As the great battle unfolded, mighty archers and commanders of chariot divisions from both sides rode forth, fully armed and protected, leading their chariots, elephants, horses, and infantry into the fray. Soon, a tumultuous and hair-raising conflict erupted between the forces of Shalva and the Yadus, rivaling the legendary wars between the gods and the demons. Pradyumna, the valiant son of Rukmini, wielding divine weapons, shattered in an instant all the magical illusions conjured by the lord of Saubha, just as the radiant sun dispels the darkness of night. With remarkable skill, he pierced the commander of Shalva’s army with twenty-five well-crafted arrows, their shafts golden and tips of iron. He struck Shalva himself with a hundred arrows, dispatched single arrows at his soldiers, ten arrows each at their leaders, and three arrows at each of their vehicles. Astonished by this wondrous feat of valor, all the warriors—whether friend or foe—honored Pradyumna, recognizing his greatness. Yet, the creation of Maya, woven from illusion, continued to bewilder the enemy. It appeared in many forms and in one form, was seen and unseen, elusive and impossible to comprehend. Sometimes it was on the ground, sometimes in the sky, at times upon mountain peaks, and then again in the water—Saubha, in its dire condition, spun about like a wheel of firebrands, dazzling and confusing all. Wherever Shalva, his Saubha, and his army were perceived, the chiefs of the Sātvatas loosed their arrows. Afflicted by missiles blazing like fire and the sun, and as deadly as venomous serpents, Shalva’s forces became bewildered and driven back. Despite being tormented by volleys of weapons from Shalva’s army, the heroic Vṛṣṇis stood their ground, determined to conquer both worlds and refusing to abandon the fight. In the midst of this chaos, Dyumān, a minister of Shalva, who had previously overpowered Pradyumna, approached with a heavy mace. Striking Pradyumna and roaring mightily, he shattered the hero’s chest. Pradyumna, subdued and unconscious, was swiftly carried from the battlefield by his charioteer, the righteous son of Dāruka. After a moment, Pradyumna regained consciousness and, filled with indignation, rebuked his charioteer: “Alas, how improper it is, O charioteer, that you have withdrawn me from the battle!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, Rāma and Keśava, having retreated from battle? When questioned there, what answer will be fitting for me? Surely, my brothers’ wives will mock me, saying, ‘How, how did your cowardice, O hero, become known to others in battle?’” The charioteer replied with humility and wisdom: “O lord, knowing righteousness, I did this; a charioteer must protect a warrior in distress, just as a warrior must protect his charioteer. Knowing this, my lord, I withdrew you from the battle, for you had been struck by the enemy’s mace and had fallen unconscious.” Thus concluded the seventy-sixth chapter, “The Battle with Śālva,” in the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa. The story continued. After purifying himself, Pradyumna, bow in hand, spoke to his charioteer: “Take me to the side of Dyumān, the hero.” Smiling, Rukmiṇī’s son struck down Dyumān, who was attacking his own troops, with eight iron arrows. With precise shots, he struck Dyumān’s four horses, the charioteer, the bow and the banner, and finally the head. Meanwhile, Gada, Sātyaki, Sāmba, and other Yadus overwhelmed the forces of the lord of Saubha. The warriors of Saubha, their necks severed, fell into the sea. The slaughter was immense, and as the Yadus and Śālvas clashed, the fierce and tumultuous battle raged for twenty-seven days and nights. During this time, Krishna had been invited by the son of Dharma to Indraprastha. After the completion of the Rājasūya sacrifice and the slaying of Shishupala, Krishna took leave of the elders of the Kuru dynasty, the sages, Pritha, and her sons. Observing terrible omens, he returned to Dvārakā. There, he said, “I have come here, joined by noble friends; the kings allied with the Chedi are surely about to attack my city.” Witnessing the slaughter of his own people and arranging for the city’s defense, Keshava spoke to Daruka about Saubha and King Shalva. “Charioteer, bring my chariot quickly to Shalva’s presence; do not be alarmed, for this king of Saubha is a master of illusion.” Thus instructed, Daruka mounted the chariot and drove forth. All, both friend and foe, saw Arjuna’s younger brother entering the fray. Shalva, his forces nearly destroyed, saw Krishna and hurled a spear with a terrible roar at Krishna’s charioteer. That blazing weapon, streaking through the sky like a great meteor and illuminating the quarters, was shattered into a hundred pieces by Shauri’s arrows. Then Krishna pierced Shalva with sixteen arrows and struck the aerial city of Saubha as it moved in the sky, showering it with arrows as the sun bathes the world with its rays. Shalva, in turn, struck the left arm of Shauri and broke the Sharnga bow from his hand—a wondrous sight that caused a great outcry among all who witnessed it. Roaring loudly, the king of Saubha addressed Janardana: “Fool! Because of you, our friend—my brother-in-law—was slain in the assembly, his wife abducted, while you acted recklessly. Today, with sharp arrows, I will send you—who think yourself invincible—on a path of no return, if you dare stand before me!” The Blessed Lord replied, “In vain you boast, dull-witted one; you do not see Death standing near. True heroes show their valor in deeds, not in many words.” Having spoken thus, the Lord struck Shalva in his fury on the chest with his terrible mace. Shalva trembled and vomited blood, overwhelmed by the force of Krishna’s blow.