Upon the mountain, torrents rained down, as if the heavens themselves had unleashed their showers. Amidst this deluge, the Goddess, enraged and radiant with power, seized her magnificent bow. Its golden back gleamed brilliantly, flashing like lightning against the dark rainclouds above. With her mighty mace and club, she struck down foes, while her shield felled others, each blow resounding across the battlefield. Her lion companion shook its mane, and together they struck terror into the hearts of the demons. Some demons had their necks torn asunder by ploughs, others were cleaved by axes. Panic seized their ranks: some fled, some fell where they stood, others withered, and many abandoned the fight altogether. Overwhelmed by fear, they mistook the Goddess for the very Night of Destruction and ran desperately to escape her wrath. Witnessing this chaos, Namara, a formidable demon, approached, mounted upon a furious elephant. In the thick of battle, he hurled his trident at the lion. Then, the mighty Hari was seized by the lordly elephant, crushed in its grasp, and his lifeless form was cast from the elephant’s shoulder as an offering to the gods. Namara spun his weapon in his left hand, sounding it like a thunderous drum. From the Goddess’s laughter, wondrous beings emerged: some with the faces of horses, others of buffalo, and still others with boar-like visages. These creatures possessed a variety of faces, eyes, feet, and carried many kinds of weapons. Some played instruments, while others sang praises to Ambika, the Mother. Yet, the Goddess struck them down as a mighty thunderbolt shatters a crop, scattering them across the field. Cikṣura, commander of the demon army, now engaged the gods in battle. He unleashed volleys of arrows upon the earth, raining them down like storm clouds. He took up sixteen arrows, each adorned with golden feathers and razor-sharp points. With one, he slew the charioteer; with another, he cut down the battle banner. When his bow was broken, Cikṣura seized his sword and shield, but the Goddess split them apart with four arrows and then took up her spear. He rejoiced in the forest, likened to a jackal delighting with the lion’s mate, but his fury was met with arrows, and the demon fell. Suddenly, another demon with a dreadful mouth rushed forward at terrifying speed. Durddhara, Durmukha, and one with cat-like eyes joined the charge, advancing upon Kātyāyanī wielding a multitude of weapons and missiles. The Goddess laughed and began to play her excellent ḍamaru drum, its sound echoing through the battlefield. The hosts of spirits danced and laughed in response. The Supreme Lady struck her foes, seizing them by their hair. The Mother of the World danced, played the vīṇā, and drank wine, her garments loosened and her energy spent. Seeing her thus, the great demon lords watched intently. With her beak, tail, and chest, and the wind of her breath, she drove away the hosts of spirits. Desiring to slay the lion in battle, one demon fled, but Ambikā was overcome by wrath. She agitated the oceans and dispersed the clouds, advancing toward the fortress with unstoppable force. She severed the trunk of the elephant, and struck down the mighty buffalo, noble in lineage. She hurled the spear gifted by the fire-god, but its tip was blunted and fell harmlessly to the ground. Then, she swung the mace of the lord of wealth, and when thrown, it broke and crashed upon the earth. Thus, the Goddess’s fury and power swept across the battlefield, scattering the demon hosts and asserting her divine might.