King Yudhishthira, filled with affection, bid farewell to his friends, relatives, and kinsmen, his heart heavy with reluctance as he parted even from Krishna. The Blessed Lord Krishna, ever the source of joy for His loved ones, lingered there for a time, having sent the heroic Yadus—including Samba and others—back to Kusasthali. With Krishna’s help, Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, was able to cross the vast ocean of his cherished desires—a journey so difficult to traverse—and thus found himself free from distress. Yet, within the palace, Duryodhana beheld the splendor all around him, and his heart was tormented by the greatness of the Rajasuya sacrifice and the glory of Lord Achyuta. In that place, the wealth of kings, demons, and gods—arranged in wondrous ways by the Creator—shone forth. Krishna stood beside Draupadi, the daughter of Drupada, and Kururaja’s heart became ensnared, suffering from envy. At that moment, a thousand queens of Madhupati, their hips heavy and anklets softly tinkling, surrounded Krishna, whose radiant face was adorned with crimson necklaces, beautiful earrings, and flowing locks. Within the assembly hall built by Maya, Yudhishthira, the emperor, sat surrounded by followers, kinsmen, and Krishna Himself, who watched with His own eyes. Seated upon a golden throne, like Indra, endowed with supreme prosperity, Yudhishthira was praised by bards. Duryodhana, proud and flanked by his brothers, wearing a crown and garland, sat with a sword in hand, casting it down in anger. As he walked upon the floor, he grasped the edge of a garment, thinking it was water, though it was dry; and when he stepped into water, he mistook it for solid ground, bewildered by Maya’s illusion. Bhima laughed at him, as did the women and other kings, though Yudhishthira tried to restrain them. Krishna, however, approved their laughter. Ashamed, Duryodhana left silently for Gajaha, his face downcast and burning with anger. A great cry of “Alas!” arose among the virtuous, and Ajatasatru was troubled in mind. The Blessed Lord remained silent, wishing to relieve the earth’s burden, and watched with wandering eyes. O King, thus have I told you what you asked—the wickedness of Suyodhana at the great Rajasuya sacrifice. So ends the seventy-fifth chapter, called “The Humbling of Duryodhana’s Pride,” in the tenth canto, second half, of the glorious Bhagavata Purana. Now, O King, hear another wondrous deed of Krishna. Shri Shuka continued: listen to how the playful, bodyless Lord slew the lord of Saubha. Shalva, a friend of Shishupala, had come to the wedding of Rukmini; he was defeated in battle by the Yadus, as were Jarasandha and others. Shalva then made a vow before all the kings: “I will make the earth free of the Yadavas—witness my valor.” Thus, having spoken such a foolish vow, he worshipped the Lord, the master of creatures, by swallowing a handful of dust just once. At the end of a year, the gracious Lord Shiva, the husband of Uma, easily pleased, offered a boon to Shalva, who had come to him for refuge. Shalva chose a vehicle, terrifying to the Vrishnis, which could go anywhere at will and could not be broken by gods, demons, humans, Gandharvas, serpents, or Rakshasas. “So be it,” said Girisha. As instructed by Shiva, Maya, the conqueror of enemy cities, constructed an iron city called Saubha and gave it to Shalva. Having obtained this wish-fulfilling, formidable, and impenetrable vehicle, Shalva set out for Dvaravati, remembering his enmity with the Vrishnis. O best of the Bharatas, Shalva besieged the city with his great army, destroying all the suburbs and gardens. The gates with their towers, the palaces, balconies, pleasure grounds, and lofty mansions—all were struck by showers of weapons. Stones, trees, thunderbolts, serpents, and showers of gravel fell, while a fierce whirlwind arose, covering the directions with dust. Thus, as Krishna’s city was being severely harassed by Saubha, it found no peace, just as the earth did when attacked by Tripura. Seeing his own people afflicted, the glorious and heroic Pradyumna mounted his chariot and declared, “Do not fear!” Satyaki, Charudeshna, Samba, Akrura with his younger brother, Hardikya, Bhanuvinda, Gada, Shuka, Sarana, and many others—great archers and commanders of chariot divisions—went out, armed and protected, with chariots, elephants, horses, and infantry. A tumultuous and hair-raising battle erupted between the Shalvas and the Yadus, reminiscent of the battles between gods and demons. Pradyumna, son of Rukmini, wielding divine weapons, destroyed in a moment all the magical illusions of the lord of Saubha, just as the sun dispels the darkness of night. He pierced the commander of Shalva’s army with twenty-five arrows, their shafts golden and tips of iron, their joints well made. With a hundred arrows he struck Shalva himself; with single arrows, his soldiers; with ten arrows each, their leaders; and with three arrows each, their vehicles. Witnessing this wondrous and mighty feat of the great-souled Pradyumna, all the soldiers—both friend and foe—honored him. That creation of Maya, made of illusion, appeared in many forms and in one form, was seen and not seen, and was impossible for the enemy to comprehend. At times on the ground, at times in the sky, on mountain peaks, and sometimes in the water, that Saubha, in its dire condition, spun about like a wheel of firebrands. Wherever Shalva, together with his Saubha and his army, was perceived, there the chiefs of the Sātvatas would release their arrows. Afflicted by arrows blazing like fire and the sun, as deadly as venomous serpents, Shalva’s forces became bewildered, driven by those missiles. Though greatly tormented by the torrents of weapons from Shalva’s army, the heroic Vrishnis did not abandon the battle, each intent on conquering both worlds. Dyuman, a minister of Shalva, who had previously overpowered Pradyumna, now approached with a heavy mace, struck him, and roared mightily.