Viṣṇu, with irresistible force, struck down the mighty Kujambha, sending him lifeless from his chariot to the ground. Yet, undaunted and filled with rage, Kujambha surged up once more, his mind clouded with fury, and rushed at Śakra like a lion attacking an elephant. In his grasp he seized a terrible spear, as fearsome as Yama’s rod, a weapon bestowed by Agni himself, and hurled it at his adversary. With swift precision, Viṣṇu reduced Kujambha’s mace to ashes and pierced Jambha in the heart, causing him to fall unconscious to the earth. Witnessing their champion fallen, the Daityas were seized by fear and began to flee. In awe, they praised the might of Indra, as the noble son of Gotrabhit stood beside Shiva, steadfast and resolute. As the battle raged on, a call rang out: “Come, come, O hero! Return to the house, O great Asura. Let us meet again in combat upon the mountain.” Declaring his lineage boldly, the Daitya vowed never to abandon the battlefield. With unshakable resolve, he proclaimed that he would conquer the gods, Dānavas, Gandharvas, Indra, and even Maheshvara himself. He turned to Shambhu, his charioteer, offering him comforting and sweet words, and declared that he would not rest until he had destroyed with showers of arrows the hosts of Pramathas and the gods. With this, he struck the dark, swift horses with his whip. The steeds, exhausted and distressed, struggled to draw the mighty chariot, and even with the speed of the wind, it took a full year to reach the battlefield. Upon arrival, the Daitya unleashed his power, covering the gods—Indra, Upendra, and Maheshvara included—with his assault. At this moment, the blessed Janardana, wielder of the discus, addressed the gods, urging them to act swiftly if they desired victory: “Carry out my command at once. Let the enemy’s chariot be shattered, and let him be made chariotless. The enemy singled out by the preceptor of the gods must not be ignored, O gods.” Heeding these words, the gods surged forward with Indra and the wielder of the discus at their side. In a flash, the Daitya was struck down with a mace, pierced in the heart by a spear, and his life departed as he fell to the earth. The ascetics quickly destroyed his chariot, with its proud banner and sturdy axle. Yet, undeterred, the mighty Daitya seized his mace and charged at the gods once more. Standing firm, the lord of the Daityas addressed Mahadeva with reasoned words, proclaiming, “Still, I shall defeat you. Witness my valor today!” In a display of power, he drew into his own body all those who were with Brahma, and then called out, “Come, come, O contented one! Though I stand alone, I am ready.” Swiftly, the Daitya advanced on Shankara, wielding his mace. Shiva, the wielder of the trident, stood on the mountain slope, facing his foe on foot. Assuming a terrible and immense form, frightening to the three worlds, Shiva appeared adorned with a garland of serpents, his throat like a mountain cave, twenty and a half arms, and six and a half eyes—a wondrous and awe-inspiring sight. Auspicious and eternal, Shiva struck down the enemy with his trident. With great speed, the Daitya was flung a krosha’s distance, uprooted along with his mace by the force of the trident. Yet, grasping the trident with both hands, the demon leapt up, and from the blow of his mace, streams of blood fell in four directions. This vanquished foe is renowned as Vidyaraja, adorned with a garland of lotuses; as Kalaraja, shining like black collyrium; and as Kamaraja, radiant like the blossom of the flax flower. Thus, the gods beheld the might and glory of Shiva and the downfall of the Daitya in this great and wondrous battle.