As the mighty being roared, flames burst forth from his ears. From those flames arose whole hosts of beings—vetālas, fierce spirits, pretas, and piśācas—ghastly and powerful. Alongside them came kūṣmāṇḍas and yātudhānas, their faces ablaze with energy, springing up by the millions, each wielding a variety of weapons. Beholding this vast and fearsome army, each spirit armed in its own way, he fashioned a most resplendent chariot, woven from the very fabric of Vedic knowledge. This chariot was no ordinary vehicle: the Ṛg and other Vedas formed its structure, while horses symbolized the threefold essence, the triple braid, the triple worship, the three pressings, the righteous dice, and even the sound of the wind. Day and night were its two banners; righteousness and unrighteousness served as its twin rods. The chariot itself embodied all knowledge, and Brahma, the creator, took the role of charioteer, accompanied by other gods. On this divine chariot, the Gayatri mantra became the bow, Om the bowstring, and the seven notes the arrows for the Lord of gods. Having assembled all these wondrous elements, the glorious Lord, his wrath blazing, set out for Daksha’s sacrifice. As he advanced, leading the Angirasa spirits through the sky, the very collection of mantras uttered by the priests was lost at his arrival—such was the overwhelming presence of Rudra. Alarmed at this reversal, the priests cried out: “Let the gods arm themselves; a great danger has come upon you!” They feared that some mighty demon, perhaps created by Brahma, was coming to claim a share of the sacrifice—a share that was nearly impossible to obtain in this sacred rite. In their distress, the gods turned to their grandsire, Daksha, and asked, “Revered one, what should we do? Tell us your will.” Daksha replied, “Let weapons be swiftly taken up, let battle be arranged here.” At his command, the gods, armed with many kinds of weapons, prepared for a great battle against Rudra’s followers. The battlefield became a tumult of ghouls, spirits, goblins, planets, and witches—all wielding different weapons—clashing fiercely with the guardians of the worlds. The gods drove the fierce spirits toward Yama’s abode, hurling dreadful arrows, swords, and axes. Yet the spirits, enraged, retaliated with blazing brands, bones, and arrows, attacking the gods before Rudra. In that terrifying and intense battle, Rudra himself loosed a single arrow that pierced Bhaga’s eyes. As Bhaga’s eyes were destroyed by Rudra’s storm of arrows, the radiant Pushan, furious, turned to fight Rudra. Seeing Pushan unleash volleys of arrows, Rudra, the destroyer of enemies, responded by pulling out Pushan’s teeth. Witnessing Pushan thus struck, the Vasus scattered in all directions, and even the eleven Rudras quickly departed. Seeing their allies routed and fleeing, the glorious Vishnu—the younger brother of the Sun—addressed his own army, rebuking them: “Where has your manliness gone? Have you abandoned your pride and greatness? Why do you not remember your resolve, your noble lineage, and your glory?” He reminded them that even the Supreme Lord, the self-born Brahma, had once offered futile salutations on earth out of fear. Having spoken thus, Hari—Vishnu—clad in yellow garments and holding conch, discus, and mace, the sustainer of all people, mounted his great eagle, Garuda. Then, a hair-raising battle erupted between Hari and Hara. Rudra struck Vishnu with the mighty Pashupata weapon, and Vishnu, enraged, struck Rudra with the Narayana weapon. These two divine weapons, released in anger, clashed in the sky. Rudra and Narayana fought fiercely, each intent on the other’s destruction, and their cosmic battle raged for a thousand years. On that battlefield, one wore a crown adorned with matted locks, while the other blew a conch and sounded a beautiful drum. One wielded a sword, the other a staff; one’s body shone with the Kaustubha gem, the other was adorned with sacred ashes. One whirled a mace, the other a staff; one’s neck gleamed with jewels, the other with bones; one was clad in yellow garments, the other wore a serpent for a belt. Thus, these two—Rudra and Narayana—fierce and rivalrous, each striving to surpass the other, were beheld by Brahma, the Grandfather of all. Seeing the devastation, Brahma called out, “Let the weapons be withdrawn, O virtuous ones, each according to his own nature.” At his command, both became peaceful. Then Brahma spoke to Vishnu and Rudra: “Both of you, Hari and Hara, will become renowned in the world as gods. This sacrifice, though disrupted, will be completed; and the world will gain fame through Daksha and his lineage.” Turning to the assembly, Brahma declared, “Let Rudra’s share be given to him. Rudra’s share is the foremost portion—so proclaims the Veda. O gods, offer praise to Rudra, our supreme lord.” He continued, “Praise the god who destroyed Bhaga’s eye and Pushan’s teeth. Quickly offer hymns with these names, so that, pleased in spirit, he may grant you boons.” Thus instructed, the gods, filled with devotion, bowed to the self-born one and offered hymns to the great-souled Shambhu. Their voices rose in reverence: “Salutations to the one with the fierce eye, salutations to you, Three-eyed One; salutations to the thousand-eyed, salutations to you who hold the trident. Salutations to you who hold the skull-staff, salutations to you who bear the rod; O god, your brilliance equals the blaze of a million suns and fires. O god, through ignorance and lack of discernment, we have acted wrongly; forgive us, O lord, for this offense. Salutations to the three-eyed remover of suffering, O Shambhu, trident-bearer, of fearsome face and form; lord of all gods, of pure nature, be gracious, O Rudra, imperishable one, all-pervading.” Thus, with humility and praise, the gods sought Rudra’s forgiveness and favor, restoring harmony to the worlds.