Then, with deep reverence, he bowed to the Sharnga bow and unleashed a relentless shower of arrows. The Daityas, their courage failing, sought the protection of the mighty asura Kalanemi. As they rallied around him, their strength swelled—just as a neglected disease grows unchecked. Kalanemi, the powerful one, seized the Daityas one by one and hurled them into his gaping mouth. At that moment, Viṣṇu’s discus blazed like fire, spreading its radiance across earth and sky, as if the fire of time itself approached, and the whole world seemed poised to be consumed. Overwhelmed, the Daityas, their glory diminished but their arrogance undimmed, attacked Hari with a hail of weapons and missiles. Hari, honored by the hosts of immortals and adorned with a resplendent crown, stood unshaken. With eyes reddened in anger, Viṣṇu’s very gaze swept away the power of chariots, elephants, and horses. He covered the Daityas with nārāca arrows, as a dense cloud covers the mountains. At the onset of this fierce battle, Śatavadana, lord of the Dānavas, dispatched Kālanemi against Keśava—the lord of the gods’ army, master of the worlds, and possessor of immeasurable strength. Kālanemi, his voice thundering, beheld Viṣṇu, proud and the destroyer of the Daitya line, and laughed aloud before speaking at length. “He who ends Hiraṇya’s lineage, fond of worship with flowers—where can that wretch go, now that he has fallen within my sight? The gods, trembling with fear, will see him, his limbs crushed and loosened by my fist, covered in ashes.” In his fury, Kālanemi hurled his mace at Garuḍa, just as Indra might hurl his thunderbolt against a mountain. But Viṣṇu, with his blazing discus, shattered the hopes of that ill-fated asura—the fruit of his own past deeds. Kālanemi’s arms were severed, and his form, now blazing like a scorched mountain, stood before them. Viṣṇu struck him down, and he fell like a ripe palm fruit, while his headless trunk stood unshaken, like Mount Meru itself. Just as Indra once cast down a foe’s arms and head with his thunderbolt, so too did Kālanemi fall, his strength destroyed. Deprived of weapons, armor, and garments, the lords of the Asuras fled in terror—save for Bāṇa alone. The gods, though eager and armed for battle, withdrew from the fight. Viṣṇu addressed them, urging, “Fight on, free from distress!” Thus encouraged, the gods joined battle with the Dānavas, but Viṣṇu himself vanished from their sight. Taking up his mace, the radiant asura charged the army of the gods, felling thousands. The mighty one clashed with the foremost warriors among the gods, and the conflict grew so fierce that even the gods’ own army was turned against them. When Janardana, the Lord, departed, the gods’ spirits faltered. Those who had hoped to conquer the three worlds now fled, abandoning heaven and seeking refuge in the realm of Brahma. With the gods in retreat, Bali became the lord and enjoyer of heaven, along with his sons, brothers, and kin. Varuna became Maya, Soma became Rahu, and Hlada became Hutashana. Among the new rulers, the enemies of the gods were born as appointed deities. A great battle raged between the gods and the demons, and even Shakra himself was vanquished by Bali. Bali, now the lord of ten realms, became renowned as Bhur, Bhuvah, and Svar—the sovereign of all three worlds. In this new order, Gandharvas led by Vishvavasu attended Bali with worship, while Yakshas, Vidyadharas, and others played musical instruments in his honor. Remembering his great-grandfather Prahlada, Bali summoned him in his mind, and Prahlada swiftly came from the netherworld to the imperishable heaven. With hands folded in reverence, Bali bowed at Prahlada’s feet. Prahlada raised him up with affection, embraced him, and entered the supreme seat with him. Thus, the gods were defeated, and Shakra’s kingdom was seized by Bali’s strength and power.