As the wondrous event unfolded before them, the hosts of Shiva and the other divine beings gazed in awe. They beheld Sadashiva, the god of gods, in his undivided form, and in that sacred moment, their own sense of separateness dissolved. Among these purified souls, now united and free of division, Lord Hari spoke with warmth: “O virtuous ones, I am pleased with you all for attaining this knowledge. May the sin born from perceiving division depart from us forever.” Then, the Unmanifest One—beyond all form—embraced the leaders of the assembled hosts. Just as the Mandara mountain, following the course laid out in the scriptures, found its place in the center, so too did Shiva’s mighty bull, Nandi, with his dark hide and the hue of autumn clouds, shine forth in their midst. Mandara, the foremost of mountains, stood tall, its caves home to the Pramathas, Shiva’s attendant spirits. Excited, the Pramathas struck many musical instruments, filling the air with vibrant sounds. Vinayaka, the lord of obstacles, traveling swiftly upon the path of the wind, heard this commotion. Arriving, he beheld the great Mandara mountain and saw his father, Shiva, standing there. Vinayaka addressed him, “O Lord of the universe, why do you stand still? Arise, eager for battle!” Shiva replied, “I go now to slay Andhaka. One must remain here, vigilant.” Looking upon his son with affection, Hara said, “Go, conquer Andhaka.” With great delight, Vinayaka bowed in reverence and touched his father’s feet. Then Shiva gave instructions: “Jayā, Vijayā, Jayantī, and Aparājitā—these must be carefully protected, O daughter of the mountain, with utmost attention.” Satisfied and eager for victory, the mighty trident-wielder, Shiva, emerged from his abode. His followers surrounded him on every side, raising triumphant cries. Auspicious and gentle signs appeared, foretelling Shambhu’s victory. Meanwhile, hosts of flesh-eating beings and those seeking offerings, thrilled and thirsting for blood, advanced with the army. A green bird, silent, turned away and departed, as if sensing the gravity of what was to come. The moon-crested Shiva, smiling, addressed the mountain and the others: “Omens are seen here, O lord of the hosts, that have arisen. What doubt can there be, O Mahadeva, that you will conquer your enemies?” With resolve, Shiva ordered his hosts to prepare for battle alongside the great lords of beasts. Warriors bearing a variety of weapons advanced, mighty as uprooted trees. They set out to slay the Pramathas, wielding spiked clubs. With the Sun and Fire leading them, they arrived, eager to witness the coming conflict. The air filled with the mingled sounds of song, musical instruments, and resounding drums, all delighting in the prospect of battle. Enraged, Shiva’s hosts sought to destroy the demon army before them. Then Tuhuṇḍa, filled with fury, rushed forward at great speed. He shone with an intensity like Indra’s raised banner, dazzling all who saw him. Even the Rudras and others, up to Skanda, were seized with fear. Nevertheless, they rushed swiftly toward Tuhuṇḍa, leader of the Danavas. The mighty Tuhuṇḍa hurled his iron club at the back ranks of the formation. O Brahmin, it shattered into a hundred pieces, like a thunderbolt striking the peak of Mount Meru. In the thick of battle, he bound Rāhu with his arm-noose, for Rāhu was protecting his uncle. Then Mahodara struck Tuhuṇḍa on the head with his axe, as the great conflict raged on.