The radiance of Gauri filled all the directions, so brilliant that none could withstand its intensity. Her own fierce energy blazed forth, impossible for anyone to endure. In that moment, it became clear that the wicked Mahishasura must be slain by some means. The plan was to draw him in with words sent by a messenger—words gentle in tone, yet striking at the heart, revealing the truth. For those who act unrighteously, even hearing words of dharma can awaken a sense of righteousness within; if their minds turn toward dharma, peace will surely arise. And for those devoted to austerity, letting go of anger always brings good results. With this understanding, Gauri addressed the sage who was the guru of the gods, calling him by name. “Go, O great sage with the face of a monkey, endowed with the power of Maya. Do not, O misguided one, oppress the lord of the Aruna mountain. Here, there is neither the suffering of the Kali age nor oppression even from the Asuras. By the merit of your good deeds from previous lives, you have gained great strength and prosperity. Shiva himself granted you riches, moved by the power of your austerities. This place is always the abode of those devoted to righteousness and the worshippers of Shiva. You have attained incomparable sovereignty and a power that is difficult for anyone to overcome. “The maiden has again been seen by me, and she is considered especially powerless. Or else, by various arguments or by scriptures approved by Shiva, you—proud of your own strength—have troubled all the worlds. Now, bring forth your entire army, fully armed, and place it at the front. When your life, along with your army, is cut down by my weapon, know that even when restrained by former deeds, a person is still driven on by karma. You too must indeed speak many words of compassion.” Thus instructed by Gauri, the sage with the monkey face spoke as she had directed. Yet, having heard everything, he was overcome by a surge of anger. Summoning his entire army, the wicked-minded one gathered his forces, which swelled like the four oceans at the end of an age. Gauri beheld the wondrous army of the Daityas. They were a fearsome sight—creatures with one foot, one eye, one leg, and with ears and breasts hanging low. She declared, “I consume all this, which is still insufficient for me. But what more is there for you to do here? You should simply stand by and watch.” As these words were spoken, the conch was sounded by the hosts of Yoginīs. Seeing Gauri advancing in such a terrifying form, the Daitya soldiers were struck with fear. The Daityas unleashed showers of weapons in every direction. Their army was vast, with hundreds of millions of chariots, lordly elephants, and horses. The Mothers, in various forms, the Ḍākinīs, and the hosts of Yoginīs joined the Goddess. The great Asuras faced the army created by the Goddess, an army impossible to defeat. The Goddess herself was seen, armed and blazing, surrounded by the slain Asuras. When she descended from the summit of Kailāsa to perform austerities on earth, there were beings such as Dundubhi, known as Satyavatī, and also Antavatī, the supreme one. Caṇḍā and Muṇḍā were created by the Goddess herself, terrifying in form, with fangs and bracelets made of teeth. Thus, the divine battle unfolded, the Goddess at its center, radiant and unstoppable.