As Hari journeyed along the path, his eyes fell upon a cow-mother. In that place, he beheld the Dānavas, reveling in joy and immersed in pleasures. Untroubled and confident, they drew near and began to unleash volleys of arrows, scattering them like showers upon the earth. Hari, resolute, responded as a mighty cloud pours rain upon the mountains, covering them in a deluge—so did he envelop the Dānavas with his own arrows. Among them was Pāka, whom Hari pierced with sharp-tipped, feathered arrows. Śakra, the illustrious lord of the immortals, became the chastiser of Pāka. With well-feathered shafts, he tore Pāka apart, earning the name Purandara, the destroyer of cities. Thus, the conquered foe was cast down to the netherworld. O best of sages, what more would you wish to hear from me, as told by Tryambaka? Yet, a doubt lingers in my heart, O Brāhman, and returns again and again: what did the destroyer of enemies do after Hiraṇyakaśipu was slain? In those days, a plea arose: “O Lord, you are my master; grant me a son who will be the slayer of Indra.” The answer came: “Endowed with purity and good conduct, you shall remain for a hundred years. You will bear a son, O 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. Reaching that sacred hermitage, he spoke to Diti. Prompted by destiny, the goddess uttered the word, “Bāṇa.” With a disciplined mind focused on his purpose, the sage searched for flaws as a serpent seeks out its prey. When a hundred years had passed, the ascetic, having bathed Diti’s head, rendered her pure. She slept soundly, her feet entwined at the ends of her hair. O Nārada, at that moment, he entered his mother’s womb through her nostril. There, he saw a mighty child, lying with hands pressed firmly and face turned upward. With hands shining like pure crystal, the child seized his mother, pressing her, and she became hard. Then, O Nārada, a thunderbolt with a hundred joints, formed of flesh, was produced. With it, he cut her into seven parts, and she cried out with a loud voice. The father heard the cries of his son and, having spoken, cut each of the seven parts into seven again. Fearing the curse, the child joined his hands in reverence and spoke to Diti: “It was by your own request that I struck; therefore, do not be angry with me.” Even when the appointed time was fulfilled, Diti had attained purity. O beautiful one, with the king of the gods, he sent them forth. Then, O great sage, the blessed Mahendra, known as the slayer of Vṛtra, split her with his thunderbolt. Now, tell me, by whom did those beings first exist along the path of the wind? Who were those who dwelt in the path of the wind? Please explain this to me. From the era of Svāyambhuva up to the present Manvantara, there was a son named Savana, honored by the three worlds. When Savana departed, his wife Sudevā was overcome with grief and wept bitterly, lamenting again and again, “Lord, Lord,” as though bereft of a protector. In her sorrow, she declared, “If your truth is indeed supreme, then let this fire become your companion along with your husband.