He beheld before him two children, so alike in appearance that they seemed indistinguishable. Troubled by uncertainty, he spoke: “I do not know the truth of what I am asking—tell me plainly.” With earnestness, he pressed further, “Now tell me of this child’s fortunes, and of the deeds spoken about him.” Insistent, he declared, “Tell me today itself, or else I will not eat food.” The one addressed replied, “What you have anxiously asked today—what will this child become?” Meanwhile, the expert charioteer, aware of his duty, went to assist Indra, the lord of the gods. Knowing that he was aiding mighty Indra, the charioteer’s own brilliance grew. He approached and said, “Come here, O Lord of the gods; I will gladly be your charioteer.” Indra, however, questioned him: “How will you control the horses? A doubt arises in my mind.” The charioteer, endowed with the radiance of the Gandharvas and skilled in the art of driving horses, reassured him. This illustrious son of a Brahmin was named Mātali, son of Śamīka, and it was he who took hold of the reins. Upon entering, the glorious one saw a great ploughman fallen on the field. From the hand of the best of gods, he took up a straight arrow, pale as the moon. After bowing in reverence, he set the arrow on the bowstring. These arrows, bearing the sacred names of Brahmā, Śiva, and Viṣṇu, were unleashed in battle, destroying the asuras. O Nārada, the thousand-eyed Indra showered his enemies with exceedingly sharp weapons. Struck by a mighty arrow, the foe fell immediately to the earth, overcome. With their leaders lost, the enemy’s army was routed and defeated. Then Jambhāsura, brandishing his terrible mace, advanced against the imperishable Lord of the gods. Viṣṇu struck down Kujambha with great force, and he fell lifeless from his chariot to the ground. Enraged, Jambhāsura rushed at Śakra in battle, like a lion attacking an elephant, his mind frenzied. He seized a spear, as dreadful as Yama’s rod and gifted by Agni, and hurled it at his foe. Swiftly, Indra reduced Jambhāsura’s mace to ashes and pierced him in the heart. Seeing their champion fallen and unconscious, the Daityas were seized with fear and fled. They praised Indra’s might, and the son of Gotrabhit stood by Shiva’s side. Then a challenge rang out: “Come, come, hero, to the house, great Asura; let us again fight, having come to the mountain. I will not leave the battlefield,” he declared, proclaiming his lineage. “I will conquer the gods, Dānavas, Gandharvas, along with Indra and Maheshvara.” With resolve, he comforted and spoke sweet words to Shambhu, the charioteer. He vowed, “Until I destroy with showers of arrows the hosts of Pramathas and gods—” And with that, he struck the swift, dark-colored horses with the whip. The steeds, sinking at the hips and distressed, could barely draw the chariot. Even moving with the speed of the wind, it took a whole year to reach their destination. Once there, he covered the gods—together with Indra, Upendra, and Maheshvara—in a mighty assault. The blessed Janardana, wielder of the discus, addressed the gods: “Therefore, desiring victory, quickly carry out my command. Let the enemy’s chariot be shattered, and let him be made chariotless. The enemy pointed out by the preceptor of the gods must not be neglected, O gods.” At this, the gods, together with Indra and the wielder of the discus, rushed forth with great speed to battle.