As he arrived, his form radiant with all auspicious marks and features, the assembly took notice. At the goddess’s summons, Jaya and the others hastened to her side, their devotion evident. The three-eyed Lord Śiva, beholding both Girijā and the demon Andhaka, addressed the goddess with compassion and authority: “O goddess, this Andhaka has been made your servant by me.” Then, turning to his attendants, Śiva declared, “O son, quickly destroy Andhaka.” At his command, Nandi and Andhaka—now the chief among the hosts—joined together in a sacred act of praise. Their hymn was meritorious, sin-destroying, and perfectly aligned with the scriptures. Pleased with their devotion, Śiva spoke again: “Son, I am pleased. Ask for the highest boon.” With humility, they replied, “May devotion to you, O Lord, and to Ambika, ever abide in our hearts.” Thereafter, Andhaka remained in the Lord’s service, worshipping Śarva, and was established as the lord of Śiva’s hosts. Assuming a fearsome form, Bhairava himself was manifest by his own devotion. The hymn they recited was declared fit to be chanted by the best of the twice-born, by all who seek righteousness, long life, health, and wealth. With his task accomplished, the speaker turned to his companion: “My own work is done; you ought to explain it to me.” The reply was gentle and wise: “O Brahman, what has been done serves the welfare of the world and also oneself.” The defeated ones, eager to escape, were driven by the hosts of gods toward the netherworld—a realm overgrown with creepers and teeming with intoxicated beings. There, a mountain fragrant with mādhavī blossoms, beloved of sages and pleasing to Hara, became their refuge. Led by Maya and Tāra, they made this mountain their dwelling, where the southern breeze blew gently, cool and perfumed. In that place, the gods performed acts worthy of universal honor. As Hari journeyed along his path, he saw a cow-mother and beheld the Dānavas, reveling in pleasure. The Dānavas, untroubled, approached and loosed volleys of arrows. Like a raincloud covering the mountains, Hari unleashed a torrent of arrows upon them. He struck Pāka with sharp, feathered shafts, and Śakra—lord of the immortals—became the chastiser of Pāka. With well-feathered arrows, he tore his foe apart, thereby earning the name Purandara, destroyer of cities. Thus, those who were conquered descended into the netherworld. The sage was then asked, “O best of sages, what else would you hear from me, as narrated by Tryambaka?” A doubt lingered in the heart of his listener, and he voiced it: “This question returns again and again—what did the destroyer of enemies do after Hiraṇyakaśipu was slain?” In reply, the Lord was addressed: “You are my master; grant me a son who will slay Indra.” The Lord responded, “Endowed with purity and good conduct, you will live for a hundred years. You will bear a son, beloved, who will be the slayer of enemies—there is no other way.” After performing the rite of conception, the sage journeyed to Mount Udaya. Arriving at that hermitage, he spoke to Diti. Moved by destiny, the goddess uttered the name “Bāṇa.” With a disciplined mind and fixed purpose, the sage sought out any flaws, as a serpent seeks its prey. At the end of a hundred years, the ascetic purified her with a ritual bath. Diti slept peacefully, her feet entwined with the ends of her hair, resting in hope and fulfillment.