As Krishna contemplated the state of the world, he resolved, “I shall destroy this force that has amassed as a burden upon the earth—gathered together by the king of Magadha from all the rulers he has subdued.” The armies, vast and formidable, counted in akṣauhiṇīs and filled with soldiers, horses, chariots, and elephants, were to be annihilated. Yet, Krishna determined that the king of Magadha himself would not be slain, for he would once more gather a force. Krishna reflected on the true purpose of his descent: to relieve the earth of its burden, to protect the virtuous, and to destroy those who threatened righteousness. “At times,” he thought, “I assume another body for the protection of dharma, and, when adharma arises, for its cessation.” As Govinda thus meditated, two radiant chariots, shining like the sun, suddenly descended from the sky, complete with skilled drivers and all necessary equipment. By divine providence, ancient and celestial weapons also appeared. Seeing these, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to Saṅkarṣaṇa: “Behold, O noble one, the calamity that has befallen the Yadus. O Lord of those who have descended to earth, here is your chariot, along with your beloved weapons.” He continued, “Truly, for this very purpose have we been born, O Lord, bringer of happiness to the virtuous: to remove the burden of the earth, known as the twenty-three armies.” Having thus conferred, the two sons of Dasharha, resolute and armed for battle since ancient times, set forth, equipped with their weapons and accompanied by a small force. Hari, with Daruka as his charioteer, blew his conch shell as they departed. At its sound, terror and trembling arose in the hearts of the enemy soldiers. When the king of Magadha saw them, he sneered, “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight with you—a mere boy—out of shame; nor with you, who hide behind others, O dullard. Go away, destroyer of kin, I will not fight you. But you, Rama, if you have faith, fight and show your courage; either abandon your body, cut down by my arrows and ascend to heaven, or kill me.” The Blessed Lord replied, “Truly, heroes do not boast; they simply display their valor. We do not heed the words of one who is distressed and facing death, O King.” Then, as Shuka narrated, the son of Jara—Jarasandha—rushed at the two Madhavas, surrounding them with a mighty host of chariots, elephants, horses, and banners, like the wind enveloping the sun and fire with clouds of dust. The women, seeing the two chariots of Hari and Rama, marked with the emblems of Garuda and the palm tree, in the midst of battle, took refuge in the ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, overcome with grief and confusion. As the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy host fell upon his own army—honored by gods and demons—Hari sounded his supreme Sharnga bow with a thunderous twang. Drawing arrows from his quiver, he strung and released volleys of sharp shafts, striking down chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers. The whirling discus never left his hand. Elephants with shattered tusks fell in great numbers; horses, their necks severed by arrows, collapsed; chariots, with their horses, banners, drivers, and leaders slain, and foot soldiers with arms, thighs, and necks cut, lay scattered on the field. As the limbs of elephants, horses, and men were severed, rivers of blood flowed in hundreds, filled with arms, horse heads, human skulls, and turtle-like torsos, crowded with the corpses of the slain. These rivers had waves of arms, hair as waterweeds, bows as currents, and were choked with clusters of weapons. Their terrifying whirlpools were formed by spinning swords, and they sparkled with gems, pearls, ornaments, and stones. In the midst of battle, Sankarshana, of immeasurable brilliance, wielding his mace, struck down the arrogant foes, causing terror among the timid and joy among the brave, as the warriors destroyed each other. That army, vast and dreadful as a sea of fire, guarded by the king of Magadha and seemingly insurmountable, was utterly destroyed by the sons of Vasudeva, whose play is supreme in the world. He whose power, infinite in qualities, brings about the creation, maintenance, and destruction of the three worlds by his own play—there is nothing remarkable in his subduing of enemies; yet, for the sake of mortals, it is described. After Jarasandha’s chariot was destroyed and his army slain, Rama seized him, mighty though he was, just as a lion overpowers another lion by sheer strength. But Govinda stopped him from being bound with human and Varuna’s ropes, wishing to accomplish a certain purpose. Freed by the Lords of the world, Jarasandha, esteemed among heroes, felt ashamed; resolved upon penance, he was blocked on the road by the kings. By words whose meanings were pure, and even with ordinary glances, this defeat came upon him through the Yadus, as a result of his own actions. With all his forces destroyed, the king of the Barhadratha line was disregarded by the Blessed One and departed for Magadha, troubled in mind. Mukunda, his strength unscathed and having crossed the ocean of enemy forces, was showered with flowers and praised by the gods. The people of Mathura, free from distress and joyful in spirit, approached him; his victory was sung by charioteers, bards, and minstrels. Conch shells and drums resounded, many trumpets and horns were played as the Lord entered the city, accompanied by the sweet notes of lyres, flutes, and mridangas. The streets were sprinkled, the people were joyful, adorned with flags, echoing with the sound of Vedic chants, and festooned with decorated gateways. He was honored by women with garlands, yogurt, and sprouting grains, and gazed upon with loving, eager eyes. All the wealth, endless and adorned with the ornaments of heroes, gained in battle, was brought and presented by the Lord to the king of the Yadus. Thus, the king of Magadha, with a force as great as seventeen akshauhinis, fought repeatedly with the Yadus, who were protected by Krishna. The Vṛṣṇis, empowered by Krishna’s brilliance, destroyed all that force; when his own troops were slain, the king was abandoned by his allies and departed. In the eighteenth battle, which was about to occur, a hero sent by Narada—the Yavana—appeared in the midst. This foreigner besieged Mathura with three million barbarian troops; in the world of men, he was unmatched, having heard of the Vṛṣṇis, his equals. Seeing him, Krishna, accompanied by Sankarshana, thought, “Alas, a great calamity has come upon the Yadus from both sides. This Yavana, immensely powerful, is besieging us today; the king of Magadha will arrive either today, tomorrow, or the day after.