Near the tranquil hermitage of the sages, the three-eyed Lord Shiva, accompanied by Ambika, gazed upon the scene, beholding the mighty and formidable valor that now blazed forth, O strong-armed one. At that moment, upon hearing the call to arms, the heroic leader of the divine hosts ascended his celestial chariot—a magnificent vehicle gifted to him by the Grandfather, Brahma himself. Brahma, the great creator, took up the reins as charioteer upon that splendid chariot. Auspiciousness gathered all around, just as it had for Rudra, the destroyer of the triple cities. Then, the mighty Bhānukaṃpa, brimming with strength, lifted a radiant conch, shining like the full moon, to his lips and sounded it with all his might. The sound of that conch, sharp and resonant like the snapping of musical strings, struck terror into the hearts of the gods; the fire of their fear was kindled within. In an instant, the four directions became crowded with eager spectators—Yakshas, Vidyadharas, serpent kings, and Siddhas—all assembling to witness the impending battle. Then Narayana himself, dark as a rain-laden cloud, strung his great Sharnga bow and unleashed a torrential shower of arrows upon the bull among the hosts. Witnessing Vishnu’s power as he loosed hundreds of arrows, Bhadra seized his own victorious bow and gathered up a thousand arrows. With divine might, Bhadra took up that dreadful bow, drawing it slowly and powerfully, as if he were the Lord drawing Mount Meru itself as a bow. As the bow bent, a tremendous sound echoed forth, shaking the very earth. Fierce and illustrious, the leader of the hosts selected a dreadful arrow, blazing like a venomous serpent. Drawing the arrow, his arm—joined with quiver and mouth—resembled a serpent emerging from its anthill. The arrow, poised in his hand, glimmered like a young serpent bitten by a great snake. With a dense and potent arrow, Bhadra, charged with Rudra’s own valor, pierced the imperishable Vishnu in the forehead, his anger blazing. Struck upon the forehead, Vishnu—already insulted—was roused to wrath against the lord of the hosts, as a bull might rage against a lion. With a face cruel in anger and an arrow that flashed like lightning, Vishnu struck the arm of the king of the hosts, making it quiver like a serpent. In response, Virabhadra, mighty and swift, released an arrow radiant as ten thousand suns, aiming it at Vishnu’s arm. The combat intensified—Vishnu struck Bhadra, and Bhadra struck Vishnu in return. Thus, O Brahmins, the two exchanged arrows, each attack met with another in a relentless duel. Their arrows flew with such force and speed that a tumultuous, hair-raising battle erupted. Witnessing this fierce clash, the celestial beings cried out in dismay—“Alas!”—their voices echoing across the sky. Then Bhadra, with an arrow blazing like the tongue of fire, struck Vishnu’s great chest with unerring aim. The arrow, falling with terrible speed, struck Vishnu with such force that he was overcome by pain and fell to the ground, bewildered. Yet, in but a moment, Hari regained his senses, rose up, and unleashed all his divine weapons against his foe. Vishnu, lord of the army of arrows, countered every missile with terrifying counter-arrows, repelling them all at once. Now, with eyes reddened by anger, Vishnu released a special arrow marked with his own name, aiming it at the lord of the hosts. But Bhadra, with his own excellent arrow called Bhadrāhvaya, countered it. Before it could reach its mark, the Blessed One shattered it into a hundred pieces mid-flight; then, with a single arrow, he severed the Sharnga bow, and with two more, clipped the wings of Garuda. All this happened in the blink of an eye, wondrous to behold. Then, by the power of yoga, Vishnu released from his own body fierce divine beings by the thousands, each bearing conch, discus, and mace. Yet, in a mere moment, Bhadra burned them all to ashes, just as Shankara had once destroyed the three cities. With fire blazing from his eye, the mighty-armed Bhadra incinerated them. Enraged all the more, Vishnu swiftly raised his discus, preparing to hurl it. But as he did, the lord of the hosts, smiling gently, rendered the terrible, peerless discus motionless and fixed in place with effortless ease. Though Vishnu strove to release it, he could not. Panting, he stood with one arm raised, the discus immovable in his grasp. He was exhausted, unmoving as a stone, his body inert—like a lifeless being or a bull deprived of its horns. Just as a lion bares its fangs, so did Vishnu stand, motionless and fierce. Seeing him thus, Indra and the other gods, stirred by the lord of the hosts, rushed forward, weapons in hand, as bulls might charge a lion. Enraged and battle-ready, the gods advanced. Yet Bhadra regarded them as insignificant, just as Hari regards wild beasts. Surrounded by chosen warriors, the hero—an embodiment of Rudra—stood fearless and unassailable, letting out a terrible, roaring laugh. Even Shatamukha, with his thunderbolt, sought to strike, his right hand gleaming as if adorned with that very weapon. Yet the arms of the others, though bloodied, seemed feeble; their efforts faltered as they advanced. Thus, by the power of that Lord, all the splendor of the immortals was thwarted—they could not stand before him in battle. Their limbs rigid and shaken by fear, the gods fled. Amidst the chaos and the brilliance of battle, overwhelmed by Bhadra’s valor, they took their stand, unable to prevail.