He who had constantly meditated upon the Blessed Lord, his heart freed from all bonds and his very form resembling that of Hari, O King, became wholly absorbed into the Supreme. Meanwhile, at the royal gate, people beheld a severed head, adorned with earrings, and wondered in confusion, “What is this? Whose face could this be?” Recognizing it as the head of the king of Kashi, his queens, sons, relatives, and all the citizens were overcome with grief, wailing, “Alas, the king is slain! Our protector is gone!” Sudakshina, the king’s son, performed the funeral rites for his departed father. Consumed by sorrow and dutiful resolve, he vowed, “I shall destroy my father’s killer and thus honor my father.” With this determination, Sudakshina, accompanied by his priest, began to worship Lord Maheshvara with supreme concentration. Pleased in Avimukta, Lord Shiva appeared before Sudakshina and offered him a boon. Sudakshina chose the means to slay his father’s killer as his desire. Shiva instructed him: “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.” Following these instructions, Sudakshina performed the sorcery rite against Krishna, strictly observing the necessary vows. From the sacrificial fire-pit, there arose a terrifying embodied fire. Its hair and beard blazed copper-red, and its eyes streamed forth flames. It had fierce fangs, a dreadful brow, a harsh mouth, and licked its lips with its own tongue. Naked and shaking a blazing trident, it made a rattling sound as it advanced. Its feet were as large as palm trees, shaking the very earth as it strode, surrounded by spirits, burning all directions as it made its way toward Dvaraka. The people of Dvaraka, seeing this dreadful sorcerous fire approaching, were seized with terror, like deer trapped in a forest fire. In their fear, they rushed to Bhagavan Krishna, who was playing dice in the assembly hall, and cried out, “Save us, O Lord of the three worlds, from the fire burning the city!” Hearing their cries and seeing his people so afraid, Krishna, the refuge of all, smiled gently and reassured them, “Do not fear; I am your protector.” The all-pervading Lord, witness within and without all, recognized the sorcerous act born of Maheshvara’s boon. To thwart it, he ordered his discus, Sudarshana, which stood ever at his side. That Sudarshana discus, blazing like ten million suns and shining with the radiance of the fire at dissolution, illuminated the sky, the quarters, and the earth by its own brilliance. As Mukunda’s weapon, it subdued the fiery being conjured by the ritual. O King, the fiery being, struck down by the power of the discus-wielder’s weapon, was broken and turned back, its face defeated. It then entered Varanasi, where it consumed Sudakshina and his priests—the very sorcery they had performed turned back upon them. Thereafter, Sudarshana, the discus of Vishnu, entered Varanasi itself, burning its palaces, assembly halls, markets, gates, towers, granaries, treasuries, elephants, horses, chariots, and stores of grain. Having consumed all of Varanasi, the Sudarshana discus returned once again to Krishna’s side, the Lord of flawless deeds. Whoever, with focused mind, recites or hears this account of the praiseworthy Lord’s exploits is freed from all sins. At this point, the king spoke, “Once more I wish to hear of the wondrous deeds of Rama, the immeasurable and infinite Lord—what else did that master accomplish?” And Shuka replied: “There was a certain monkey named Dvivida, a friend of Naraka, a counselor of Sugriva, and the valiant brother of Mainda. Seeking to avenge his friend, Dvivida 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 other times, standing in the midst of the ocean, he would lift up its waters with his arms and submerge the 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, casting them into mountain caves and valleys, then crushed them with rocks as a craftsman crushes insects. Thus, as he ravaged the lands and violated noble women, he once heard sweet singing and was drawn to Mount Raivataka. There he saw Rama, the 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. The 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, who were companions of Balarama, burst into laughter. The monkey mocked them, throwing clods of earth and other things from the front, displaying his backside to them, all while being watched by Rama. Then, enraged, Balarama—the foremost of those who strike—hurled a rock at him; but the monkey, nimbly avoiding the rock, seized the wine jar. Taking hold of it, the cunning monkey mocked Balarama, provoking him with laughter; wickedly, he broke the jar and scattered Balarama’s garments. Overpowering Balarama, intoxicated with pride, he acted insolently; seeing his disrespect and the havoc he had wrought, Balarama became angry. He took up his club and plough, desiring to kill his foe, but Dvivida, of great might, raised a giant tree in his hand. Rushing swiftly, he struck Balarama on the head with it, but Sankarshana stood unmoved, like a mountain struck from above. The powerful Balarama caught the tree and struck Dvivida with his club; his skull shattered by the blow, and blood streamed forth. Yet, like a mountain stained with red ochre, Dvivida did not heed the blow. Once more, seizing another tree, he stripped it of its branches with force, preparing to continue the fight.