Overwhelmed by the dazzling beauty and irresistible radiance of desire, the king found himself released from a curse so formidable that few could cross it. Filled with wonder, he pondered the source of this extraordinary power. Turning to his beloved, whose face shone like the full moon, he questioned her intently, seeking answers. With joy in her heart, she recounted the entire tale. “O king,” she explained, “it is by the power of this liṅga that you are freed from the curse.” United in happiness, the king and his beloved ascended to heaven, where they were praised by the hosts of gods. The king proclaimed, “O goddess, this liṅga is renowned throughout the world as the bestower of all desired fruits. None who honor it will fall into animal births, nor will separation occur. There will be no attainment of hell, nor suffering, nor old age, nor fear. In every age, those who worship will be endowed with beauty and good fortune. Even the ancestors in their lineage, those who dwell in hell or have entered the animal realm, and those who have been born as beasts, will be uplifted.” Simply by seeing him, the animal birth is not perceived, and the cycle is broken. Once, during a great kalpa, there lived a king who embodied Dharma. His radiance was so brilliant that Soma, Surya, and other celestial beings were rendered devoid of their own brilliance. This king possessed the ability to assume any form at will and was undefeated in battle. His chief queen was more precious to him than his own life. Among a thousand kings, he remained unreleased, his mind filled with wonder at the eminent sage Vashishtha. The king asked, “O Lord, by what Dharma did I obtain my unsurpassed fortune?” Vashishtha replied, “Long ago, you were a king born of the Shudra caste. For many years, you lived with an evil heart. You always stole the property of Brahmins and constantly reviled the Vedas. When your time ended, you attained hell in due course. In Raurava, Kumbhipaka, and Maharaurava, in the crucible, and torn upon the sword-leaf, Yama assigned you the form of a crab, O ruler of the earth. Yet, whatever was given, recited, performed, or offered, and all acts of worship to the gods, your future merit was preserved by that karma. One day, you slowly went to the riverbank to play. Hurled along the path of the sky, you were struck forcefully by another creature. Released from the bird’s beak by an agitated wind, you were swiftly cast down by Shiva, afflicted by the bird’s beak and its violent shaking. Abandoning that worn-out body, as did that crab long ago, by the greatness of the liṅga, you became lord of the Vidyādharas. Ascending to heaven, you were respectfully welcomed by the hosts of gods. Then, all this was related to the ancient gods by the hosts of Rudra: ‘O lords of the gods, this is the power of that liṅga which has now manifested. Released from the womb of a crab, you attained the happiness of heaven. From that time, this god is known as Karkaṭeśvara.’ You have now returned again to earth, obtaining a kingdom free from thorns. Therefore, O king, you should quickly worship the liṅga again. By that, your previous karma has been remembered. After merging into that liṅga with your own body, O Pārvatī, and after enjoying pleasures on earth for a long time, they attain the highest state.