At the command of Shiva and Parvati, whose deeds are wondrous, Bhadra was summoned. Shiva said, “By my order, O Bhadra, turn the fortune of this sacrifice into misfortune. Dear one, slay the sacrificer together with Bhadra.” Receiving this grave command from the divine couple, Bhadra bowed his head in reverence and prepared to depart, ready to fulfill their will. At that moment, Vīrabhadra—the great, blessed Lord, fierce and radiant, the remover of the goddess’s wrath—appeared, his presence blazing with divine anger. From every pore of his skin, he summoned forth the formidable Gaṇas known as the Romajas. From his right arm alone, he created a hundred crore fierce Gaṇas, each terrifying in aspect. More beings sprang forth from every part of his body—his feet, thighs, back, sides, face, throat, secret parts, ankles, crown, neck, mouth, and belly—until the entire world, with all its spaces and openings, was filled with these noble Gaṇeśvaras, each equal in valor to Bhadra. These mighty beings each possessed a thousand arms, and in every hand, a thousand weapons gleamed. All were followers of Rudra, shining with his very radiance. They carried tridents, spears, maces, axes, skulls, and stones. Like Kālāgni Rudra himself, they were three-eyed, with matted hair, fierce and awe-inspiring. Hundreds among them mounted lions, descending swiftly through the sky, roaring like thunderclouds—these were the sons of Bhadra. Surrounded by this host, the blessed Lord shone as if joined by hundreds of fires of destruction, resembling Kālabhairava at the end of time. Amidst them, Bhadra himself, radiant as ashes, mounted the mighty bull and advanced, shining like the creator among the clouds. He bore a pearl-white parasol and held a pure white chowrie, his splendor unmatched. By his side shone the ash-hued Lord, like the lord of mountains beside the teacher of the universe. Both Bhadra and the trident-bearing Lord gleamed, each with the white chowrie in hand, gentle as the young moon. At the head of this procession, the radiant Bhānu, adorned with gold and jewels, sounded a pure, auspicious conch, its blast making the earth tremble. Divine drums resounded, filling the heavens with celestial echoes, while hundreds of clouds showered blossoms upon their heads. Gentle winds, fragrant with blooming, honey-filled flowers, blew along their path, favoring their journey. All the Gaṇeśvaras, intoxicated and proud of their battle strength, advanced boldly. Bhadra stood among his hosts, shining with them, just as Tryambaka stands among the Rudra hosts with Ambikā. In that very moment, the mighty-armed Vīrabhadra, accompanied by his great followers, entered Dakṣa’s sacrificial enclosure, which had now become a battlefield. The noble Rudra, chief of the hosts, strode into the sacrificial ground established by Daksha, with the intent to destroy the world at its end. There, Vīrabhadra beheld the great sacrifice of the gods, led by Vishnu and those of immeasurable might, all adorned with splendid banners. The ground was covered with pure darbha grass and seasonal offerings; the sacred fire was brightly kindled, and brilliant golden vessels adorned the site. Sages skilled in sacrifice attended, performing rites as prescribed by the Vedas. The place was filled with thousands of divine maidens and attended by hosts of apsarases. The air resounded with the melodies of flutes and vīṇās, and the chants of the Vedas rose in the air. Seeing Daksha’s sacrifice, the mighty Vīrabhadra let out a roar as deep as a thundercloud. At once, a tumultuous noise arose, filling the sky, made by the lords of the hosts—a sound so great it even drowned out the ocean. Struck by this mighty sound, all the gods dwelling in heaven were seized with terror, fleeing in all directions, their garments and ornaments falling away in their haste. In alarm, the gods cried out, “Has mighty Meru been shattered? Is the earth splitting apart? What is this, what is this?” Just as the roar of a lion terrifies elephants in the deep forest, some, hearing that sound, abandoned their lives out of sheer fear. The very mountains were shattered, the earth trembled, violent winds whirled, and the ocean’s abode was agitated. The fires would not burn, the sun did not shine, the planets gave no light, nor did the stars and constellations. In that fearsome moment, the blessed Vīrabhadra, together with his followers and the blessed lady, arrived at the blazing sacrificial enclosure. Daksha saw them and, though terrified, stood firm and spoke with feigned anger, “Who are you? What do you seek here?” Hearing these words, Vīrabhadra, his voice deep as thunderclouds, gazed at Daksha as if with a smile. In the presence of the gods and priests, he spoke clearly and meaningfully: “We are all attendants of Śarva, of boundless power, come here desiring a share; let our portion now be given.” He continued, “But if, in this sacrifice, no share has been allotted to us, let the reason be stated, or let me fight here with the immortals.” Thus addressed, the gods, led by Daksha, replied, “Mantras are our authority; we ourselves have no power.” Then the mantras themselves spoke, “O gods, your minds are clouded by delusion, for you do not worship Maheshvara, who deserves the first portion.” Thus, the stage was set for the divine reckoning, as the power of Rudra’s hosts confronted the pride of the gods at Daksha’s sacrifice.