As the tumult of battle loomed, those present—beings arisen for this conflict—contemplated righteousness, seeking to act in accordance with dharma. They implored the hero, revered for his devotion to righteousness, not to make any false promise, urging him to rescue them with his mighty attendants. Having spoken thus, the terrible diseases—beings capable of assuming any form at will—manifested themselves. Some appeared mounted upon elephants, others upon horses and chariots, displaying their formidable strength. Still others arrived with deer, jackals, buffaloes, tigers, and sheep, each equipped with diverse vehicles and brandishing a variety of weapons. The air resounded with the tumult of drums, trumpets, and the clamor of warriors, and then, in that deep darkness, a fierce battle erupted. The earth was illuminated by severed heads adorned with earrings, a grisly light in the gloom. Blows rained down from spears, javelins, staffs, tomaras, and swords, making the battle dreadful, tumultuous, and hair-raising. Warriors engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat, their arms entwined, seizing each other's hair in desperate struggle. Soon, the rākṣasas—demons of terrible valor—were broken by the hero’s messengers. The piśācas, also slain, retreated from the battlefield, afflicted and weary from war. Amidst the chaos, cries rang out: "Stop, stop! Where are you going?" and "I will not go; stand firm!" Yet some taunted, "Fool, you did not hurl a weapon at me that could cause me pain," while others retorted, "What are you saying, O wicked-minded one? It is I who have crossed over in battle." Suddenly, terrifying flesh-eating rākṣasas appeared before them. When these shape-shifting rākṣasas were broken, both invisible and visible, the army—shrouded in darkness—beheld the trident-wielder, his eyes deformed, the destroyer of all living beings. Urged on by Citragupta, these beings began to devour and strike. The warriors cried out to the Lord of the world, "Today, O greatly fortunate one, protect us!" Fever, enraged and radiant, attacked thousands of warriors, sending forth men blazing like fire to burn the sinners quickly with his power and might. By Fever’s command, all of them, roaring like thunderclouds, struck with many blows of weapons and various shining arms. Then Yama, the Lord of Dharma, himself unleashed the battle. He approached the mighty Fever, repeatedly appeasing and soothing him with respect. Amidst the confusion, Yama entered his own house to rest. Afterwards, the Lord of Dharma, rejuvenated, approached Kāla, the great Fever, who was honored by all the worlds and was the cause of anger and exhaustion. Kāla declared, "We shall rule as we wish, as we have seen and as we have heard. I destroy all the worlds; I am the slayer of all—there is no doubt." In that battle, sixty million rākṣasas were slain. With their defeat, the battle ceased, and Dharmarāja Yama himself presided. The messengers then spoke with Citragupta, reflecting upon both unwholesome and wholesome deeds, which are shaped by the qualities of one's actions. Thus, the consequences of righteousness and unrighteousness unfolded amidst the aftermath of the great conflict.