As the fierce confrontation unfolded, the hosts of Yoginīs sounded their conch, echoing across the battlefield. The Daitya forces, beholding the Goddess in her terrifying and formidable form as she advanced, were struck with awe and dread. In a desperate bid to resist, the Daityas unleashed torrents of weapons, hurling them in every direction. The clash was immense: hundreds of millions of chariots thundered forward, lordly elephants charged, and horses stampeded, filling the field with chaos. Alongside these forces, the Mothers of various forms, the Ḍākinīs, and the assembled Yoginīs surged into battle, forming an army conjured by the Goddess herself—an army so mighty it seemed impossible to defeat. The great Asuras confronted this divine host, yet the Goddess was seen, armed and blazing, standing amidst a field of fallen Asuras. Earlier, when the Goddess had descended from the summit of Kailāsa to perform austerities on earth, she was accompanied by Dundubhi, known as Satyavatī, and also Antavatī, the supreme one. From her own power, she created Caṇḍā and Muṇḍā, beings with terrifying fangs and bracelets made of teeth, to aid her in battle. In the thick of conflict, the Goddess seized a certain Asura and began to dance, her movements both beautiful and fearsome. Witnessing this, the arrogant enemy was consumed with the fire of anger. His long, flaming tongue licked the peaks of the tallest mountains, and with a dreadful, deep roar, he bewildered the gods, his staff spinning in a blur of power. For the sake of destroying death itself, Bhavānī, radiant with the strength of three mighty armies and standing upon a lion, advanced into the fray. The enraged Asura filled the sky with a monstrous shower of mountains. The Goddess, undaunted, countered with a great shower of arrows, pushing back his attack from afar. Though battered by these divine missiles, the lord of the Daityas, steadfast as a mountain’s core, endured the onslaught. He was struck by swords, discs, spears, and lances, yet he held his ground. Suddenly, a fearsome being in the form of a roaring lion appeared and struck the Daitya with a powerful slap of its paw. In response, the demon took the form of a massive tiger, its wide mouth gaping, its tawny body marked with long, dark blue stripes. Like a beast seeking escape, he surged forward, but the Goddess, swift and unwavering, struck him with a shining arrow. The arrow embedded itself in his face, and his blood flowed freely. Undeterred, the demon transformed again, now into a colossal elephant, and charged at the Goddess. As he advanced, the earth was drenched with the fluid of his rage and power. At that moment, a heroic sword-bearer, shield in hand, emerged to confront him. The Goddess herself, her hands gleaming with sword and discus, stood forth, ready for battle. Yet again, by the power of demonic illusion, the Asura assumed the shape of a buffalo. As the fierce struggle continued, the gods and great sages urged Gautama, the wise sage, to speak. Gautama addressed the Goddess with reverence: "Within you resides the supreme vital power of the entire universe. Why do you engage in this battle today, which only causes delusion? For you withdraw the bodies of those who have been slain. Otherwise, in destroying this enemy, who is as insignificant as a blade of grass, by restraining your own power and drawing forth the strength of the foe, you act wisely." Thus, in ancient times, the Goddess was counseled by Gautama. Heeding these words, she manifested a form of her own, vast and formidable, resembling many mountains. Under her crushing might, the demon was hurled down, rolling about, crying out in agony, and seized—he writhed violently, overwhelmed by her divine power.