As the fierce battle raged on, Bāṇa witnessed his own forces crumble before him. Consumed by burning rage, he abandoned his fight with Sātyaki and charged directly at Kṛṣṇa, determined to confront the Lord amidst the chaos. Driven mad by the fury of battle, Bāṇa drew his bows simultaneously, setting two arrows on each of five hundred shafts, unleashing a relentless storm upon his divine adversary. Yet, Lord Hari met this onslaught with effortless might. In a single moment, he cut down all of Bāṇa’s bows, slew his charioteer, destroyed his chariot, and felled his horses. Then, Kṛṣṇa sounded his conch, its resonant blast echoing across the battlefield. Desperate to protect her son, Bāṇa’s mother Koṭarā appeared before Kṛṣṇa. She stood naked, her hair disheveled, invoking ancient custom to seek mercy for Bāṇa’s life. Out of respect, Gadāgraja—Kṛṣṇa—turned his face aside, refusing to look upon the naked woman. Bāṇa, now bereft of chariot and bow, retreated into the city. As the hosts of beings were driven away, a fever demon with three heads and three feet, blazing with heat, rushed at Kṛṣṇa, descendant of Dasarha, as if intent on burning all ten directions. Witnessing this, the divine Nārāyaṇa released his own fever demon, and the fever of Śiva and the fever of Viṣṇu engaged in a furious battle. Overpowered by the might of Viṣṇu’s fever, Śiva’s fever demon cried out in distress. Unable to find refuge and frightened, he sought shelter in Hṛṣīkeśa, praising him with folded hands: “I bow to you, O Lord of infinite power, supreme ruler, soul of all, pure consciousness, cause of creation, maintenance, and dissolution, tranquil Brahman, mark of Brahman. All that exists—time, destiny, action, living beings, nature, substance, field, breath, self, transformation—this flow of seed and sprout is your illusion; I seek refuge in its negation. Through your divine play, you assume many forms, supporting gods, the virtuous, and the bridges of worlds, destroying those who stray by violence. Your birth relieves the earth’s burden. I am scorched by your unbearable, fierce fever; as long as people are bound by hope, they do not worship your feet, and their suffering continues.” The Blessed Lord replied, “O Triśiras, I am pleased with you. Let your fear from fever be dispelled. Whoever remembers our conversation will not suffer fear from you.” Thus comforted, Śiva’s fever demon bowed to Acyuta and departed. Meanwhile, Bāṇa, mounting a new chariot, advanced again to fight Janārdana. Bearing a thousand arms and wielding many weapons, he released arrows in great fury at Kṛṣṇa, the wielder of the discus. Again and again, the Lord cut down the weapons that came from Bāṇa’s mouth with the razor-edged discus, severing Bāṇa’s arms like branches from a tree. As Bāṇa’s arms were being cut, Lord Bhava—Śiva—compassionate to his devotee, approached Kṛṣṇa and spoke: “You are the supreme Brahman, the highest light, hidden within the Brahman expressed in words. Those with pure souls see you alone, like the sky. Your navel is ether, fire your mouth, water your semen, sky your head, directions your ears, feet the earth; the moon is your mind, the sun your eye, the self your soul, I am the ocean, your belly, and the serpent king is your arm. Your hairs are plants, clouds your waters, Brahmā your hair, intelligence your creative power, Prajāpati your heart, Dharma your essence; truly, you are the cosmic person, the model of the worlds. This descent of yours, O unimpeded Lord, is for the protection of dharma and the welfare of the world. We, inspired by you, comprehend the seven realms. You alone are the primordial, unique Person, the fourth beyond; self-seeing, cause and causeless. You appear, yet unchanged, by your own power, for the manifestation of all qualities. Just as the sun, concealed by its own shadow, projects both shadow and forms, so you, hidden by your quality, illuminate the qualities and those possessing qualities. Those whose minds are deluded by your maya become attached to children, spouses, homes, and so forth, rising and sinking, engrossed in the ocean of misfortune. Having obtained this human birth, if one with uncontrolled senses does not honor your feet, he is to be pitied, for he deceives himself. He who abandons you, his own beloved self, and pursues objects of the senses in reverse, consumes poison, forsaking nectar. I, Brahma, the gods, and the sages of pure mind have all surrendered to you, the dearest Lord, with our whole being. You, the cause of the world’s creation, sustenance, and dissolution, equal, tranquil, friend, self and god—the sole, nondual source of the universe—we worship you, O Lord, for liberation from birth and death. This one is dear to me, beloved, obedient; I have granted him fearlessness, O Lord. Let your favor be bestowed upon him, as you showed mercy to the lord of the daityas.” The Blessed Lord replied, “O revered one, whatever you say, I shall do what pleases you; whatever you decide is agreeable and approved by me. This son of Virocana, an asura, is not to be slain even by me; a boon was granted to Prahlada, so neither he nor your lineage shall be killed by me. To humble his pride, I have broken his arms; his vast army, which burdened the earth, has been destroyed by me. Four of his arms remain; he will be ageless and immortal, chief among your attendants, and shall have no fear from anywhere.” Thus, having received fearlessness, Bāṇa bowed his head to Kṛṣṇa, placed Pradyumna on the chariot with his wife, and brought him forward. Surrounded by an army division, adorned in fine garments and ornaments, with his wife beside him, he departed, honored by Rudra. He entered his royal city, splendid with flags, gateways, and guarded crossroads, amid the sounds of conch, trumpet, and drum, welcomed by citizens, friends, and the twice-born. Whoever remembers Kṛṣṇa’s victory and his battle with Śaṅkara, rising in the morning, will never suffer defeat. Thus ends the sixty-third chapter, entitled “The Bringing of Aniruddha,” in the tenth canto, second half, of the holy Bhagavata Mahapurana, the scripture of the supreme swan. Śrī Śuka continued: O best of the Kurus, Lord Balarāma, eager to see his dear friends, mounted his chariot and went to Nanda’s Gokula. There, embraced for a long time by the cowherds and cowherd women who had yearned for him, Rāma bowed to his parents and was joyfully blessed by them.