Upon the slopes of noble mountains, turmoil erupted as the clash of mighty weapons shook the golden peaks. The mountains themselves seemed to tremble in confusion and fear, their grandeur battered by blows as forceful as their own rocky mass. From this ferocious combat, loose sparks of fire burst forth, born from the weapons colliding—these sparks scattered across the sky like stars shattering at the end of an age. On the riverbanks, now awash with waves of blood and flesh, tall and slender spirits—resembling palm trees at the world’s end—gathered and sang in eerie chorus. Overhead, the sky was veiled in clouds stilled by showers of blood and dust, while the shattered tips of crowns and earrings, struck by weapons, flashed intermittently like distant lightning. The very directions became impenetrable, for the mountain-king himself was shattered by the blows of demons whose arms were like wish-fulfilling trees and whose forms blazed with the brilliance of the sun. Mountains split open by the strikes of blazing swords seemed reduced to mere heaps of fragments, as if consumed by the fires of cosmic dissolution. Amidst the chaos, the gods gathered their radiance, their brilliance kindled as though by the sacred fire of a horse sacrifice. With this newfound vigor, they pursued the demons relentlessly, like winds driving away dark storm clouds. Overpowering their foes, the gods seized the demons as wildcats snatch decrepit rats, and together—gods and demons—shone in the sky like blossoming forests swaying atop mountain peaks. The ten directions filled with volleys of weapons, just as the winds fill the forests of Mount Meru with masses of flowers. A terrible battle arose between the armies of gods and demons, resembling swarms of giant mosquitoes battling in the hollows of fig trees. The guardians of the worlds raised their lofty standards, and a dreadful roar of battle surged forth, filling the sky like the thunderclouds at the end of an age. In the heavens, a massive, dense cloud appeared, as if seizing a portion of the earth itself—swollen like the belly of a mountain churned by mighty fists. The clash of weapons and the crushing of mountains at the first assault resounded with a harsh, dreadful roar, as if wrung from hearts shattered and emptied of life. This tumult swelled like thunderclouds at doomsday, expanding across the sky and shining like molten gold struck by the rays of twelve suns together. From the collision with the very walls of the universe, this force recoiled and fell to earth—like a mighty flood breaking through a dam and surging into a mine. The uproar echoed with the force of winds battering winged mountains, reverberating through the shattered caves of those hard, overflowing peaks. It was as if the world itself was being churned, like the milk ocean by Mount Mandara, shaking the islands and their creatures, all resounding with booming and crashing. Between the two enraged armies, a furious and demonic battle erupted, crushing cities, villages, mountains, forests, and men. The directions were filled with mountains and demons, all cut down by hundreds of great weapons. The sky grew thick with dust from shattered weapons and rocks, broken by the mutual blows of the combatants. The clash of missile-circles shattered hundreds of Meru’s peaks, while the wind of arrows swept away demons, gods, asuras, and even lotuses. The sky itself was veiled by the swirling dust of countless chariot wheels, the trampled grass of gods and demons, and the surging waves of advancing armies. Hosts of celestial beings fell, crushed by weapons and mountains, while torrents of ocean water—brought forth by mighty elephants—flooded the heavens. Hundreds of rivers formed from swords, spears, and missiles, carrying away the domes of the universe, shattered and scattered by the wings of mountain peaks. The cities of the lords of the world fell under the repeated blows of demon heels, and golden palaces echoed with the tumultuous cries of women. The demon hosts, tossed about by the waves of the maddened ocean and mountains, rolled helplessly on the ground, while the sky was washed clean by streams of blood and resounded with their agonized cries. The world, covered and concealed by the waters of many oceans and filled with noble ones, was once again seen teeming with armies, illuminated by the radiance of gods and demons. The scene became ever more terrifying and dreadful, with demon-mountains shaped like winged peaks coming and going, filling the air with the crackling sounds of destruction. Earth, ocean, and mountains were reddened everywhere by streams of blood flowing from the wounded demon-mountains, whose peaks were split by weapons and rocks. All around were ruined kingdoms, cities, forests, villages, and mountain caves, filled with countless demons, elephants, horses, humans, chariots, and mountains. Celestial maidens and demons traversed its paths, while its mountains were shattered by torrents from clouds as dense as those of the cosmic age. Elephants were battered by blows of fists, mountain ranges were crushed and scattered by the impact of great meteors, and demons were scorched by blazing nets of angry fire. The fire, drawn forth by a single handful, surged up like the ocean. The vast waters were frozen by the coolness of the moon, while heaps of stones melted under the flames of forest fires. The night of cosmic dissolution was filled with impenetrable darkness created by weapons, and its thin veil of gloom was consumed by the radiance of the sun of illusion. Cosmic rains of fire fell from the illusory sky, and storms were stirred by the clash of fire, wind, and weapons. Showers from the mountains were swept away by storms of thunderbolts, and the battles were enriched with weapons of sleep, awakening, and rain, along with those of planetary influence. The weapon of the saw, the weapon for felling trees, the weapons of water and fire, and the fierce weapon of Brahma—all these were subdued by the brilliance of the weapon of light. The sky was entirely filled with armies of weapons launched by missiles, adorned with showers of stones and illuminated by the radiance of weapons that rained fire. Banners brushed by moonlight fluttered amidst the roar of whirling discs, while chariots, in a single moment, crossed the mountains of sunrise and sunset. The great demons, struck incessantly by thunderbolts, were dying—yet, from the mighty spells of Shukra and the gods, other demons arose, ready to continue the cosmic battle.