The pure, watery locks of Brahmā overflowed, inundating all around with their sacred essence. Having made this offering to Brahmā, the Lord of Creatures addressed her, saying, “By being mixed with my own essence, you shall become the destroyer of the buffalo.” He spoke further, acknowledging her power: “Your command, which not even the gods can transgress, has been forcefully set aside.” This he repeated, emphasizing the extraordinary nature of what had occurred. Receiving the conjunction with Kṛttikā, the daughter of the mountain—she who would become known as Pārvatī—assumed a firm and resolute form. Though she tried to restrain her austerities, someone approached and spoke to her. Thus approached, the maiden made her way to the forest of austerities, her mind fixed unwaveringly on Rudra, and there she undertook exceedingly difficult penances. Elsewhere, a command was given: “Bring here that Kālī, who is performing austerities in the Himalayas.” But those sent to approach her found themselves unable to draw near, overpowered by the radiance she emitted. They returned and reported to Brahmā that her brilliance was superior to their own, and Brahmā himself stood there, bearing witness to her power. It was clear to all: their own brilliance had been scattered and destroyed by the radiance of this maiden. A call went forth: “Arrange for the buffalo, along with the stars, to be slain in battle.” With this, those who had been troubled returned to their own abodes, their distress now gone. Turning away from austerities, a certain great-minded one, with his wife, journeyed home. He wandered among the lofty mountains, their excellent peaks rising all around, and there, honored with faith, the Lord spent the night. A request was made: “Remain here, O Lord, for the purpose of accomplishing austerities.” He agreed, taking refuge in the hermitage, abandoning his former dwelling and living without shelter. To that place came Kālī, the auspicious daughter of the mountain king. Hara, devoted to yoga, welcomed her with hospitality and remained there. The radiant lady, accompanied by her companions, bowed at his noble feet. But then, Hara declared, “This is not proper,” and vanished from sight along with his attendants. Burning with inner sorrow, Pārvatī spoke to her father, expressing her longing for the worship of Śaṅkara, the wielder of the bow. She, now called Lalitā, undertook further austerities, desiring above all to worship Hara. She began by gathering sacred sticks, grass, fruits, and roots, performing the rite with great energy and concluding with the words, “May there be well-being.” Tripurāntaka, pleased by her devotion and faith, revealed himself. Clad in a deerskin, wearing the sacred thread, and carrying an umbrella, he wandered from hermitage to hermitage until he came to Kālī’s abode. There, having worshipped her according to custom, he asked, “Where and when will you depart? Quickly, tell me.” She replied, “Now, for pilgrimage, I will go to Pṛthūdaka. By bathing on the way, in which places, what merit have you obtained?” He recounted, “At the holy place Kubjāmra, at Jayanta Caṇḍikeśvara, on the Sarasvati, at the fire altar, and at Bhadra in the heavenly realm, I performed baths without desire, and then I came here to your hermitage.” With humility, he said, “I wish to ask you something; do not be angry with me for that.” And he added, “Even in childhood, self-restraint of the body is praiseworthy among the twice-born.