After leaving the island of Ramanaka, the serpent sought shelter in a tranquil lake. There, he was spared from being devoured by Suparna, for he bore the mark of the Lord’s foot upon him—a sign that inspired fear and reverence in even the mightiest. When Krishna, whose deeds are wondrous and divine, spoke to him, the wives of the serpent responded with joyous and respectful worship. They honored Krishna with celestial garments, fragrant garlands, precious jewels, and ornaments, anointing him with fragrant ointments and offering a splendid garland of lotuses. Having pleased the Lord of the universe, whose banner bears the image of Garuda, they circumambulated Krishna and bowed in reverence. With his wives, friends, and sons, the serpent departed for the island in the ocean. By the grace of Krishna, who played among men, the waters of the Yamuna were cleansed of poison, restoring life and purity to the land. The serpent continued his worship, offering incense, perfumes, and other gifts, chanting the sacred twelve-syllable mantra in devotion. Meanwhile, Sūta narrated another scene: The king arrived at a place where he witnessed a cow and a bull being beaten mercilessly, appearing helpless and vulnerable. The perpetrator was a low-born man wielding a club—a disgrace to royal dignity. The bull, white as a lotus stalk, trembled in fear, shaking and standing weakly on a single leg, suffering from the blows. The cow, once generous with warm milk, was now distressed and emaciated, struck severely, separated from her calf, her face tear-stained and longing for grass. The king, mounted upon his chariot adorned with golden fittings, raised his bow and thundered with a deep, commanding voice, questioning the scene before him: “Who are you, who in my realm unjustly harms the weak? Though you appear as a king, your actions are those of an actor, not a twice-born. You attack the innocent in secret and deserve to be punished, now that Krishna has departed with the bearer of the Gāṇḍīva bow. Or are you, white as a lotus stalk and walking with diminished feet, a deity in the form of a bull, causing us distress?” He continued, “Never, while the earth was embraced by the mighty arms of the Kaurava kings, did grief afflict living beings, except through you. O daughter of Surabhi, do not grieve; let your fear of the low-born vanish. Do not weep, mother; may auspiciousness be yours. I am the punisher of the wicked. In whose kingdom all subjects suffer, both the good and the wicked, that intoxicated ruler loses his fame, lifespan, fortune, and path.” He declared, “The supreme duty of kings is to protect the afflicted and punish their tormentors. Therefore, I shall destroy this most wicked enemy of living beings. Who has cut off your three legs, O daughter of Surabhi, you four-footed one? May such as you never exist in the realm of kings who follow Krishna. Tell me, O bull, who is the cause of the innocent’s disfigurement, the defamer of the sons of Pṛthā. Only when the wicked are subdued can the virtuous thrive. He who commits offenses without restraint, I shall seize his arm directly, even if he is mortal and wears a bracelet. For the king, the highest duty is to uphold dharma and govern according to the scriptures, never deviating even in adversity.” Dharma, taking the form of the bull, replied, “Your speech, O son of Pāṇḍu, is befitting one who grants safety to the afflicted, for whom Lord Krishna was both messenger and leader, drawn by their virtues. We do not possess the seeds of suffering; we are bewildered by divisions in speech and cannot recognize the culprit. Some, wrapped in speculative opinions, claim the self is the cause; others say it is fate, action, or nature. For some, the conclusion is that it is inconceivable and indescribable. O royal sage, discern this according to your own wisdom.” Sūta continued: As Dharma spoke, the emperor addressed him, his mind focused and troubled. The king said, “You speak of dharma, and you are dharma, taking the form of a bull. Wherever adharma is committed, the informer shares in its blame. Or perhaps, indeed, the course of divine illusion is inaccessible to the mind and speech of beings. In the age of virtue, austerity, purity, compassion, and truth were the four legs of dharma; three have been broken by pride, attachment, and intoxication. Now, Dharma, your remaining leg is truth, which you must uphold; but Kali, established by falsehood, seeks to seize it. And this earth, bearing a great burden, was entrusted by the Lord and adorned everywhere by his glorious footprints.” He observed, “That virtuous lady, abandoned and unfortunate, weeps with tearful eyes, lamenting that unworthy kings and shudras disguised as rulers will exploit her.” Having comforted Dharma and the earth, the great charioteer took up his sharp sword, intent on punishing the cause of adharma. As he approached with the intent to kill, the perpetrator abandoned his royal mark, bowed at the king’s feet, and was overwhelmed by fear. The hero, compassionate to the distressed, did not slay the one fallen at his feet, recognizing him as worthy of refuge. Smiling slightly, he spoke, “For you, whose hands are joined in respect, there is no fear from the descendants of Guḍākeśa. Yet you must not remain in my domain, O companion of adharma. As you dwell among men, adharma has arisen: greed, falsehood, theft, impiety, sin, deceit, quarrel, and hypocrisy. You must not remain; you must abide by dharma and truth, especially where the wise worship the Lord of sacrifice through sacred rites. Where Hari, the blessed Lord, is worshipped, he bestows auspiciousness upon the worshippers; like air within and without, he is the soul of all, both moving and unmoving.” Thus, the king restored order, upheld dharma, and honored the presence of the divine, ensuring that justice and righteousness prevailed in his realm.