As the world was gripped by unrighteousness, its people heedless of virtue, a remarkable plea arose before Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa. Though most were lost in selfish deeds, this act—born from the suffering of the captive kings—was, in truth, a form of worship for the Lord. The kings, deprived of sleep and hope, imprisoned by the Magadhan tyrant Jarāsandha, offered their salutations to any who might deliver them, even if their own lives were cut short in the process. The Lord had descended to earth for the protection of the righteous and the subjugation of the wicked. Who could transgress His command, or claim the fruits of their own actions, when all was ultimately under His will? The kings lamented their plight: the happiness of royalty was like a fleeting dream, always dependent on others and burdened by fear. Their lives, yoked to suffering, were as good as dead. They had abandoned the true happiness found within the self—a happiness easily attained through the Lord—and now, deluded by His māyā, they suffered greatly. Therefore, they prayed: “May You, whose feet remove the sorrow of those who take refuge, release us from the bonds of the Magadhan’s deeds. You alone, with the strength of ten thousand elephants, restrained the king who, like a lion among beasts, had confined us in his palace. His pride was unyielding, and he delighted in conquering the world, but You, O Lord of infinite power, defeated him repeatedly, breaking his noble disc in battle twenty-two times. Now he afflicts Your people. O unconquered One, please act accordingly.” A messenger, speaking on their behalf, explained: “Thus, held captive by the Magadhan and longing to see You, these kings have taken refuge at Your feet. Please grant well-being to these afflicted ones.” As the royal messenger spoke, the divine sage Nārada appeared suddenly, radiant and bearing tawny matted locks, like the sun emerging from darkness. Seeing Nārada, Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa, Lord of all the lords of the worlds, rose with His assembly and followers, and joyfully bowed His head in respect. Honoring the sage properly, offering him a seat, Kṛṣṇa addressed him with pleasing words, full of faith and reverence. “Is all well today among the three worlds, free from fear?” Kṛṣṇa asked. “Surely, the virtue of the Lord increases as He travels among the worlds. Nothing is unknown to you in all the worlds, O Lord among creators. Therefore, we ask you: what do the Pāṇḍavas intend?” Nārada replied: “O Lord, I have seen Your māyā many times—difficult to overcome. As You move among beings with Your own powers, Your glory is hidden, like fire concealed in wood. Thus, nothing astonishes me. Who indeed is fit to know well Your actions here, as You create and withdraw this world by Your own māyā? What appears to exist is only a reflection of understanding. I bow to You, whose nature is beyond all distinctions. He who grants liberation to the soul wandering in saṃsāra, who does not know the suffering brought by the body—He, who by His playful descents kindles His own fame—I take refuge in Him, who dispels darkness. Yet, O Brahman, I shall relate what is intended by the king, your devotee, the son of your paternal aunt, as he enacts a deed that amazes the world of men. The son of Pāṇḍu, desiring the status of Brahmā, will worship You with the Rājasūya sacrifice, O Lord. May You be pleased with this. At that supreme sacrifice, O God, You will be seen by the gods and other illustrious kings, who will assemble there out of eagerness. By hearing, singing, or meditating upon You, O Lord of Brahman, even those who dwell near are purified—how much more so those who see or touch You? The pure fame of whose feet is renowned in heaven, on earth, and in the netherworld—whose water, called Mandākinī in heaven, Bhogavatī below, and Gaṅgā here, sanctifies the universe—may that water, flowing from Your feet, bless all the worlds.” As those on His side grew eager for conquest, Keśava, smiling and with sweet words, turned to His servant Uddhava. “You are indeed our supreme eye, a true friend who knows the essence and purpose of counsel. Therefore, speak here what should be done; we have faith and shall act accordingly.” Though all-knowing, Uddhava humbly accepted the command with bowed head and replied. Śuka continued: Hearing the words of the divine sage, Uddhava, wise among the wise, after understanding the opinion of the assembly and of Kṛṣṇa, spoke as follows. “O Lord,” Uddhava said, “as the sage has spoken, you should act as an advisor for the sacrifice, protect your paternal cousin, and shelter those who seek refuge. The Rājasūya sacrifice should be performed by you, O mighty one, as conqueror of the quarters; thus, the defeat of Jarāsandha serves both purposes, in my view. For us, too, a great benefit will arise from this, O Govinda, and your fame will increase by freeing the kings who are imprisoned. That king is truly hard to overcome, equal in strength to ten thousand elephants, and among the strong, none can match him except Bhīma. He must be defeated in single combat, not by an army of a hundred divisions; he is devoted to the Brāhmaṇas and never refuses a request from them. Let Vṛkodara, disguised as a Brāhmaṇa, go and beg from him; he will surely kill him in single combat in your presence—there is no doubt. The Supreme Lord is the cause for both the creation and destruction of the universe; Hiraṇyagarbha and Śarva are forms of your timeless power. Your pure deeds are sung in the homes of the gods: the slaying of the enemies of kings, the liberation of your own self, by the Gopīs, the wives of the elephant-lord, the daughters of Janaka, your parents who found refuge in you, the sages, and by us. O Kṛṣṇa, the killing of Jarāsandha will serve many purposes; and the sacrifice you desire will be accomplished as a result of this act.” All present honored Uddhava’s words, which were auspicious in every way for Acyuta—the divine sage, the elders of the Yadus, and Kṛṣṇa himself. Then the Lord, son of Devakī, gave orders to depart. He took leave of his elders and instructed his servants Dāruka, Jaitra, and others, preparing for the journey. He sent forth his own women, sons, and attendants, took leave of Saṅkarṣaṇa and the Yadu king, the destroyer of enemies, and ascended his chariot bearing the Garuḍa emblem, which was brought by the charioteer. Surrounded by his own army—commanders of chariots, elephants, infantry, and cavalry—he set out, the quarters resounding with the blare of mṛdaṅgas, kettle-drums, conches, and trumpets. With their sons, the virtuous wives, adorned with fine garments, ornaments, unguents, and garlands, followed Acyuta, their lord, riding in golden palanquins and chariots, well-guarded by men bearing swords and shields. Men, camels, cows, buffaloes, donkeys, horses, and chariots, along with elephants, attendants, and noble women, all adorned with bangles, armlets, blankets, and garments, carrying their belongings, set out in every direction. The army, with great banners, cloth canopies, parasols, and fans, bearing splendid weapons, ornaments, crowns, and armor, shone with the brilliance of the sun, its tumultuous roar like the ocean stirred by mighty whales and waves.