Fierce forest-demons surged from every direction, their wrath rising like great oceans churned by the thunderous roar of underworld elephants. Smoke billowed from their tawny, upraised matted hair, crackling and snapping loudly as fires licked at them with fierce tongues, as if fed by moist fuel. These demons circled through the sky, making dreadful, drum-like sounds, vast and blazing like meteors trailing immense plumes of smoke. Their bodies, faces shaped like lotuses but seized by sprouting fangs, rose up like tangled locks of hair fiercely aflame, bursting forth from every pore. Devouring and rushing, roaring with threatening intent, they resembled storm clouds ignited by flashes of lightning from their tangled hair. At that very moment, Viduratha, the lord of play, released the Narayana weapon, renowned for warding off evil spirits. As this supreme weapon was unleashed, the hosts of demons vanished instantly, just as darkness disappears at sunrise. The demon army was swept away, and clarity returned to the three worlds, like the sky shining pure after the clouds of autumn have departed. Then Sindhu released the fiery weapon, which blazed across the sky, burning the quarters of the heavens as if consumed by the fire of dissolution. All directions became shrouded in masses of smoke and clouds, as though the sky and netherworld were cloaked in thick darkness. The mountains shone with blazing forms, appearing golden, like gardens bursting with flowers and clusters of champaka trees. The groves of sky, mountain, and direction became tangled masses of flame, as if blood had been spilled in the festival of death, mingled with saffron. People, fearing even the touch of nearby light, burned as if the oceans themselves were twisted by the thousand-formed ones’ flute. Just as one strikes again after defeating an enemy, Viduratha, having worshipped Varuna, released his water weapon. Floods of water approached from all sides, like masses of darkness; mountains flowed downward and upward from the directions, as if they had become liquid. These waters resembled fragments of the autumn sky, swiftly falling clouds, great oceans standing high, or the rocks of mountain ranges. They rose like masses of tamala trees, gathered like nights, stirred up like heaps of soot, or like the boundary of Lokāloka. The waters wound like the caves of the netherworld, eager to see the sky, their forms echoing with the roaring noise of great thunder. The mass of water, like a creeper amidst a blaze of heat, swiftly pervaded the worlds at twilight, just as night follows day. Absorbing the fiery mass, the water filled the earth; the ever-flowing body of water, having lost its liquidity, became manifest. Thus, these mutually opposed weapons of illusion—crafted of maya—appeared and confronted each other, experienced as clashing powers. The burden of weapons and the protection of the chariot-wheels were swept away by the water like blades of grass, and her chariot floated. At that moment, Sindhu remembered the weapon of drying up, which brings rescue from calamity, and invoked it in the form of an arrow. By that radiant weapon, the watery illusion ceased just as night ends; those who had died remained dead, and the earth was dried up. Then, with foolish anger, an equal heat arose, tormenting the people, spreading harshly like an old, withered forest. The directions shone with the luster of beautiful limbs, dripping with molten gold, as if adorned by the limbs and ornaments of royal women. Because of this, those opposed to it fell into a stupor of heat, like tender leaves scorched by the summer forest fire. Viduratha, his mind resounding with the long, ringing twang of the bowstring, bent his bow into a circle and invoked the rain-cloud weapon. Rows of clouds rose up, gathered like nights amassed together, sluggish in their onset, stirred by the agitation of the tamala groves. The clouds moved about, full of water, roaring tumultuously; their circular forms encircled all directions, heavy with the remnants of mist. Winds blew, swirling with showers, breaking through the grandeur of the clouds, noble in their coolness, adorned with garlands of scattered spray. Lightning flashed, sudden and brilliant, like frightened golden serpents or the glances of demon women cast upward into the sky. The mountains shook, echoing with thunder, like herds of elephants, lions, and bears roaring through the forests in every direction. Torrential rains fell in great streams, harsh as the gaze of Death, crashing like the striking of hard iron. At first, a hot, mountain-like vapor arose from the earth; as if clouds from the netherworld were stirred up for battle, the clouds whirled in confusion. Then, in the blink of an eye, all mirages faded away, just as worldly desires vanish when filled with the nectar of supreme knowledge. The entire earth became covered in mud, unmoving, filled with streams pouring forth like an ocean overflowing with water. Viduratha then released the wind weapon, which whirled through the expanse of the sky, dreadful and terrifying, like the dance of destruction at the end of an age. Fierce winds blew, their bodies struck by falling thunderbolts; shattered fragments of rocks flew in the mountain caves. Gusts marked by signs of doom battered the warriors, leaving them grim and scarred. The winds twisted the mist and scattered dense foliage, shaking masses of trees, violently uprooting and hurling them down, as the battle of elements raged on.