Having truly and diligently beheld the supreme Viṣṇu, the mighty Daitya king Hiraṇyakaśipu was filled with pride, certain that among all the gods, none could rival his power. With great confidence, he declared that, having received a boon from Īśāna, he had become invulnerable to all beings and unconquerable by any creature. He boasted that even Viṣṇu could only attain lordship by first overcoming him in strength and valor. Hearing these haughty words, Rudra recounted how Prahlāda, amazed yet steadfast in his vows, spoke gently of Hari’s glory and the humility of those who fail to recognize the Supreme. Prahlāda proclaimed, “That illustrious Nārāyaṇa, the eternal Supreme Soul who dwells within all beings, is known as Vāsudeva. He is the sustainer of the entire universe and is called Viṣṇu; nothing in this world, whether moving or unmoving, exists apart from him. Everywhere, the form of all things, sentient and insentient, is but his own; his threefold pervasion fills the supreme sky, and his single-footed presence is a wondrous mystery. “He who wields the discus and mace, who is adorned in yellow garments—Janārdana—is seen by yogis only through devotion; without devotion, he cannot be seen. Neither anger nor envy can reveal Janārdana, yet he pervades all—gods, animals, humans, and even immobile beings, abiding in all from the smallest to the greatest.” Rudra continued: Hearing these words, the Daitya king’s eyes grew red with anger, and he rebuked his son again and again. Hiraṇyakaśipu challenged, “If this Viṣṇu is truly all-pervading and the supreme person, then show me proof today! What use are many words?” With that, the Daitya suddenly struck a pillar in his palace with his hand and said to Prahlāda, “Show me Viṣṇu here in this pillar, if he is truly all-pervading—or else, I will kill you, you who speak falsehood.” Having thus spoken, the lord of the Daityas swiftly drew his sword and hurled it at Prahlāda’s chest, intent on killing him in his rage. In that very moment, a tremendous sound erupted from the pillar, resounding fiercely like the splitting of the sky by the thunderbolts of doomsday. The force of that sound shattered the Daityas’ ears, and all who heard it fell to the ground like uprooted trees. Terrified, the Daityas scattered, believing the three worlds were being destroyed. From the pillar, the great, radiant Hari emerged. He made a most terrible sound, as if heralding the destruction of the world, and by his roar, the stars themselves fell to the earth. There, Hari appeared in the wondrous form of Narasimha—the Man-Lion—his radiance blazing like countless millions of suns and fires. His face resembled that of five lions, his body was human in shape, yet his mouth was fearsome with protruding fangs and a tongue flickering and raised to the sky. His hair blazed with flames, his eyes shone like molten gold, and he possessed a thousand long arms, each bearing every kind of weapon. He stood, shining like Mount Meru surrounded by branching trees, adorned with divine garlands, celestial garments, and heavenly ornaments. In this terrifying form of the lion-man, he had come to destroy all the demons. Seeing this mighty Narasimha, the Daitya king’s eyelashes were singed by the heat, his limbs trembled, and he fell down. Prahlāda, witnessing Hari in the form of Narasimha, cried out in victory and bowed to Janārdana, Lord of the gods. In the vast body of the great-souled Narasimha, Prahlāda beheld wondrous visions: worlds, oceans, continents, gods, gandharvas, humans, and a thousand cosmic eggs could be seen at the tip of his mane. In his eyes shone the moon, the sun, and other luminaries; in his ears, the twin Ashvins, and the very directions and intermediate directions. On his forehead were Brahmā and Rudra, in his nostrils the sky and the wind; in his mouth, Indra and Agni, and on his tongue, Sarasvatī herself. His fangs held lions, tigers, sharabhas, and great serpents; on his throat was Mount Meru, and on his shoulders, mighty mountains. Gods, animals, and humans were seen in his arms; in his navel, the atmosphere; and at his feet, the earth itself. All herbs grew from his body hair, trees from his rows of nails, and in his breath resided the Vedas, complete with all their limbs and sub-divisions. The Adityas, Vasus, Rudras, all the gods, and the hosts of Maruts were present on his limbs; gandharvas and apsaras adorned him as well. Thus, the Supreme Self manifested in countless forms; his chest was adorned with the auspicious Srivatsa mark, the Kaustubha gem, and a garland of forest flowers. He bore the conch, discus, mace, sword, the Sharnga bow, and other weapons. Seeing the very essence of all the Upanishads embodied before him, Prahlāda, son of the Daitya lord, was filled with tears of joy and bowed again and again. But the Daitya king, overcome by wrath and the presence of death, raised his sword and charged at Narasimha. The mighty hosts of demons, regaining their senses, also advanced, seizing their weapons and attacking Hari, as countless stalks of straw are flung into a blazing fire. Yet, all their weapons were instantly reduced to ashes upon touching Hari’s body. Witnessing the destruction of the demon armies, Narasimha unleashed blazing streams of flame from his mane, scorching the demons and burning them intensely. All the hosts were utterly reduced to ashes, their strength annihilated—yet Prahlāda and his followers remained unharmed, as Narasimha beheld the demon forces destroyed. In his fury, the demon king seized his sword and rushed forward, but Narasimha, with a single arm, caught the sword-wielding Daitya lord, bringing the terror of his reign to an end.