The king they spoke of was a formidable force, his might likened to that of ten thousand elephants. Among the powerful, only Bhīma could rival him—none else matched his strength. To overcome such a warrior, it was not enough to send forth a vast army, even one a hundred divisions strong; he could only be bested in single combat. This king was deeply devoted to the Brāhmaṇas, never turning away any request they made. A plan was proposed: let Vṛkodara—Bhīma—approach him, disguised as a Brāhmaṇa, and beg of him. Bound by his vow to never refuse a Brāhmaṇa, the king would grant the request, and Bhīma would surely defeat him in single combat, right before all eyes—there could be no doubt. In these discussions, the Supreme Lord was invoked, the very cause of creation and destruction in the universe. Hiraṇyagarbha and Śarva were acknowledged as forms of his timeless power. The pure deeds of Kṛṣṇa—the slaying of enemies of kings, the liberation of his own self—were sung in the homes of the gods, by the Gopīs, the wives of the elephant-lord, the daughters of Janaka, his parents who sought refuge in him, the sages, and all who revered him. O Kṛṣṇa, it was said, the killing of Jarāsandha would fulfill many purposes, and the great sacrifice you desire would be accomplished as a result. Śuka continued: All present—divine sage, elders of the Yadus, and Kṛṣṇa himself—honored Uddhava’s wise and auspicious words. Then, the Lord, son of Devakī, gave the order to depart. He took leave of his elders and instructed his servants—Dāruka, Jaitra, and others—then made ready for the journey. He sent forth his women, sons, and attendants, took leave of Saṅkarṣaṇa and the Yadu king, the destroyer of enemies, and ascended his chariot bearing the Garuḍa emblem, brought forth by his charioteer. Surrounded by his own army—commanders of chariots, elephants, infantry, and cavalry—he set out, the quarters resounding with the thunder of mṛdaṅgas, kettle-drums, conches, and trumpets. The virtuous wives, adorned in fine garments, ornaments, fragrant unguents, and garlands, followed Acyuta, their lord, in golden palanquins and chariots, well-guarded by men bearing swords and shields. Men, camels, cows, buffaloes, donkeys, horses, chariots, elephants, attendants, and noble women, all adorned with bangles, armlets, blankets, and garments, carrying their belongings, set out in every direction. The army, waving great banners, cloth canopies, parasols, and fans, bearing splendid weapons, ornaments, crowns, and armor, shone like the sun, its tumultuous roar like the ocean stirred by mighty whales and waves. As they departed, the honored sage bowed to the lord of the Yadus, fixing him in his heart, and departed through the sky. Hearing the sage’s resolve, Mukunda, whose senses were satisfied by the sight of the Lord, brought forth the proper offerings. The Blessed Lord, delighting the royal messenger with his words, said, “Do not fear, O messenger; blessings to you. I will destroy the Magadhan.” Thus reassured, the messenger departed and conveyed the message to the kings, who also witnessed the appearance of Śauri, whom they wished to be freed. Hari crossed the lands of Ānarta, Sauvīra, Maru, and Vinaśana, traversing mountains and rivers, arriving at cities, villages, and cattle stations. He crossed the Drishadvati and Sarasvati rivers, reached the Panchalas, then the Matsyas, and finally arrived at Shakraprastha. News of his arrival reached the king, beloved of all and rarely seen by men. With joy, the king came out to meet him, surrounded by his teachers and friends. Accompanied by the sounds of singing, musical instruments, and the loud chanting of Brāhmaṇas, he approached Hrishikesha with reverence, as vital breath approaches the life-breath. Seeing Krishna, the Pāṇḍava’s heart overflowed with affection. He embraced his dearest friend, whom he had not seen for so long, again and again. Holding the spotless abode of Lakshmi, the body of Mukunda, in his arms, the king was freed from all misfortune and attained supreme joy—his eyes filled with tears, his body thrilled, and all worldly concerns forgotten. Bhīma, overjoyed, embraced his cousin, his senses overwhelmed with love and smiling. The twins and the crowned one, too, with hearts full, embraced Achyuta, their tears flowing. Arjuna embraced Krishna, and the twins greeted him; Krishna then bowed to the Brāhmaṇas and elders, honoring them as was proper. He honored the proud Kurus, Sṛñjayas, and Kaikeyas, as well as the charioteers, bards, Gandharvas, singers, and counselors. Drums, conches, kettle-drums, lutes, flutes, and cow-horns sounded as the Brāhmaṇas praised Lotus-eyed Krishna, dancing and singing. Surrounded by friends, praised by all, the Blessed Lord entered the adorned city. The path was sprinkled with fragrant water from elephants, adorned with colorful banners, golden gateways, and full pots. Men and women, radiant in new garments, ornaments, and garlands, filled the air with scents, making the city resplendent. He saw the royal city shining with houses, their entrances bright with lamps and offerings, beautiful flags fluttering, golden pots on the roofs, and large silver pinnacles. Hearing that the one who quenched the eyes of men had arrived, the young women, their hair loosened in eagerness and garments unfastened, abandoned their household tasks and even their husbands in bed, and rushed to see the king along the royal road. In that place, crowded with elephants, horses, chariots, and foot soldiers, the women, having seen Krishna with his wives from their homes, scattered flowers and, embracing him in their minds, offered a most gracious welcome with smiling glances. The women, seeing Mukunda’s wives on the road, said to one another, “Like stars beside the moon, what could they lack? For with his eyes, the crown of men, his noble smile, and playful glances, he creates a festival of delight.” The citizens approached, bearing auspicious offerings, and the foremost among them, purified of sin, performed worship for Krishna in proper order. Mukunda, joyfully welcomed by the women of the inner chambers, their eyes blooming with affection and reverence, entered the royal palace. Pritha, seeing Krishna—her brother’s son and Lord of the three worlds—rose from her couch, heart full of love, and, together with her daughters-in-law, embraced him. Bringing Govinda, the Lord of gods, into his home with honor, the king was so overwhelmed with joy he could not discern what duties remained in the worship. Krishna offered salutations to his paternal aunt, maternal aunt, and teachers, and he was greeted in turn by Kunti and his sister. Prompted by her mother-in-law, Draupadī and all the wives of the Pāṇḍavas honored Rukmini, Satyā, Bhadrā, and Jāmbavatī. They also honored Kālindī, Mitravindā, Śaibyā, Nāgnajitī, and the other virtuous queens who had arrived, presenting them with garments, garlands, ornaments, and the like. King Yudhishthira comfortably accommodated Janardana, along with his army, attendants, and wives, renewing his hospitality again and again, ensuring all were welcomed and cared for in his royal city.