The battlefield had become a dreadful wasteland, thickly strewn with flowers and torn cloths ripped from the bodies of fallen warriors. Garlands, grotesquely fashioned from entrails dragged about by jackals, adorned the ground. The blood-lake, once bright with lotus clusters and proud banners, now lay submerged in red mud, its surface broken by the desperate cries of men calling out to friends as they sank beneath the crimson waters. Amidst heaps of elephant corpses, watched by trembling survivors, the forest was tangled with trees whose creepers had been severed by weapons, the way blocked by dense, fearsome barricades. Rivers of blood carried with them clusters of severed elephant trunks and human arms, and in the red current floated white garments and round shields, mingling the remnants of battle with the flow of destruction. Men, their lives abruptly ended, wandered and fell swiftly to the earth, while here and there, headless demons toppled down. The army, shattered by a relentless rain of arrows from above, broke into flight; their voices, weakened and gasping with hiccups, mingled with the sound of gushing blood. Through this dreadful tumult, swords, washed clean by streams of blood spurting from severed veins, pressed onward, their advance accompanied by the wild, pounding dance of tāla, ottāla, vetāla, and tāla drums. Within the wreckage of shattered chariots and scattered logs, warriors sought refuge in the depths of the forest. Even there, the mere presence of the living filled charioteers and their steeds with terror. Some corpses, their mouths clogged with muddy blood, made faint, rattling sounds as if life still lingered; others, with necks barely raised, were watched closely by jackals and crows. The air was filled with the uproar of fierce carnivores fighting over a single piece of flesh, the struggle for that one morsel drawing a swarm of death-hungry beasts. Countless horses, elephants, men, lords, and chariots lay overturned, their throats forming rivers of blood. That field of death, bristling with unsheathed weapons and mountainous heaps of the slain, seemed like the entire world thrown into chaos at the end of an age. As the sun, like a hero wounded in battle, was finally overcome by time and set, its radiance faded forever, its brilliance abandoned in the ocean’s depths. Reflected in the sky’s mirror and colored by the blood of battle, the line of twilight rose, as if the sun’s head had been severed at the close of day. From earth, underworld, sky, and all directions, darkness surged forth like the floodwaters of dissolution, encircling everything like rings of spirits. Yet, as the darkness was pierced, the sun reappeared atop the mountain of day, adorned with the crimson hue of twilight and studded with pearls of stars. In the lifeless, pitch-black gloom, lakes devoid of flavor saw their lotuses shrink, as if mirroring the hearts of the dead. Birds, their wings drooping, quickly fell asleep, necks tucked like tortoises, finding rest in their nests just as causes rest in every limb. Rows of water-lilies, graced by the gentle light of the nearby moon, blossomed with joy, like prosperity arising among the valiant. The lotus pond, its waters red and guarded by evening’s arrows, became a battlefield where the lotuses closed their faces in grief. Above, the sky stretched like a lake adorned with star-lilies, while below, the watery firmament sparkled with lilies and stars. The darkness, having fulfilled its purpose, spread out in every direction, enveloping all beings like water flowing forth. The battlefield itself was crowded with singing ghosts and spirits, echoing with the rattling of bones and the playful cries of crows and vultures. Flames from funeral pyres, built from the wood of chariots, blazed brightly, their sparks flying as the fire was fed by the fat and flesh of the dead, crackling with the sound “paca-paca.” Fragments of bones burst and scattered, heaps of bodies lay strewn about, and ghouls began their watery games, hidden within the play of the cremation ground. The tumult of dogs, crows, yakṣas, and ghosts filled the air, as noisy as a forest teeming with all manner of beings stirred up together. Frenzied ḍākinīs snatched at blood, flesh, fat, and marrow, while piśācas chewed and sucked the oozing remains. In the midst of this assembly, the cremation ground revealed itself, with streams of blood and heaps of corpses. A great corpse, brought by the undertakers, was laid down, a horse left beside it. The dreadful dance of skulls and bones filled the place, bellies gaping, ending in the wailing of jackals and clouds of fat, blood, and tears. A river of flowing blood rushed forth, haunted by spirits of the dead, as crows, agitated, snatched at skeletons, and the place swarmed with ghouls. Within the hollow chests of corpses, young ghouls slept, while in a lonely spot beneath a single tree, a demon lingered, intent on his drinking games. Amid the quarrels of drunken ghosts, the cremation ground blazed, and winds thick with the scent of blood and fat swept through the air. The clatter of coins and dice rang out harshly, as yakṣas, eager for the taste of half-cooked corpses, exulted. Women from Bengal and Kaliṅga, swords in hand, stood before flames that shone like falling stars. In the midst of the revelry of descending ghosts, blood flowed, while bands of yogis sang nearby, their voices heard by the piśācas. Music played, mostly on great stringed instruments, as men possessed by the impulses of piśācas became like piśācīs themselves. Some warriors, never before frightened by ghosts, now stood half-dead with terror, while at times the ground itself seemed to rise up with ghosts and demons. Night-wanderers, terrified by falling corpses thrown from the shoulders of ghosts, crowded into the narrow spaces of the sky, packed with ghostly chests. Dying kings were carried off with great effort, while heaps of Śavaras were scattered, disturbed by yakṣas hungry for good food. Fragments of flames from the mouths of ghosts dispelled the night’s darkness, as if clusters of fresh ashoka flowers were scattered all around. Children with the heads of trunks were bound to the necks of headless bodies, and the sky was filled with yakṣas, rākṣasas, piśācas, ajas, cāḍas, and globular spirits, filling the heavens and earth with their eerie presence.