As the enemy forces advanced, their numbers swelling into the hundreds of millions, the goddess surveyed the battlefield. With effortless might, she struck some of the foes with her hand, others with her mouth, dispatching them almost playfully. The lion, her companion from the mountain caves, joined the fray, slaying many more of the enemy. Witnessing the devastation among their own ranks, the enemy’s leaders trembled with anger, their lips quivering in frustration. But as two particularly fierce warriors fell, overcome by wrath, a terrifying new presence emerged: Kālī, the auspicious yoginī, her face fearsome to behold. Kālī’s limbs were withered, her body smeared with blood, and around her neck hung a dreadful garland made from the heads of kings. Enraged beyond measure, she unleashed her fury upon the enemy’s horses, chariots, and elephants, striking them down with savage force. Ambikā, too, displayed her formidable power. She seized an elephant along with its driver and hurled them into her gaping mouth. Grabbing a warrior, she cast him into her jaws and chewed him up, while another she crushed beneath her foot, sending him to his death. Terrified by this spectacle, Ruru turned to flee, but the goddess Caṇḍī fixed her gaze upon him. He fell to the ground, slain as swiftly as a tree felled at the root. The goddess tore open his armor, stripping it from ear to foot, and cast it aside. Of all the enemies, only one remained unbound; she seized this one and threw her to the ground. At that moment, the goddess’s own form appeared half dark and half pale. It was then that she received the renowned name Caṇḍamārī. Declaring, “I myself will slay them; you must bring them here,” she commanded her companions. Terrified, two of the enemy fled, seeking refuge in the southern direction. Mounting a swift ass, as fast as Garuḍa himself, the goddess sped after them. Along the way, she encountered Pauṇḍra, the buffalo, and also Māsya. With her hand, she seized him and continued her pursuit of the Dānavas, moving with the speed of the wind. Riding her donkey, the great goddess surged forward. When she came upon Karkoṭaka, the sight made his hair stand on end. Fierce feathers from the bird Garuḍa fell upon him. With relentless speed, the goddess pursued the terrified Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa. Karkoṭaka bound them, and she tied them up and carried them to the Vindhya mountain. There, with the heads of the demon lords and the splendid feathers of Garuḍa, she made her offering, presenting the rattling lion’s hide. With her own hand, she drank the blood of the demons. Enraged, Durgā made the two great asuras, Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa, headless. Having accomplished this, she went to Kauśikī, accompanied by Māryā. She brought the heads of the demons, entwined by the king of serpents, and tied them up. Addressing her, the goddess declared, “A most terrible deed has been done. Therefore, in this world, your fame shall be known as Cāmuṇḍā.” Clad only in the directions, Cāmuṇḍā was then instructed: “Go forth and destroy those armies of mules.” Obeying, she struck down the fierce enemy army, roaming the battlefield and devouring other asuras. As the foremost of the Dānavas fell before her, the survivors fled in desperation, seeking refuge with Śumbha, the horned one. Surrounded now by thirty crores of divisions of troops, the great goddess, together with her companions, let out a thunderous lion’s roar, shaking the heavens and the earth.