The vast and terrible army of Magadha, as fierce as a sea of fire and guarded by its king, seemed impossible to overcome. Yet, the sons of Vasudeva, whose play is supreme among all beings, utterly destroyed it. For the one whose infinite power creates, sustains, and dissolves the three worlds by his own sport, the subduing of enemies is not remarkable—still, for the sake of mortals, such deeds are told. After the defeat, Balarama seized the mighty Jarasandha, who stood alone after his chariot was wrecked and his army slain, just as a lion overpowers another lion by sheer strength. But Krishna, Govinda, stopped Jarasandha from being bound with ropes, whether human or those of Varuna, for he had a purpose to fulfill. Released by the Lords of the world, Jarasandha, honored among warriors, felt deep shame. He resolved to perform penance, but his way was blocked by the assembled kings. His defeat had come upon him at the hands of the Yadus, not through weapons but through words of pure meaning and even ordinary glances—truly, the result of his own actions. With his entire force destroyed, the king of the Barhadratha line was disregarded by the Blessed One and departed for Magadha, his mind troubled. Meanwhile, Mukunda—Krishna—emerged from the ocean of enemy forces, his strength untouched. The gods showered him with flowers and sang his praises. The people of Mathura, now free from fear and filled with joy, came forth to greet him. Charioteers, bards, and minstrels sang of his victory. Conch shells and drums resounded, trumpets and horns blared, and the Lord entered the city accompanied by lyres, flutes, and mridangas. The streets were freshly sprinkled, the people rejoiced, flags fluttered everywhere, the air echoed with Vedic chants, and decorated gateways festooned the city. Women honored Krishna with garlands, yogurt, and sprouting grains, gazing at him with loving, eager eyes. All the wealth won in battle, endless and adorned with the ornaments of heroes, was brought and presented by the Lord to the king of the Yadus. Thus, again and again, the king of Magadha, with a force as great as seventeen akshauhinis, fought the Yadus, who were protected by Krishna. The Vṛṣṇis, empowered by Krishna’s brilliance, destroyed all that force. When his own troops were slain, Jarasandha was abandoned by his allies and returned to his land. As an eighteenth battle loomed, a new threat appeared—a mighty hero sent by Narada, the Yavana, arrived in the midst of the conflict. This foreigner besieged Mathura with three million barbarian troops. In the world of men, he was unmatched, having heard of the valor of the Vṛṣṇis, his equals. Seeing this, Krishna, with Sankarshana at his side, reflected, “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 soon after. If Jarasandha comes while we are engaged in battle, he may destroy our kinsmen or carry them off to his own city. Therefore, today we must build a fortress, difficult for men to approach. There, after settling our people, we will destroy the Yavana.” Thus resolved, the Blessed Lord created, by his power, a wondrous fortress city within the sea, twelve yojanas wide. The skill of Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine architect, could be seen in its expertly laid streets, crossroads, and avenues, all built according to proper principles. The city was adorned with celestial trees and gardens, marvelous groves, and golden towers reaching to the sky, with crystal mansions and gateways. Silver and gold turrets gleamed, treasuries were decorated with golden jars, houses were crowned with jewels, and great emerald platforms shone. The city included the houses of the guardians of the quarters and the residences of beloved women. It was filled with people of all four varṇas and shone with the homes of the Yadu gods. Indra sent Sudharmā, the divine assembly hall, and the Pārijāta tree to this city, where even mortals residing there were freed from mortal limitations. Varuṇa gave swift, mind-like horses, white in hue; the lord of treasures gave eight treasuries; and the guardians of the worlds offered all their opulences. Whatever lordship had been granted by the Blessed Lord for their own perfection, all the gods now returned to Hari as he descended to earth. By his yogic power, Krishna brought all his people to this new city. After consulting with Balarama, the protector of the people, Krishna left the city gate, garlanded with lotuses and unarmed. At this moment, Śuka said: As Krishna emerged, he shone like the rising moon, most beautiful to behold, his complexion dark, his garments yellow. The Śrīvatsa mark adorned his chest, the Kaustubha gem gleamed at his throat; he was broad and tall, four-armed, with eyes like fresh red lotuses. Ever joyful, glorious, with rounded cheeks and a pure smile, his lotus-like face was framed by brilliant makara-shaped earrings. “This is indeed Vāsudeva,” thought those who saw him, “marked by the Śrīvatsa, four-armed, lotus-eyed, adorned with a forest garland, supremely beautiful.” By the signs Nārada had described, none but he could be so. Seeing Krishna unarmed and on foot, the Yavana resolved, “I shall fight him unarmed.” Thus determined, the Yavana, eager to seize Krishna, pursued him as he fled—though Krishna is unattainable even to yogis. As if he could grasp himself with his own hand, the lord of the Yavanas was led step by step by Hari, who always appeared just out of reach, into a mountain cave. The Yavana taunted as he followed, “Flight does not befit one born in the Yadu line, such as you!” Yet, though he mocked, he could not catch the Lord. At last, the Blessed Lord entered the mountain cave, and the Yavana followed. There, he saw another man lying down. Thinking, “Surely this one has been brought far away and is lying here like a saint,” the foolish Yavana struck Achyuta, who lay there, with his foot.