With his chariot shattered by the whirling discus, the mighty Niśumbha, burning with rage, advanced toward Mṛḍānī. Yet, as he drew near, he was suddenly stricken—paralysis seized his limbs, confusion clouded his mind, and fever raged within him. He stood motionless, as if he were no more than a painted figure. Addressing the goddess, Niśumbha declared, “With this strength, you have overcome the gods; it is with this very power that you now seek to conquer me.” He paused to reflect, then, being eloquent among speakers, he continued, “You, timid one, will be shattered into a hundred pieces, like a clay pot plunged into water. Therefore, I have resolved: you, with eyes wide as lotus petals, accept me. Turn your mind away from battle—become my wife at this very moment.” But Niśumbha, his expression deep and serious, laughed and replied, “If you desire marriage here, then first defeat me in combat.” At that moment, Nārada, the divine sage, hurled a wondrous weapon toward Kauśikī. She, swift as thought, cut through it and its hide, as if performing a miracle. With the speed of the wind, she charged at the one born from the treasury. In the heat of battle, Ambikā, with a razor-edged blade, severed both the weapon and the mace. The mothers beginning with Caṇḍā, delighted by this feat, filled the air with a clattering sound of joy. Exultant, they cried out, “Victory! Triumph!” as the enemy fell. The gods, overjoyed, showered Kātyāyanī with blossoms. Niśumbha, undaunted, mounted Vṛndāraka, a mighty steed, and approached, a noose in his hand. He took up four arrows, each radiant as the crescent moon. Ambikā, smiling playfully, struck the two jars he carried with two well-aimed arrows, as powerfully as Indra’s thunderbolt striking the king of mountains. Śivā then loosed an arrow that severed his head, adorned with shining earrings, just as Mahāsena strikes down a crane or a buffalo. When the gods arrived at that great mountain, they bowed low in humility and offered words of praise to the goddess. They said, “Salutations to you, giver of the kingdoms of Hari and Hara; salutations to you, accomplisher of the sacrificers’ deeds. Salutations to you, destroyer of the buffalo demon; to you, praised by Hari, Hara, and Bhāskara. Salutations to you, remover of the world’s suffering, wielder of the trident; salutations to you, Nārāyaṇī, bearer of the discus. Salutations to you, bearer of the thunderbolt, with the elephant banner; to you, Kaumāri, who rides the peacock. Salutations to you, who ride upon the donkey’s back; to you, remover of all suffering, who are the universe itself. Salutations to you, all-pervading, three-eyed goddess; repeated salutations to you, bestower of boons—be gracious. “You are difficult to behold, O Nārasiṃhī, with your roaring voice; you are Indrāṇī, armed with the thunderbolt; you are Mārī, clad in hide, delighting in the path of skulls, a Yoginī accomplished in yoga. Truly, there is no misfortune or disgrace for those who always offer you praise, strength, and flowers. “By your grace, we have attained the utmost victory over the enemies of the gods in battle. The destruction of evil dreams is certain—there is no doubt. Now, O goddess, choose another boon as you desire.” The goddess replied, “Again, I shall burn up the enemies of the gods, my body blazing like fire. I am devoted to the destruction of the demon Andha, and am renowned in the worlds as Carcikā. Vipracitti, Lavaṇa, and others, as well as Śumbha and Niśumbha, and the ten-fanged assailant—together with the goddess of boundless truth and power, I shall sustain the gods as Śākambharī. Having slain the wicked Daityas, I shall return once more to the abode of the gods. Assuming the form of Mahālī, after destroying life, I shall again return to heaven.” Having thus spoken, the goddess dismissed the assembled beings and ascended into the sky, followed by hosts of perfected souls.