After careful consideration of the looming threat posed by Jarasandha, the Yadus realized that if he were to attack while they engaged in battle, he might slay their kinsmen or, being powerful, abduct them to his own city. To safeguard their loved ones, they resolved that very day to construct a fortress—an impregnable city that would be difficult for any man to approach. There, their families would be settled securely, allowing them to face the Yavana invader without fear. The Blessed Lord, after due deliberation, brought forth by His divine power a wondrous fortress—twelve yojanas wide—within the sea itself. This city was a marvel, displaying the expert craftsmanship of Tvaṣṭṛ. Its streets, crossroads, and avenues were all laid out with perfect architectural precision. The city gleamed, adorned with celestial trees and gardens, marvelous groves, and towers of gold that reached toward the heavens. Crystal mansions and majestic gateways stood everywhere. The city’s splendor was further enhanced by silver and gold turrets, treasuries decorated with golden jars, houses crowned with jewels, and vast platforms of emerald. Palaces of the guardians of the directions and residences for beloved women filled the city, which bustled with people from all four varṇas. The homes of the Yadus shone like those of gods. Indra, the king of the gods, sent the celestial assembly hall Sudharmā and the wish-fulfilling Pārijāta tree to this city, so that even mortals who lived there would be freed from mortal limitations. Varuṇa gifted swift, white horses as fast as the mind, and the lord of treasures bestowed eight great treasuries. The guardians of the worlds contributed all their opulences, returning to Hari whatever lordship He had once granted them, for now He had descended to earth. By His yogic power, Hari brought all His people into this glorious city. After consulting with Rāma, the protector of the people, Kṛṣṇa left the city gate, unarmed and garlanded with lotuses. As He emerged, shining like the rising moon, He was a vision of supreme beauty—His complexion dark as a rain cloud, clad in radiant yellow silk. The Śrīvatsa mark adorned His chest, and the Kaustubha gem sparkled at His throat. Tall and broad-shouldered, with four arms and eyes like fresh red lotuses, He was ever joyful, His rounded cheeks glowing with a pure smile, His lotus-like face framed by brilliant makara-shaped earrings. Adorned with a garland of forest flowers, He was unmistakably Vāsudeva, the Supreme Lord. The Yavana king, seeing these divine signs described by Nārada, knew at once that this could be no one else. Resolving to fight, he declared, “I shall seize Him, unarmed as He is, and I too will fight unarmed.” Driven by this resolve, the Yavana pursued Kṛṣṇa, who moved swiftly ahead, always just out of reach—though He is unattainable even to the greatest yogis. Like a man trying to grasp his own reflection, the Yavana was led step by step by Hari, who appeared always at a distance, into a mountain cave. The Yavana, taunting as he followed—“Flight does not befit one born in the Yadu line!”—could not catch Him, no matter how hard he tried. Finally, the Blessed Lord entered the cave, and the Yavana followed, only to find another man lying there, seemingly saintly and at peace. Mistaking this sleeping figure for Kṛṣṇa, the foolish Yavana struck him with his foot. The man, having slept for a long time, slowly awoke and opened his eyes, looking around to see the Yavana standing beside him. In that instant, the fire of his angry gaze, born from his own body, reduced the Yavana to ashes. King Parīkṣit, hearing this, asked, “O brāhmaṇa, who was that man? Of what lineage and power? Why was he sleeping in the cave? What was the brilliance of the destroyer of the Yavana?” Śrī Śuka replied: That man was Mucukunda, a great soul of the Ikṣvāku dynasty, son of Māndhātṛ, renowned for his devotion to the brāhmaṇas and steadfastness in truth. At the request of the gods, including Indra, he had protected them for a long time from the asuras who threatened them. After many ages, the gods found their protector Mucukunda in the cave and said, “O king, you have endured great hardship for our sake. Please desist now. You have forsaken your kingdom, your sons, wives, relatives, and subjects—all have passed away with time. Time, the almighty and imperishable Lord, is stronger than the strong; He brings all beings to their end as a herdsman drives cattle. Choose a boon, O fortunate one—anything but liberation, for that is not ours to grant. Only the imperishable Bhagavān Viṣṇu can bestow that.” Having bowed to the gods, Mucukunda entered the cave and surrendered to divine sleep. When the Yavana was destroyed, the Blessed Lord, best of the Sātvatas, revealed Himself to the wise Mucukunda. Mucukunda beheld Him—dark as a rain cloud, clad in yellow silk, marked with the Śrīvatsa on His chest, and shining with the Kaustubha gem. Four radiant arms, the Vaijayantī garland, a beautiful, gracious face, and sparkling makara earrings adorned Him. His affectionate, ever-youthful eyes, majestic like a lion, and noble prowess captivated all who saw Him. Awestruck and cautious before such brilliance, the wise king gently questioned this divine visitor, as if approaching an unconquerable power. “Who are you,” Mucukunda asked, “who have come into this forest, into this mountain cave, wandering with your lotus-like feet among the thorny undergrowth? What brilliance of the radiant ones—be it the Lord, fire, sun, moon, Indra, or any guardian of the worlds—can compare to yours? I consider you the foremost among the gods of gods, for you dispel the darkness of this cave as a lamp does with its light.