As the battle raged, the enemy kings hurled their weapons—spears, maces, clubs, javelins, lances, darts, swords, sabres, and arrows—against Hari, seeking to overwhelm him. Yet Krishna met their onslaught with unyielding might, striking fiercely at the armies of Paundraka and the king of Kashi. With his own weapons—mace, sword, discus, and arrows—he tore through their ranks, elephants, chariots, horses, and infantry alike, consuming them as fire at the end of an age consumes all living beings. The battlefield soon became a terrifying spectacle, strewn with the bodies of elephants, horses, camels, donkeys, and men, shattered by the warriors. It shone like a cremation ground, a place of strange delight for the fearless, as fearsome as the playground of the Lord of beings. Then Śauri, Krishna, addressed Paundraka: “Ho, Paundraka! Since you have spoken to me through your messenger, I will now relinquish these weapons to you.” He continued, “I will abandon the name you have falsely assumed of me, O fool. Today I will seek refuge with you, if I do not desire battle.” Having spoken, Krishna struck Paundraka with sharp arrows, deprived him of his chariot, and finally, with a chariot wheel, severed his head—just as Indra cleaves a mountain with his thunderbolt. In the same way, Krishna cut off the head of the king of Kashi with arrows and cast it down in the city of Kashi, like the wind dropping a lotus bud. Having slain the envious Paundraka and his ally, Hari returned to Dvaraka, while the perfected beings sang nectar-like tales of his glory. Paundraka, constantly meditating on the Blessed Lord, freed from all bonds and bearing the form of Hari, became absorbed in Him. When the severed head of the king of Kashi, adorned with earrings, appeared at the royal gate, the people wondered in astonishment, “What is this? Whose face could this be?” Recognizing it as their king’s head, his queens, sons, relatives, and citizens wailed, “Alas, the king is slain! Our protector is gone!” Sudakshina, the king’s son, performed the funeral rites for his father and resolved, “I will destroy my father’s killer and thus honor my father.” With determination, Sudakshina and his priest worshipped Maheshvara, Lord Shiva, with supreme concentration. Pleased in Avimukta, Shiva granted him a boon, and Sudakshina asked for the means to slay his father’s killer. Shiva instructed: “Worship the southern fire with Brahmins and your officiating priest, performing the ritual of sorcery. That fire, surrounded by spirits, when employed against one who is unrighteous, will accomplish your intent.” Thus instructed, Sudakshina performed the sorcery rite against Krishna, strictly observing the vow. From the fire-pit arose a terrifying embodied fire, with blazing copper-red hair and beard, and eyes streaming flames. With fierce fangs, a dreadful brow, a harsh mouth, licking his lips with his own tongue, naked and shaking a blazing trident, making a rattling sound, he appeared. His feet were as large as palm trees, shaking the earth as he advanced, surrounded by spirits, burning all directions as he headed for Dvaraka. Seeing this sorcerous fire approaching, the inhabitants of Dvaraka were seized with terror, like deer trapped in a forest fire. Frightened, they rushed to Bhagavan, who was playing dice in the assembly hall, and cried, “Save us, O Lord of the three worlds, from the fire burning the city!” Hearing their distress and seeing his people afraid, the refuge of all smiled and said, “Do not fear; I am your protector.” The all-pervading Lord, witness within and without, recognized the sorcerous act of Maheshvara and, to thwart it, ordered his discus, Sudarshana, which stood at his side. The Sudarshana discus, blazing like ten million suns and shining with the radiance of the fire at dissolution, illuminated the sky, the directions, and the earth by its own brilliance. Then, as Mukunda’s weapon, it subdued the fiery being. The fiery creature, struck down by the power of the discus-wielder’s weapon, was broken and turned back, its face defeated. Entering Varanasi, it consumed Sudakshina and his priests—the very sorcery they had performed turned upon them. Then, the discus of Vishnu entered Varanasi itself, with its palaces, assembly halls, markets, gates, towers, granaries, treasuries, elephants, horses, chariots, and stores of grain. The Sudarshana discus burned all of Varanasi and then returned to Krishna’s side, the doer of flawless deeds. Whoever, with focused mind, recites or hears this account of the exploits of the praiseworthy Lord, is freed from all sins. The king then spoke: “Once more I wish to hear of the wondrous deeds of Rama, the immeasurable and infinite Lord—what else did that master accomplish?” Shuka replied: “There was a certain monkey named Dvivida, a friend of Naraka, a counselor of Sugriva, and the valiant brother of Mainda. This monkey, seeking to avenge his friend, brought ruin to the land—he set fire to cities, villages, settlements, and cowherds’ hamlets. Sometimes, uprooting mountains, he crushed regions with them, especially in Anarta, where Hari, the slayer of his friend, resided. At times, standing in the middle of the ocean, he would lift up its waters with his arms and submerge lands along the shore, possessing the strength of ten thousand elephants. He destroyed the hermitages of great sages by breaking their trees, and, wicked as he was, defiled their sacred fires with urine and excrement. Arrogant, he seized men and women and cast them into mountain caves and valleys, then crushed them with rocks as a craftsman crushes insects. As he ravaged the lands and violated noble women, he heard sweet singing and went to Mount Raivataka. There he saw Rama, Lord of the Yadus, adorned with a garland of lotuses, beautiful in every limb, surrounded by groups of women. He saw Rama singing, his eyes unsteady from drinking Varuni, his form radiant like a mighty elephant in rut. That wicked monkey climbed a tree, shaking its branches, making loud noises, and drawing attention to himself. Seeing the monkey’s insolence, the young women, playful and fond of laughter, companions of Balarama, burst into laughter.