Those who were masters in the arts of war, having shattered the mighty walls of the greatest mountains, unleashed everywhere a shower of flowers, as if the branches of the quarters themselves were blossoming. Amidst this splendor, gods and demons, stirred by the tumult of battle, wielded their weapons in confusion, striking at one another with bodies ablaze from Indra's thunder. Seated upon vast thrones, they wandered the sky, scattering streams of blood. At that time, the belly of the world was filled with severed heads, hands, arms, and thighs, whirling ominously like locusts in the sky. Dense clouds, fierce as mountains, blocked the sun and the mountain ranges at the edges of the quarters. The entire universe became dreadful, as if at the end of time—wild fire raged, waters were agitated, winds and the sun tore through forests, hosts of gods and demons were destroyed, though the walls and corners of the cosmic egg remained unbroken. Turmoil reigned, the directions thrown into confusion by mountain peaks struck and scattered by heavy weapons. The resounding cries echoed like fierce herds of cave-dwelling beasts, mingled with the roars of lions as clouds crashed down. The sky was filled with rivers and oceans of illusion, clouds of fire and smoke, trees, corpses of gods and demons, mountains, and showers of rocks. Heads, arrows, spears, maces, missiles, and weapons were scattered like leaves blown through the forest by the wind. Blows from hands, as irresistible as the coming and going of mountains' wings, sent torrents of water—full as the ocean—rushing forth, released from ruined cities of the gods by the fall of warriors' bodies like mountains. The sky thundered with deep, rumbling roars; blood washed the spaces between the mountains; the world-cave itself became agitated, swirling like a pool of blood in the currents of battle. This tumult, crowded with gods and demons and spreading endlessly in all directions, brought both pleasure and pain, creation and destruction, and truly became like the cycle of worldly existence itself. Then, through illusion and dispute, alliance and conflict, flight and steadfastness, and cunning stratagems, the war was waged. Self-pity, weapon-battles, repeated disappearances—all these means were employed as the war with the gods raged for thirty-five years. Years, days, months—ten, eight, five, and seven—passed away for the trees, fires, weapons, waters, food, and mountains. In that time, through persistent practice, the bonds and others, their minds consumed, firmly assumed the conviction of 'I am'—the sense of ego. Just as a mirror, through excessive nearness, appears as if it were the reflected image itself, so too, through the intensity of repeated practice, they attained the state of egoity. Just as a distant object does not appear reflected in a mirror, so too, without repeated practice, the impression of an object does not arise in the mind. When bonds and attachments arose, and the tendency toward ego-identity was born, the thought came: 'My life, my possessions.' Thus, misery entered. Seized by the tendency toward fear, struck down by delusion, and bound by the cords of hope, they fell into wretchedness. Indeed, the notion of 'mine' is imagined by those without ego, just as the idea of a snake is superimposed upon a rope, due to the marks left by the cord-snake. “Let this body, from head to foot, remain firm”—such was the pitiable craving of those who thought ‘mine,’ and thus they fell into dejection. “Let my body be steady, let my wealth be for my happiness”—such thoughts bound the mind, and for them, courage disappeared. Because bodies lacked deep impressions and the enemies of the gods lacked stability, their inclination toward violence was quickly wiped away, as if swept clean. Thinking, “How can we remain secure in this world?” they were struck with anxiety and fell into dejection, like lotuses without water. Among them, those attached to their own sense of self found pleasure in food and drink, remaining in a state of worldly existence, fierce and bound to the cycle of birth. Then, in that battle, out of fear, they became dependent, like deer in the forest surrounded by a herd of intoxicated elephants. Stricken by the thought, “We will die, we will die,” their hopes wounded, they wandered slowly and sluggishly in the battle, as if under the wrath of Airavata. For those who desired only bodily existence and were fearful, death placed a calamity-bringing step upon their heads due to their weakness. Then their strength faded; they could not kill the foremost warrior, just as fires with depleted fuel cannot burn the offering. While the gods struck, they became incapable of fighting. The warriors, wounded and battered in every limb, stood as if ordinary. What need is there for many words? The demons, their minds terrified by death, fled from the battlefield as the gods advanced. As all of them fled, they ran in every direction among the mountains of the demons, into the renowned abodes of the asuras called Dama and Vyala. That army of demons scattered, falling like a net of stars blown by the wind at the end of an age. In the mountain valleys of the gods, upon the peaks and rocks, on the shores of the oceans, and on the layers of clouds; in the whirlpools of the sea, in chasms and rivers, in deserts, at the ends of the directions, and in burning forests; in the emptied treasuries of battlefields, in villages and cities, in forests haunted by fierce yakṣas, and in deserts where wildfires raged; at the edge of the Lokāloka mountain, on mountains and in lakes, and in the cities of Andhra, Drāmiḍa, Kashmir, and Persia; among the waves of various oceans, in the water-pots of the Ganges, on distant islands, and in the groves of Jambū trees—everywhere, those enemies of the gods fell, mountain-like, with shattered limbs and feet, broken arms and hands. Entrails tangled in branches, streams of blood flowing freely, bodies and heads scattered, eyes glaring in wrath as life departed. Their armor was shattered by the force of their own weapons; their garments, torn and scattered, fell in various ways from afar. With helmets clinging to their throats, the harsh clatter instilled terror; fragments of their bodies hung pierced by sharp rocks. Thus unfolded the dreadful battle, its echoes resounding through the universe, marking both the destruction and renewal of cosmic order.