The fierce battle between the goddess and the demon raged on. The lion, ever at her side, struck the demon with a mighty slap of its paw. But the demon, undeterred, transformed himself into a tiger—a great and terrible being with a wide-gaping mouth. His tawny body was streaked with long, dark blue stripes, and though he was powerful, he seemed like a desperate beast seeking rescue, being released before the goddess. As the tiger advanced, the goddess met him with a shining arrow, which struck his face and lodged there, blood pouring forth. Still relentless, the demon shifted his form once more, becoming a gigantic elephant. He charged swiftly at the goddess, and as he thundered forward, the earth was soaked by the streaming rut from his body. Suddenly, a heroic figure appeared—a sword-bearer, shield in hand. The goddess herself stood forth, her hands radiant, holding sword and discus. Yet again, by the power of his illusion, the demon assumed the form of a mighty buffalo. At this moment, as the gods and great sages looked on, the sage Gautama was moved to speak. He addressed the goddess with reverence, saying, “Within you is held the supreme vital power of all the universe. Why, O Mother, do you engage in this battle, which seems only to cause delusion? You are the one who withdraws the bodies of the slain. Otherwise, in destroying this enemy—who is as insignificant as a blade of grass—you restrain your own power and draw forth the strength of the foe. Thus, in ancient times, the goddess was instructed in this way.” Then, the goddess manifested a new form of her own, vast and majestic, resembling many mountains. The demon, now crushed and seized, rolled about and cried out, writhing violently in her grasp. Her trident pierced his limbs, causing torrents of blood to gush forth. With a sharp sword, the goddess finally severed his head. The victory was complete. Durgā was praised by the Siddhas, Gandharvas, and great sages, while the lord of the gods, with joined palms, bowed and extolled her glory. “O Ambikā,” they sang, “you are devotion, faith, and power for all who worship you. You alone, of universal form, are known by many names and distinctions. Having subdued and destroyed the enemy, you, O auspicious one, are to be known and revealed. Even when this head is severed, it seems as if still alive. May your form, standing here after subduing the foe, always remain with us. With trident, bell, goad, shield, skull, thunderbolt, and other weapons, you alone, O Mother, filled with these, destroy all our enemies. All those enemies defeated by you, though bearing various weapons, are deprived of strength in a moment when bereft of your favor.” They continued, “He who attains lordship over the three worlds shines, adorned with fame. For those victorious in battle by your grace, there is no fear at all from enemies. Such a one is always worshipped by the gods and their attendants for the fulfillment of all desires. Along with his retinue, he is to be honored everywhere, at all times. He is always worshipped by your devotees, before you, in devotion.” The granting goddess, pleased by their words, replied, “So be it,” and departed towards heaven. She established the guardianship of that place, together with the Mothers, undertaking its protection. There, she beheld the distorted head of Mahisha, severed by her sword, a testament to her power and the end of the demon’s tyranny.