Lila, filled with devotion and longing, prayed: “After abandoning my body in battle, wherever my husband abides, may I, with this very body, be present there as his wife.” Her wish was heard, and the goddess responded warmly, “So be it; you have long worshipped me without obstacle, O daughter, with single-minded devotion, offering flowers, incense, and service, O Devi.” As Lila’s heartfelt desire blossomed in that sacred place, inspired by the boon she received, the former Lila, her mind unsettled by doubt, turned to the goddess and spoke: “Those whose desires are true, whose resolve is solely truth, who are of the nature of Brahman—such as you—whatever they wish for, all is quickly accomplished for them. Why, with that very body, O Lady of noble complexion, have I not taken him to this other world, or to that mountain village?” The goddess replied gently, “I do nothing at all for anyone, O beautiful one; the living being himself swiftly accomplishes all that he intends. For I am pure awareness, the presiding deity of consciousness alone; in each being, I am the power of consciousness, the very essence of the living force. The power of ‘I’ arises in each living being in its own way; as it appears, so it always bestows its corresponding result. When the power of the living being thus awakened quickly worships me, then, when the body is gone, it long remains liberated, thinking, ‘I am free.’” She continued, “In this and that manner, I have awakened you, O Lady of radiant complexion; by that pure reasoning, you have been led to a stainless state. When, for a long time, I have been awakened by this very contemplation, then, by the power of one’s own awareness, one attains that very goal. For whomever, in whatever way, their own effort in awareness arises for a long time, in due course, it yields fruit for each accordingly. Whether it is austerity or a deity, it is only the imperishable consciousness that, becoming such, freely grants its fruit, just as the sky lets its fruit fall. Apart from the illumination of one’s own awareness, nothing else ever produces a result; therefore, act as you wish, for the fruit comes swiftly in that way. Is it not true that the state of consciousness alone, which is the inner self present everywhere, thinks and strives, and attains what it seeks, and its prosperity? Considering whether something is delightful or not, therefore, recognize what is pure and abide within it.” Meanwhile, a question arose: while Lila and the goddess conversed in that house, what had Viduratha done after leaving in anger? Viduratha, departing from his residence, was surrounded by a great retinue, shining like the moon encircled by a host of stars. Fully armored, adorned with necklaces and ornaments, he went forth amid loud cries of victory, resembling Indra, king of the gods. Commanding the ranks of his warriors, listening to the arrangement of their formations, and observing the unfolding heroic battles, the king ascended his chariot. The chariot, splendid as a mansion of spirits, was decorated with pearls and rubies, covered with clusters of banners, appearing like a celestial vehicle. Golden shoots fell from streams along its moonlit walls, and beautiful coral branches were adorned with the jingling sound of pearls. The chariot was drawn by fine, white, slender horses of auspicious marks—excellent and swift—whose speed caused their hooves to pour forth as if in a rush. Their natural gaits could not be matched even by the wind, as if casting off their hind parts and drinking in the sky. Eight horses, shining like eight full moons, yoked together with yak-tail whisks, their neighing seemed to fill all directions. Suddenly, the intense sound of drums arose, as loud as thunderclouds, echoing harshly against the mountain walls. The air was filled with tumultuous cries of intoxicated soldiers, the jingling of rows of bells, and the clashing of weapons. The crackling sounds of bows, the whistling songs of arrows, and the rattling of armor filled the space. The crackling of blazing fire, the cries of the distressed, the mutual shouts of warriors, and the agitated wailing of bards added to the cacophony. The dreadful sound swelled, filling the hollow of the universe as if carved from stone, encompassing all ten directions. A mass of dust blocked the path of the sun, its darkness lifting the earth’s surface toward the sky. The great city became as if enclosed in a womb; darkness grew dense, like ignorance swelling in youth. Somewhere, clusters of lamps faded away, like stars vanishing by day, and restless hosts of night-beings gathered their strength. The two maidens, Lila and her companion, witnessed this great battle, their hearts trembling, their vision vast as bestowed by the goddess. In the houses, the clamor of weapons arose, resounding like fires in a single ocean overflowing with water. Drawing the enemy army with arrows, the king, propelled by his wings, entered the opposing force like Mount Meru entering a single ocean. The distinct sound of qualities crackled sharply, as rows of arrows, fashioned like clouds, formed a ship. Various weapons, like birds of many kinds, took to the sky; in all directions, mists shone with the brilliance of weapons. Weapons, blazing from their clashes like torches of fire, whirled about; the clouds of warriors thundered, pouring down streams of arrows. Cruel missiles, like vultures, darted at the bodies of heroes; some fell with crackling sounds, crushed by weapons in the sky. The darkness quickly vanished, dispelled by the shining flames of weapons; the entire army appeared as if covered with the fine hair of new women. Thus, amidst the tumult of battle and the revelation of consciousness, the story unfolded, echoing the profound interplay of devotion, destiny, and the awakening of the self.