In the magnificent hall where the splendor of kings, demons, and gods—arranged in wondrous variety by the Creator—shone brightly, Krishna stood beside Draupadi, the daughter of Drupada. There, the heart of Kururaja, Duryodhana, was ensnared and tormented, unable to bear the glory before him. At that time, a thousand queens of Krishna, with their graceful forms and softly tinkling anklets, surrounded him. Their radiant faces were adorned with crimson necklaces, beautiful earrings, and flowing hair, enhancing the brilliance of the scene. Within the assembly hall built by Maya, Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma and emperor, sat surrounded by his followers, kinsmen, and Krishna himself, who watched all with his own eyes. Seated upon a golden throne, Yudhishthira shone like Indra, endowed with supreme prosperity, and was praised by bards. Duryodhana, proud and surrounded by his brothers, wore a crown and garland, and sat with sword in hand. In anger, he cast the sword down. Confused by Maya’s illusion, he reached for the edge of a garment on the floor, thinking it was water, but it was dry; and in the water, he mistook it for solid ground. Bewildered, he became the object of laughter—Bhima laughed at his confusion, as did the women and other kings. Though the king attempted to restrain them, Krishna approved their laughter. Ashamed, with his face downcast and burning with anger, Duryodhana silently departed for Gajaha. A great cry of 'Alas!' arose among the virtuous, and Yudhishthira 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 about—the wickedness of Suyodhana at the great Rajasuya sacrifice. Thus ends the seventy-fifth chapter, called 'The Humbling of Duryodhana’s Pride,' in the tenth canto, second half, of the glorious Bhagavata Purana, the scripture of the supreme swans. Now, O King, hear another wondrous deed of Krishna—how the playful, bodyless Lord slew the lord of Saubha. Shalva, a friend of Shishupala, had come to the wedding of Rukmini. He, along with Jarasandha and others, was defeated in battle by the Yadus. Stung by defeat, Shalva made a vow before all the assembled kings: “I will rid the earth of the Yadavas—witness my valor.” Having made such a foolish vow, Shalva worshipped the Lord, master of creatures, by swallowing a handful of dust just once. At the end of a year, the gracious Lord Shiva, husband of Uma and easily pleased, offered a boon to Shalva, who had come to him for refuge. Shalva asked for a vehicle, terrifying to the Vrishnis, which could go anywhere at will and could not be destroyed by gods, demons, humans, Gandharvas, serpents, or Rakshasas. “So be it,” said Shiva. As instructed by him, 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 its suburbs and gardens. The gates and their towers, palaces, balconies, pleasure grounds, and lofty mansions—all were struck by showers of weapons. Stones, trees, thunderbolts, serpents, and gravel rained down, and a fierce whirlwind arose, covering the directions with dust. Krishna’s city was severely harassed by Saubha, finding no peace, just as the earth had suffered when attacked by Tripura. Seeing his own people afflicted, the glorious and heroic Pradyumna mounted his chariot and reassured them: “Do not fear!” Satyaki, Charudeshna, Samba, Akrura with his younger brother, Hardikya, Bhanuvinda, Gada, Shuka, Sarana, and others—great archers and commanders—joined him, armed and protected, with chariots, elephants, horses, and infantry. Then a tumultuous and hair-raising battle began between the Shalvas and the Yadus, reminiscent of the battles between gods and demons. Pradyumna, son of Rukmini, wielded divine weapons, destroying all the magical illusions of the lord of Saubha in a moment, just as the sun dispels the darkness of night. He pierced the commander of Shalva’s army with twenty-five arrows—shafts golden, tips iron, joints well made. With a hundred arrows he struck Shalva himself, with single arrows his soldiers, ten arrows each for their leaders, and three arrows for each of their vehicles. Witnessing this wondrous and mighty feat of the great-souled Pradyumna, all soldiers—both friend and foe—honored him. The creation of Maya, made of illusion, appeared in many forms and in one form; it was seen and not seen, impossible for the enemy to comprehend. At times on the ground, at times in the sky, on mountain peaks, and sometimes in the water, Saubha, in its dire condition, spun about like a wheel of firebrands. Wherever Shalva, with his Saubha and army, was perceived, the chiefs of the Sātvatas released their arrows. Afflicted by missiles blazing like fire and sun, and as deadly as venomous serpents, Shalva’s forces became bewildered. Though greatly tormented by 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, approached with a heavy mace, struck him, and roared mightily. Pradyumna, subduer of enemies, his chest shattered by the mace, was carried away from the battlefield by his charioteer, the righteous son of Daruka. Regaining consciousness after a moment, Pradyumna said to his charioteer: “Ah, how improper it is, O charioteer, that you have withdrawn me from the battle! Never has it been heard that one born in the Yadu dynasty has left the battlefield—except for a charioteer whose mind is unmanly and who has incurred sin. What shall I say when I approach my fathers, Rama and Krishna, having retreated from battle? When questioned there, what answer will be fitting for me?