In that moment, there appeared the wondrous and incomparable form of Varaha, the boar incarnation, manifesting as the very power of Hari. Alongside, she herself arrived, assuming the formidable body of Varahi. Then came Narasimhi, taking on a form like Narasimha, the Man-Lion, her wild mane scattering the very stars as she approached. Indrāṇī, radiant and powerful, stood upon the mighty king of elephants, bearing a thousand eyes and wielding the thunderbolt—just as Indra himself does in battle. Surrounded by these divine manifestations, the Lord addressed Caṇḍikā, urging her: “Let the asuras be swiftly slain for my satisfaction.” In response, from the body of the god emerged a terrifying, supremely fierce power of Caṇḍikā, her roar echoing like a hundred thunderbolts. This unconquered goddess, her hair matted and wild, spoke with authority to the Lord: “O messenger, go, O blessed one, to Śumbha and Niśumbha. Announce to those two proud asuras and to all the other assembled demons: ‘Let Indra reclaim the three worlds, let the gods receive their due offerings. If you wish to live, depart now to the netherworld. But if, in arrogance and pride, you still desire battle, then come—let my attendants feast upon your flesh.’” She proclaimed further, “Because Śiva himself has been sent as my messenger, I am known in this world as Śivadūtī, the Messenger of Śiva.” When the goddess’s words, as declared by Śarva, reached the asuras, they were filled with rage and hastened to where Kātyāyanī stood. First among them, the enemies of the gods, driven by violent anger, unleashed a torrent of arrows, spears, and javelins upon the goddess. But with effortless grace, she cut down their weapons with her own great arrows, loosed from her drawn bow. Before her, Kālī moved restlessly, striking down foes—some she pierced with her spear, others she bludgeoned with her skull-topped staff. Brahmāṇī, by sprinkling water from her sacred pot, sapped the strength and vigor of the enemies wherever they fled. Māheśvarī struck the demons with her trident, Vaiṣṇavī hurled her discus, and Kaumārī, blazing with fury, pierced the asuras with her spear. Aindrī’s thunderbolt shattered hundreds of demons and Dānavas, who fell to the earth, torrents of blood streaming from their wounds. Some asuras were broken by the blows of Varahi’s boar snout and wounded on the chest by her sharp fangs, while others were torn apart by her discus. Nārasiṃhī, her roar resounding in all directions, tore apart other mighty demons with her claws and devoured them upon the battlefield. Terrified by Caṇḍikā’s thunderous laughter and the threats of Śivadūtī, many demons fell to the ground, only to be devoured by her. Witnessing the host of enraged Mothers crushing the great demons, the armies of the enemies of the gods perished in many ways. When the demon Raktabīja saw his fellows fleeing, tormented by the Mothers, he was seized by wrath and advanced to fight. A terrible power resided in Raktabīja: whenever a drop of his blood touched the earth, from that very spot there arose another mighty demon, equal in size and strength to himself. Wielding a mace, Raktabīja battled Indrāṇī, who struck him with her thunderbolt. Blood gushed from his wounds, and from each drop, warriors appeared, bearing his form and valor. As many drops as fell, so many powerful demons were born, all possessing his strength and courage. These new-born demons joined the battle, fighting alongside the Mothers, making the conflict even more dreadful as fierce weapons rained down. Each time Raktabīja’s head was struck by the thunderbolt, blood spurted forth and thousands more asuras sprang up. In the thick of battle, Vaiṣṇavī struck him with her discus, and Aindrī battered him with her mace. From the streams of blood drawn by Vaiṣṇavī’s discus, innumerable demons arose, filling the world with their numbers. Kumāri pierced him with her spear, Varahi cut him with her sword, and Māheśvarī wounded him with her trident, but Raktabīja, consumed by rage, struck each of the Mothers in turn with his mace. Yet, each time he was wounded—whether by spear, sword, or divine energy—his blood poured onto the earth, and from every drop, countless demons sprang forth. These blood-born asuras soon filled the entire world, striking fear even into the gods. Seeing the gods so disheartened, Caṇḍikā spoke swiftly to Kālī: “O Chamunda, open your mouth wide. Swiftly devour the great demons born from every drop of blood that falls from my weapons and from Raktabīja’s wounds. Consume them in battle—when his blood is exhausted, this demon will perish. Those whom you devour shall never rise again.” With these words, the goddess struck Raktabīja with her spear, and Kālī positioned herself to catch every drop of his blood in her mouth. Raktabīja retaliated, striking Caṇḍikā with his mace, but she remained unharmed, unaffected by the blow. As blood poured from his wounds, wherever it fell, the vigilant Camunda received it in her gaping mouth, ensuring that no more demons could arise from his blood. Thus, the fierce and wondrous battle raged on, the goddesses united in their divine purpose, subduing the seemingly endless power of Raktabīja and his host, restoring hope to the gods.