The great souls, driven by intense rage, clashed once more upon the battlefield. Yet, despite their might and fury, they found themselves repeatedly defeated, both by day and by night. In the midst of these relentless struggles, at the proper and auspicious moment, the imperishable one—whose form radiated with eighteen arms—was worshipped with deep reverence. Having fulfilled his purpose, the devoted worshipper offered a handful of flowers upon the head of the deity. He then turned his devotion towards the sun, venerating him as Hiraṇyagarbha, and recited sacred prayers. Immersed in profound feeling, he began to dance, whirling his mighty arms with great force. Those who were devoted to the art of dance, seeking to emulate Hara himself, joined in this sacred movement, their bodies expressing their devotion. Meanwhile, the Daityas, under the protection of the three-eyed, three-armed one, readied themselves for battle. Yet even then, these fearless and powerful Daityas were overcome and defeated. At this juncture, Andhaka called upon Sunda and addressed him with earnest words: “Now I will speak what must be said. Listen and do what is fitting. Padma-eyed Pārvatī, the daughter of the mountain, dwells within my heart. O Dānava, I shall enchant her by assuming the form of Hara. Then, after going to her and enjoying her company, I will defeat the Pramathas and the gods.” Thus, Andhaka—son of the mountain—was born, and Śaṅkara also manifested. Both, wounded and battered from the blows they had received, journeyed to the Mandara mountain. The foremost of the Asuras entered there, his mind untroubled by hesitation. Within, he beheld Maheśvara himself, his form marked and bruised by the violence of battle. Witnessing this, Mālinī spoke to Suyaśā, Vijayā, and Jayā, urging them: “Rise quickly, you heroes among Daityas, though you are surrounded by enemies. I myself will tend to the wounds of Pinākin.” Having spoken thus, she affirmed her intent and rose from her noble seat. Standing before the wielder of the trident, she carefully examined his form and its marks. In that moment, she recognized the fierce demon, whose true body was concealed beneath layers of illusion. Perceiving the goddess’s thoughts, the demon Andhaka abandoned Sunda and rushed along the path she had taken. Seeing him charging after her, Girijā fled in fear. Yet, intoxicated by his obsession, Andhaka pursued her relentlessly, O best of sages. Out of terror, Gaurī sought refuge by entering a pure white arka blossom. When Pārvatī was thus lost, Hiraṇyalocanī acted once again. Meanwhile, Andhaka entered the city with his own formidable forces. At that critical moment, Viṣṇu—the best among the hosts of immortals, bearer of the discus and mace—appeared. With arrows released from his Śārṅga bow, Viṣṇu pierced the foremost of the Dānavas. With his mace, he struck down others, and with his discus, Janārdana slew many more. Drawing some near with his plough, he crushed others with the pestle. Then that primeval person, the creator and ancient grandsire, Brahmā, intervened. He touched the Dānavas with water sanctified by all the sacred fords, water that destroys sin. The Dānavas, touched by this holy water, witnessed Brahmā’s power as he aided in the destruction of the great Asuras in battle. Beholding the destroyer of Brahmā slaying the mighty Asuras, Bala—the foremost among the Dānavas—prepared to charge, his heart filled with resolve at the sight of this divine intervention.