Terrified, they scattered in all directions, believing the three worlds to be destroyed. Then, from the pillar, the great and radiant Hari emerged, making a most dreadful sound, as if the world itself were ending. By the power of that roar, even the stars fell to the earth. There, Hari appeared in the wondrous form of Narasimha, his radiance outshining countless millions of suns and fires. His face resembled five lions, while his body was human in shape; his mouth was fierce, adorned with protruding fangs, and his tongue flickered, raised to the sky. His hair blazed with flames, his eyes shone like molten gold, and the Lord possessed a thousand long arms, each bearing every weapon. Thus did the Supreme Lord manifest, to protect his devotee and to reveal his immeasurable, all-pervading power.