Śuka continued: The son of Jarā, Jarāsandha, surged forward against the two Madhavas—Krishna and Balarāma—surrounding them with an immense and formidable army. Chariots rolled in, elephants trumpeted, horses thundered, and banners fluttered, the whole host enveloping the two brothers like a mighty wind swirling dust to cover the sun and fire. In the midst of this raging battle, the women of the city, catching sight of the two divine chariots—Hari’s, marked with Garuda, and Rāma’s, adorned with the palm tree—became overwhelmed by fear and sorrow. They fled to the ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, seeking shelter, their hearts gripped by confusion and grief. Witnessing his own army, honored by gods and demons alike, being harried again and again by the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy, Krishna, the Lord, sounded his supreme Sharnga bow. The thunderous twang echoed across the field, striking terror into the hearts of the adversaries. Drawing arrow after arrow from his quiver, Krishna strung and released sharp shafts in rapid succession. Chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers fell before him, while his whirling discus never left his hand, ready to strike at will. The battlefield became a scene of devastation. Elephants with shattered tusks collapsed in great numbers; horses, their necks severed by arrows, fell lifeless; chariots, along with their horses, banners, drivers, and commanders, were destroyed; foot soldiers lay scattered, their arms, thighs, and necks cut asunder. From the severed limbs of elephants, horses, and men, rivers of blood flowed in hundreds, carrying with them arms, horse heads, human skulls, and turtle-like torsos, all mingled with the bodies of slain warriors and beasts. These gruesome rivers had waves made of arms, hair floating like waterweeds, bows forming currents, and clusters of weapons choking their flow. Spinning swords created terrifying whirlpools, and the waters sparkled with gems, pearls, ornaments, and stones from the fallen. Amid this chaos, Sankarshana—Balarāma—of immeasurable brilliance, wielded his mighty mace. He struck down the arrogant enemies, filling the timid with terror and the brave with joy, as warriors on both sides continued to destroy each other. The army of Jarāsandha, 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. Indeed, he whose infinite power brings about the creation, maintenance, and destruction of the three worlds by his own sport—what wonder is it that he should subdue mere earthly enemies? Yet, for the sake of mortals, these deeds are described. When Jarāsandha’s chariot was shattered and his army annihilated, mighty though he was, Balarāma seized him as a lion would overpower another lion, subduing him by sheer strength. But Krishna, Govinda, stopped Balarāma from binding Jarāsandha with either human or Varuna’s ropes, for he had a certain purpose to fulfill. Freed by the Lords of the world, Jarāsandha—esteemed among heroes—felt deep shame. Resolved to undertake penance, he was blocked on the road by the assembled kings. By words of pure meaning and even by mere glances, this defeat had come upon him through the Yadus, as a result of his own deeds. With all his forces destroyed, the king of the Barhadratha line was disregarded by the Blessed One and departed for Magadha, his mind troubled and heavy. Mukunda, Krishna, his strength undiminished and having crossed the ocean of enemy forces, was showered with flowers and praised by the gods. The people of Mathurā, now free from distress and filled with joy, approached him. His victory was celebrated in song by charioteers, bards, and minstrels. Conch shells and drums resounded, trumpets and horns were played, and as the Lord entered the city, lyres, flutes, and mridangas accompanied his procession. The streets were freshly sprinkled, the people rejoiced, flags adorned every corner, Vedic chants echoed in the air, and decorated gateways festooned the city. Women honored Krishna with garlands, yogurt, and sprouting grains, gazing upon him with eyes full of love and eager devotion. All the wealth won in battle, endless and adorned with the ornaments of heroes, was gathered and presented by Krishna to the king of the Yadus. Thus, the king of Magadha, with a force as vast as seventeen akshauhinis, fought again and again with the Yadus, who were protected by Krishna. The Vṛṣṇis, empowered by Krishna’s brilliance, destroyed all that might. When his own troops were slain, Jarāsandha was abandoned by his allies and retreated. But as the eighteenth battle was about to begin, a hero sent by Nārada—the mighty Yavana—appeared in their midst. This foreigner besieged Mathurā with three million barbarian troops. In the realm of men, none could match him, and having heard of the Vṛṣṇis, he had come seeking his equals. Seeing this new threat, Krishna, accompanied by Sankarshana, thought, “Alas! A great calamity has come upon the Yadus from both sides.” He reflected, “This Yavana, immensely powerful, besieges us today; and the king of Magadha will arrive either today, tomorrow, or the day after. If Jarāsandha comes while we are engaged in battle, he may kill our kinsmen or, being strong, carry them off to his own city.” Therefore, Krishna decided, “Today we shall build a fortress, difficult for men to approach. There, after settling our kinsmen, we will destroy the Yavana.” Having thus deliberated, the Blessed Lord created a wondrous fortress city within the sea, twelve yojanas wide. The skill of Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine architect, was evident in its construction: streets, crossroads, and avenues were laid out according to the highest principles of architecture. The city was adorned with celestial trees and gardens, marvelous groves, and golden towers reaching the sky, with crystal mansions and splendid gateways. Silver and gold turrets gleamed, treasuries decorated with golden jars, houses crowned with jewels, and vast emerald platforms completed the splendor. It was built with the houses of the guardians of the quarters and the residences of beloved women, filled with people of all four varṇas, and shone with the homes of the Yadu gods. Sudharmā, the divine assembly hall, and the Pārijāta tree were sent there by Indra, and in that place, even mortals were freed from mortal limitations. Varuṇa gifted dark-colored horses, swift as thought, yet white in hue. The lord of treasures bestowed eight treasuries. The guardians of the worlds presented all their own opulences. Whatever lordship the Blessed Lord had originally granted to these beings for their own perfection, all of it they now returned to Hari as he descended to earth. By his power of yoga, Hari brought all the people to this new city, and after consulting with Rāma, the protector of the people, Krishna left the city gate, garlanded with lotuses and unarmed. Śuka said: As he emerged, Krishna shone like the rising moon, most beautiful to behold, dark in complexion, clad in yellow silk. On his chest gleamed the Śrīvatsa mark, and at his throat the radiant Kaustubha gem. He was broad, tall, four-armed, with eyes like fresh red lotuses, the very embodiment of divine majesty.