Swiftly descending to earth, the mighty son of Mitra and Varuṇa stood steadfast upon the ground. He took his place to the west of Vasu’s famed city, in the region east of that ancient, celebrated site. In that sacred land, many great souls—men of wisdom, those who had performed hundreds and thousands of sacrifices, and kings who had completed a thousand horse sacrifices—had all gained renown as wielders of the mace. Their fame was such that they were likened to a sharp axe felling the mighty tree of sin. By the grace of the Blessed Lord, these people attained the endless fruits of their grand sacrificial rites. Through acts as simple as seeing, tasting, and anointing, he brought about the supreme destruction of the world’s sins. Establishing an ashram for the worship of the divine, he took up residence there. It was there that Indra, thousand-eyed king of the gods, performed austerities, offering praise to the god who wields the mace. For a full year, Indra remained free from desire and anger, steadfast in his penance. At the end of his austerities, the Lord addressed him: “Go now; I am pleased with you. You are freed from sin. I shall strive, O Śakra, so that future blessings may unfold as you desire.” After the god had bathed, the assembled men approached him and asked, “O Lord, instruct us regarding this sin.” He replied, “Dwell only in the region between the two blissful mountains, the Himālaya and Kaliñjara, O Pulindas.” Having been worshipped, he approached his mother, the abode of righteousness and worthy of praise. Bowing at her feet, which glowed like the heart of a lotus, he reported to her the austerities he had performed. He also recounted his victory in battle, achieved through his own strength alongside the hosts of gods. But his mother, afflicted with sorrow, sought refuge in Viṣṇu—the ancient, praiseworthy god. She worshipped the eternal source of all that moves and does not move, approaching him with pure conduct, restrained speech, and without expectation. In her prayers she cried, “Conquer, O fire born of sin’s fuel, who blocks the mass of darkness—salutations to you! You are the cause of all that moves and does not move; you are the Lord, the Form of the Universe—protect me! Having overcome the defeat of enemies, I have taken refuge in you.” She honored him with oleander flowers, incense, and food worthy of the Sun. Praising him with holy hymns, she stood fasting, deeply engaged in worship. She gave gold and sesame-ghee to the twice-born, purifying herself before the Lord. At last, emerging before her, the Lord spoke: “By my grace, you will obtain that rare desire—there is no doubt. I will destroy the Dānavas, entering your womb.” Trembling, she addressed the source of the worlds again and again: “In whose womb the entire world—moving and unmoving—dwells, in whose belly the seven oceans and the mountains reside, grant that I may not experience suffering, O Janārdana.” He replied, “So be it. I will be born in your womb, O Goddess. I will sustain myself by yoga—do not be distressed, O Ambikā. Then the Daityas shall surely become powerless.” By a portion of his own radiant splendor, the Lord entered the Goddess’s womb, for the sake of Indra. As foretold, the Asuras lost their power. Bali, the tiger among the Dānavas, noticed this great change and spoke: “Speak, for you are supremely knowledgeable and skilled in discerning auspicious and inauspicious matters. For what reason has there been this loss of your radiance, and why is it so great?