O King, the dark days of terror had passed: Kalanemi, Kamsa, Pralamba, and other wicked ones had been slain, and now even this Yavana had been consumed—burned to ashes by your own fierce gaze. It was then that the Lord Himself appeared before you in the cave, radiant and compassionate, saying, “I have come here for your sake, to show you my favor. In the past, you prayed to me with great devotion, and I am ever devoted to my devotees.” With a voice that stilled all fear, the Lord continued, “Choose your boons, O royal sage. I grant all your desires. One who has my favor need never grieve again.” Hearing these words, Mucukunda was filled with joy. He bowed deeply, recognizing that it was indeed Narayana before him, and recalled the ancient words of sage Garga. Mucukunda then spoke from his heart: “O Lord, people are deluded by your maya. Failing to see you, they worship not, and, seeking happiness, they become entangled in homes, in women and men, and are deceived by misfortune. O sinless one, when one attains this rare human birth, sound in body and without great effort, yet does not worship your lotus feet—such a person, misguided, falls into the dark well of household life like an animal.” He confessed with humility, “O Unconquered Lord, my own time has passed fruitlessly. As a king, intoxicated by royal opulence, I was absorbed in the mortal conception of self, deeply attached to my children, wife, wealth, and possessions, tormented by endless anxieties. In this body, which is like a clay pot, I was established as ‘king of men,’ surrounded by chariots, elephants, horses, infantry, and retinues, roaming the earth in arrogance, counting no one my equal.” He continued, “Intoxicated, I was absorbed in restless plans, with ever-increasing greed and cravings for sense pleasures. But you, O Death, unbewildered, approach suddenly—like a snake licking at a mouse’s hole. Once, I rode in chariots adorned with gold, or on mighty elephants, called ‘king of men,’ but by the inescapable force of time, this very body is reduced to excrement, worms, or ashes.” “Having conquered all directions, assuming a form as vast as the earth, seated on a splendid throne and honored by other kings, still a man is led, O Lord, like a plaything of women, into the pleasures of home, as a beast for their sport. Even one who performs actions, firmly established in austerity, renouncing enjoyment and giving charity as required, again desires, ‘May I become a sovereign king,’ and with growing thirst, does not attain happiness.” “But when, after wandering in worldly existence, a person attains liberation, O Infallible One, then he gains the association of the virtuous; and in such company, devotion to you, Lord of all, arises at that very moment. O Lord, I consider it your special favor upon me that, by chance, my attachment to kingdom has been removed—something the virtuous strive for when, desiring to enter the forest, they renounce the unbroken expanse of land.” “O Master, I desire no boon but service at your feet, which is most sought after even by those who have nothing. For who, having worshiped you, the giver of liberation, would choose any other boon that only binds the soul? Therefore, O Lord, abandoning all desires everywhere—bound to passion, ignorance, and even goodness—I approach you, the pure, qualityless, nondual supreme Person, pure consciousness itself.” “Long tormented here by suffering and remorse, afflicted by enemies such as thirst, never finding peace, I have somehow come to your lotus feet, O shelter-giving Supreme Soul. Protect me, O Lord, who am helpless, with fearlessness, immortality, and freedom from sorrow.” The Blessed Lord replied with affection, “O great king, ruler of the earth, your mind is pure and steadfast; even when tempted by boons, you have not been disturbed by desires. Know that my offer of boons was only to test your vigilance, for the mind of those with exclusive devotion is never shaken by blessings. For those who practice yoga but lack devotion, O king, the mind, with its undiminished desires, is seen to rise again, even after control through breath and other means. Therefore, roam the earth as you wish, with your mind absorbed in me; may you always have unwavering devotion to me.” He reassured Mucukunda, “While established in the duty of a warrior, you have killed creatures in hunting and other ways; but, being intent on this austerity and taking refuge in me, cast off all sin. In your next birth, O king, you will become the best of twice-born, a supreme friend to all beings, and you will attain me alone.” Śuka then spoke to his listener: “Thus, O dear one, favored by Krishna, the son of Ikshvaku circumambulated the Lord, bowed low, and departed from the mouth of the cave. As he emerged, he saw the people, animals, herbs, and trees had all become small, and realized that the age of Kali had arrived. With this understanding, he turned northward. Endowed with austerity and faith, resolute, free from attachment and doubt, he fixed his mind on Krishna and entered Gandhamadana. Reaching Badarī-āśrama, the abode of Nara and Nārāyaṇa, he, enduring all dualities and remaining peaceful, worshipped Hari through austerities.” Meanwhile, the Lord returned to the city surrounded by the Yavanas. There, he slew the barbarian forces and brought their wealth to Dvārakā. As this wealth was being transported with cows and men, Acyuta was confronted by Jarāsandha, the king who arrived with twenty-three armies. Seeing the enemy army advancing swiftly and forcefully, Krishna and Balarāma, adopting human ways, quickly fled, O King. Though they appeared afraid and abandoned abundant wealth, they were truly fearless. On foot, with their lotus-like feet, they traveled many yojanas. The mighty king of Magadha, seeing them flee, laughed and pursued with his chariot divisions, unaware of their true power. After running a great distance and becoming exhausted, Krishna and Balarāma climbed the high mountain called Pravarṣaṇa, where it always rains. Unable to find their tracks, the king believed they were hiding and set fire to the mountain on all sides. Then, leaping swiftly from the burning slope, both brothers descended from the ten-yojana-high peak to the ground below. Unseen by the enemy and his followers, the best of the Yadus returned again to their city, protected by the ocean. Believing falsely that Balarāma and Keśava had been burned, the king of Magadha withdrew his vast army and returned to his own land. In the meantime, the illustrious king of Ānarta, Raivata, prompted by Brahmā, gave his daughter Raivatī to Baladeva, as had been foretold. And Govinda, the Lord, also married Vaidarbhī, the daughter of Bhīṣmaka and mother of Śrī herself, at her own svayaṃvara. Having overpowered the kings—Śālva and the allies of Cedi—by force, Krishna took her before the eyes of all, just as Garuḍa once took the nectar of the gods.