At a time when unrighteousness threatened to overwhelm the world, Govinda, contemplating the purpose of his descent, reflected: “I assume another body for the protection of dharma, and when adharma arises at certain times, I come to end it.” As he pondered thus, two radiant chariots, shining like the sun and complete with drivers and all their equipment, suddenly appeared from the sky. Along with them, ancient and divine weapons manifested by chance. Witnessing this, Hṛṣīkeśa turned to Saṅkarṣaṇa and said, “Behold, O noble one, the calamity that has come upon the Yadus. O Lord of those descended to earth, here is your chariot, together with your beloved weapons.” He continued, “Indeed, 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 consulted, the two sons of Dasharha, resolute and armed as of old, set out for battle, equipped with their weapons and accompanied by a small force. Hari, with Daruka as his charioteer, sounded his mighty conch as they departed, and terror and trembling arose in the hearts of their enemies. When the king of Magadha saw them, he mocked Krishna, saying, “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight you—a mere boy—out of shame; nor will I fight 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, Shuka narrated, the son of Jara—Jarasandha—rushed upon 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 thick of battle, fled for refuge into ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, overcome with grief and confusion. Hari, seeing his own army—honored by gods and demons—repeatedly afflicted by the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy host, sounded his supreme Sharnga bow, its thunderous twang echoing across the field. Drawing arrows from his quiver, Krishna strung and released volleys of sharp shafts, striking down chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers, while his 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 across the battlefield. 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 slain elephants, horses, and warriors. These rivers had waves of arms, hair as waterweeds, bows as currents, and were choked with clusters of weapons; terrifying whirlpools formed by spinning swords sparkled with gems, pearls, ornaments, and stones. In the midst of this carnage, Sankarshana, of immeasurable brilliance, wielding his mace, struck down 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—what wonder is it that he subdues enemies? Yet, for the sake of mortals, these deeds are described. After his chariot was destroyed and his army slain, Rama seized Jarasandha, mighty though he was, just as a lion seizes another lion, overpowering him by sheer strength. But Govinda stopped him from being bound with human and Varuna’s ropes, having already slain his enemies, for a certain purpose was yet to be fulfilled. Freed by the Lords of the world, Jarasandha, esteemed among heroes, felt ashamed; resolved upon penance, he found his path blocked by the assembled kings. Through words whose meanings were pure, and even through ordinary glances, this defeat came upon him at the hands of 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 lyres, flutes, and mridangas. The streets were sprinkled, the people 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, as it was about to take place, 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. If Jarasandha comes while we are engaged in battle, he will either kill our kinsmen or, being strong, carry them off to his own city. Therefore, today we shall build a fortress, difficult for men to approach; there, after settling our kinsmen, we will destroy the Yavana.” Thus, after due deliberation, the Blessed Lord created a fortress twelve yojanas wide—a wondrous city within the sea.