Seeking refuge in the divine, a devotee calls upon Viṣṇu for protection from every direction. “O Viṣṇu, guard me in the south, for I have come to you as my shelter. O Viṣṇu, protect me in the west, for I seek refuge in you alone. In the north, O Lord of the universe, I surrender myself to your care. Salutations to you! In the northeast, O destroyer of harm, protect me, for I have come to you for refuge. In the southeast, O Viṣṇu—boar of the sacrifice—hold me fast and keep me safe. In the southwest, O Divine Form, O Man-Lion, shield me. In the northwest, O God with the horse’s head, I bow to you; protect me. Always, O Unconquered One, I offer salutations—protect me, O Invincible One. Boundless One, Great Delusion, Supreme Person—I bow to you again and again; protect me, O God.” In times past, for the sake of protection, the great Īśa and Kātyāyanī invoked these prayers, as did others among the twice-born. The names of dreadful beings—Namara and Raktabīja—were spoken, for these and other thorns among the gods and the Kurus brought disturbance. All these stories, dear one, should be narrated with care and in detail. Kātyāyanī herself—always the boon-giving Durgā—was invoked for her blessings. In those days, two mighty Daityas, Rambha and Karambha, performed fierce austerities. For many years, they remained immersed in the waters of the five rivers, seeking power. Together, they approached the Yakṣa Mālapaṭa, and, taking him with their feet, struck him as they wished. Driven by desire for a boon, the mighty Rambha pressed his own head into the fire, intending to offer it as an oblation. As he sought to cut off his own head, the fire itself restrained him. For it is hard to overcome one destined to be slain by another, but even harder to defeat one fated for self-destruction. The fire spoke: “Do not die; for when one is dead, all stories here are lost.” Moved by his devotion, Rambha prayed, “May my son, by your surpassing energy, become the conqueror of the three worlds.” The boon was granted: “He will be mighty as the wind, able to assume any form at will, and skilled in the use of weapons. Whatever you set your mind upon, my son, that you shall accomplish.” Rambha then journeyed to see the Yaksha Malavata, surrounded by other Yakshas, amidst elephants, buffaloes, horses, cows, and flocks of goats and sheep. In the queen, Trihāyaṇī—endowed with beauty and great austerity—he found a worthy companion. Compelled by destiny, Rambha set out on his path, entered the netherworld, and returned to his own palace. Yet, being called one who acts wrongly, he traveled to Malavata, to the sacred and excellent region of the Yakshas. There, he begot a pure son—a buffalo who could assume any form at will. The noble Diti was approached by Rambha’s queen, who preserved her own virtue. But soon, conflict arose. Drawing his sword swiftly, Rambha rushed at the buffalo. The virtuous queen was protected by the Guhyakas, who restrained the buffalo. In the struggle, Rambha fell into a divine lake, and thus the Daitya met his end. The buffalo, seeking safety, took refuge among the Yakshas, driving away the wild beasts. The queen, dark-complexioned and true to her dharma, ascended the funeral pyre and was united with her husband in the final act of devotion.