The mighty Andhaka surged into battle, striking down his foes and letting loose a roar that echoed across the field. With relentless force, he rained blows upon his enemies, driving them back as he pressed onward toward Shatakratu, the lord of a hundred sacrifices. In the heat of combat, Andhaka struck down the lord of elephants, shattering him with powerful blows. Meanwhile, Indra, seizing his thunderbolt, entered Amaravati, the celestial city, determined to defend his realm. With his foot, his fist, and every weapon at his disposal, Indra struck down his enemies, scattering them before him. The greatest of the gods rushed at Prahlada himself, intent on destroying him. Yet Prahlada’s son, swift and valiant, stood ready, his bow bent in defiance. With a mighty effort, he shattered his adversary’s weapon and hurled a terrifying staff, a sight that struck fear into the worlds. He blazed like the fire of destruction itself, as if he meant to set the three worlds aflame. In the chaos, the gods and their allies cried out in distress, “Alas, Prahlāda has been struck down by Yama!” But Prahlada, undaunted, reassured them: “Do not be afraid; while I am here, who is this vile enemy of the gods?” Andhaka, filled with fury, roared again—a sound as thunderous as a monsoon cloud. The Daitya and Dānava chiefs, delighted by this display of power, cheered in approval. Yet the tumult became so unbearable, so impossible to withstand, that even Yama, the god of death, vanished from sight, unable to face the onslaught. Andhaka, mighty and relentless, tore apart the army of the gods on every side. With his mace he struck, and Virocana came forward to meet him in battle. Andhaka struck the lord of waters with clubs and even with stones, showing no mercy. He rushed forward, binding the maddened elephant with nooses, and as he approached Varuṇa, Nārada seized him in the midst of the fray. He trampled the lords of the waters and their mounts underfoot, and as he drew near, he loosed arrows that tore through bodies. The wicked one, swift as the wind, repeatedly trampled the lord of the waters beneath his feet. Touching the ground with his feet and seizing heads with his hands, the mighty one tossed his enemies high into the air. With a single motion, he uprooted Virocana, along with his elephant, its driver, and the mount, and hurled them into the sky. Amidst this chaos, the city, with its battlements, gates, and palace grounds, shone brilliantly, radiant as the sun itself. Then, from the Daityas, a supreme cry resounded, as loud and deep as the thunder of clouds. A voice called out, “Prahlada, you and the others—Jambha, Kujambha, and the rest—protect yourselves, joining with Andhaka!” For Andhaka bound enemies with his noose and struck them down with his mace, just as Mahendra, Indra, slays the sacrificial beast at the horse-sacrifice. The Daityas rushed swiftly at the Lord of Waters, like moths drawn to a blazing sacrificial fire. But Varuṇa, the Lord of Waters, brandishing his mace, drove away those enemies led by Jambha. With his foot, Varuṇa struck down Vritra and Kujambha, and with his fist, Bala. Seeing this, Andhaka hastened forward, eager to do battle with Varuṇa. He cast his noose and, seizing his mace, hurled it at the Lord of Waters. With great speed, Varuṇa entered the depths of the ocean, but Andhaka pressed on, crushing the army of the gods. At this moment, Maya, the great-armed and mighty Dānava craftsman, approached Andhaka. But Śambara, with his spear, struck Maya at the throat and seized him by force. Both Maya and Śambara blazed with fury, fire flaring at Maya’s throat where the spear was lodged. Just as a maddened elephant, attacked by a lion in the forest, bellows in pain, so too did the cry arise: “Ah! What is this? By whom in battle have Maya and the Dānava Śambara been defeated?” And a warning sounded: “Protect yourself! No one else can withstand the fire god at the forefront of battle.