In the course of the great battle, a mighty weapon was shattered into hundreds of pieces and struck again and again by a rain of arrows. Śambhu’s arrows, swift and unyielding, blocked the oncoming assault, just as a swarm of bees envelops a lotus, leaving no opening. The foremost warriors, seeking refuge near Sthāṇu, were laid low by divine beings, their valor no match for the celestial power gathered there. Maheśa himself unleashed a relentless volley, and the enemy saw his own body pierced by countless arrows. Yet, the adversary was skilled in mystical arts, and conjured a thick, dark illusion, cloaking the battlefield in impenetrable gloom. Śambhu, bearing the burden of fear and heartbreak, wandered the earth, his spirit heavy, searching for his foe. Again and again, he cried, “Where is that wicked one gone? He is not seen.” In the midst of this turmoil, a sacred ford manifested itself, becoming renowned as Vāgandhaka. On the ninth day of the bright fortnight of Mārgaśīrṣa, it is said that whatever is offered with faith and devotion to Śiva, and dedicated to the ancestors, bears great fruit. But as darkness covered the gods, they were seized by great disturbance and confusion. At that moment, Vyāsa, radiant as the sun among men, dispelled the darkness by his own brilliance. When the veil was lifted and the demons were exposed in the light, the gods, filled with gratitude, praised Vyāsa—the sun in human form—with many hymns. Thus, O sage, the lords bestowed upon that place the name Naradīpa. It is declared that one who beholds the Naradīpa is freed from all sins, even those as grave as the slaying of a Brahmin. At the junctions of the day, during solstices, eclipses, or equinoxes, if a man beholds the Naradīpa, accompanied by hymns and auspicious songs, with singing and instrumental music leading the way, and bows with eightfold prostration, he is liberated from all sins—even those accumulated over seven births. Such a soul swiftly attains the world of the Sun, a realm difficult even for the gods to reach. By the grace of a single man, this Naradīpa thus arose. “I shall come there, O Pārtha, together with the gods, with full intent,” declares the Lord. “There, I am to be known as having descended into the world, by the coming of the god himself. When the god is thus seen mounted, and the Naradīpa shines brilliantly, whoever beholds it with devotion, as it stands upon the chariot, is greatly blessed.” Now, O sage, listen to the description of the chariot procession of the Naradīpa. On the bright second day of Jyeṣṭha, the Sun is indeed mounted on the chariot. Whoever sees the lord of the day proceeding northwards, and, turning back from Keśava and Arka, beholds the chariot, gains merit. Whoever draws the chariot with a rope, O sage, and when the Naradīpa moves southward, O best of the twice-born, one should bind the field, the chariot, or even the deity with a sacred thread. Those who, with devotion, perform circumambulation of the Sun, and he who rises in the morning and silently, with devotion, goes to the Sun, entering from the south to worship the wheel of the chariot, are blessed. Standing at the western gate, one should worship the Sun enthroned on the chariot. At the eastern gate stands the cow, and at the southern gate, the horse. Whoever undertakes the journey of the Sun’s chariot in this way attains the auspicious heavenly world, where dwell the cow, the Sun, Shiva, and Indra.