With a mighty and terrible force, the goddess pressed her foot upon an enemy, sending him instantly to his death. Witnessing this dreadful act, Ruru was seized with terror and fled, but Caṇḍī herself fixed her gaze upon him. Overcome, he fell lifeless to the ground, as if a great tree had been felled at its root. Without pause, the goddess tore open his armor, stripping it away from his ear down to his feet. Of their company, only one remained unbound; Caṇḍī seized her as well, hurling her to the earth. In that moment, the goddess’s own form shone with a striking hue—half dark, 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 attendants. Terrified, two of the enemy fled, seeking refuge in the southern direction. The goddess mounted a swift ass, whose speed rivaled that of Garuḍa himself, and set out in pursuit. On her path, she beheld Pauṇḍra, the buffalo, and Māsya. Seizing him with her hand, she pressed on, chasing the fleeing Dānavas with the swiftness of the wind. The great goddess, astride her donkey, rushed forward with incredible speed. When one among them saw Karkoṭaka, his hair bristled in fear; fierce feathers from the celestial bird fell upon him. Still, the goddess pressed on, pursuing the terrified Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa. Bound by Karkoṭaka, she tied them securely and made her way to the Vindhya mountains. There, with the heads of the demon lords and the splendid feathers of Garuḍa, she offered up the rattling lion’s hide as a trophy of her conquest. With her own hand, she drank the blood of the demons. Enraged, Durgā made the two great asuras headless, severing them in her wrath. Having accomplished this, she went to Kauśikī, accompanied by Māryā. The goddess, adorned with the heads of the demons and entwined by the king of serpents, bound up her foe and declared, “A most terrible deed has been done.” She pronounced, “Therefore, in the world, your fame will be as Cāmuṇḍā.” Clad only in the directions, Cāmuṇḍā was addressed: “Go forth and destroy those armies of mules.” Striking down the fierce enemy army, she wandered the battlefield, devouring other asuras as she went. As the foremost among the Dānavas fell before her, the survivors fled to seek refuge with Śumbha, the horned one. Now, surrounded by thirty crores of divisions of troops, the great goddess, together with her hosts, let out a thunderous lion’s roar. Seated in a celestial chariot drawn by swans, she held a rosary and a water-pot, radiating divine authority. Suddenly, a fierce being encircled by great serpents arose—Kuṇḍalinī herself. From the sage of the gods appeared another, riding a splendid peacock. Bearing the bow Śārṅga and arrows, the resplendent Vaiṣṇavī form was born. Behind her came Vārāhī, standing upon the serpent king Śeṣa. From the circle of her breast emerged Māhendrī, mounted upon the mighty lord of elephants. From her heart arose Nakhinī, the terribly fierce Nārasiṃhī. The goddess’s great roar filled the three worlds, and hearing this, the assembled beings approached her. Paying homage to Ambikā, they spoke words of reverence to the goddess. At that very moment, from the goddess’s own body, Śivā was born, completing the radiant assembly of divine powers.