He struck down his foes with the ferocity of Indra hurling thunderbolts, felling mighty mountains in a storm. Whirling his mace with astonishing speed, he brought it crashing down upon his enemies, scattering them in all directions. With tremendous force, he reduced both chariot and warrior to nothing but ashes. His blows, hard as thunderbolts, felled the opposition, O sage, leaving devastation in their wake. Relentless in his assault, he plundered the Daityas, striking them and their mounts down without mercy. The Danavas, wild with the fury of battle, fell before him as he tore through their ranks. In the chaos, the buffalo-demon and Tāraka, leader of the hosts, turned and fled. Yet the forces of darkness, enraged, surrounded him on all sides and pressed their attack. Ṣoṭaśākṣa brandished his trident, while Śataśīrṣa wielded an excellent sword. Bandhudatta hurled his spear, striking a Daitya on the head. But the demon, though struck, did not tremble—he stood as firm as the mountain Maināka. It was only when Ekacūḍā, wielding supreme weapons, attacked that he was finally slain and torn apart. The two mighty warriors, undaunted, shook the very hosts with their valor and did not waver. Having vanquished his foe, one of them rushed forward, weapons at the ready, to confront Kumāra. Raising his discus in anger, Kumāra blocked the oncoming son of Danu. Then, O Brahman, the two engaged each other in a marvelous and skillful duel, swift as lightning. Sukakrākṣa released his own discus at the Asura, but at that moment, the Daityas cried out in despair, “Alas! The buffalo-demon is slain!” Raktākṣa, summoning all his strength, struck down the discus with a hundred clenched fists. Yet, despite his power, he was rendered motionless by a single effortless arrow. Witnessing this, mighty Makarākṣa, mace in hand, fled the battlefield. Though high-minded, he was filled with shame as he abandoned the fight. Even Bāṇa, struck by the Makara-eyed one, turned his back and ran. The demon, sword raised, fled from the lords of the Gaṇas. The other demons, now defeated and terrified, sought refuge with Skanda. But when Skanda saw one among them, he pierced the demon’s heart with his spear. The demon’s vital parts shattered, and he fell to the earth. Abandoning the battlefield, the wicked one fled to the mountain called Dimācala. Out of fear, he entered a dreadful cave, a formidable stronghold, as the Gaṇas continued to slay the guilty in battle. Mounting his peacock, its crest of feathers resplendent, Skanda set out to slay Mahiṣāsura. Leaving Kailāsa behind, he journeyed to Himācala and then to Krauñca, finally entering the cave. There he stood, reflecting deeply: “How shall I become the slayer of my own kin?” As he pondered, others approached and urged him, “Strike Mahiṣa and the mountain with your spear; fulfill the purpose of the gods.” But Skanda hesitated, thinking, “How can a mother’s grandson, a nephew, a brother, or a brother’s son be slain?” Yet he remembered: by following the will of the supreme mother, even the most sinful can attain heaven. He reminded himself that even those who have committed offenses must not be slain, especially revered teachers and elders. Resolving, he said, “When the demon comes out from the cave, then I will slay the enemy with my spear.” To those urging him, he replied, “You are not wiser than I; why do you speak so? Listen to the words once spoken by Hari.” He recalled, “Namuci, my own younger brother, was slain before.” Then, encouraged, he was urged, “Strike him down with the spear given by Pāvaka—show your valor!” Trembling, the youth spoke these words to Śatakratu, his heart filled with both fear and resolve.