In the heat of battle, Shalva, burning with rage, hurled accusations at Krishna: “Fool! Because of you, our friend—my brother-in-law—was slain in the assembly, his wife abducted, and you acted recklessly! Today, if you dare face me, I will send you, who pride yourself on being invincible, down the path of no return with my sharp arrows.” To this, the Blessed Lord replied, his voice calm and resolute, “You boast in vain, dull-witted one. You do not see Death standing near you. True heroes reveal their valor through deeds, not through empty words.” With these words, Krishna, filled with fury, struck Shalva’s chest with his mighty mace. The force was so terrible that Shalva trembled and vomited blood. Yet, as Krishna’s mace was repelled, Shalva vanished from sight. In the next moment, a man approached Krishna, bowed, and weeping, spoke: “I am sent by Devaki. Krishna, Krishna, mighty-armed one! Your beloved father has been seized and bound by Shalva and his men—carried away like a beast.” Hearing this grievous news, Krishna, overwhelmed by affection, assumed the emotions of a mortal man. His heart heavy with compassion, he spoke as any son would: “How could my father, the mighty and unconcerned Rama, unconquered by gods and demons, be carried away by Shalva, a mere lesser man? Such is the power of fate.” Even as Govinda spoke thus, the lord of Saubha appeared, and, bringing Krishna as Vasudeva had been brought, declared, “Here is your father, the one for whom you live. I shall kill him before your eyes. If you are truly the Lord, protect him, foolish one!” Thus rebuking Krishna, the deceiver drew his sword, seized Anakadundubhi’s head, and, taking it, entered the Saubha fortress in the sky. For a moment, Krishna, surrounded by his people, was overcome by his natural affection and grief. But soon, he realized this was no reality, but a demonic illusion conjured by Shalva at Maya’s instruction. Awakened on the battlefield, Achyuta saw neither messenger nor father’s body—like a man waking from a dream, he beheld only his enemy in the sky, stationed upon the Saubha, poised to attack. Thus do some sages speak, O royal sage, but if their words contradict themselves, surely they do not truly remember. Where is room for grief, delusion, affection, or fear—born of ignorance—in one whose wisdom and knowledge remain undiminished, whose lordship is unbroken? By serving the Lord’s feet and gaining self-knowledge, the wise destroy the beginningless grip of self-delusion and attain their own infinite lordship. How could confusion ever touch one who has reached the Supreme? As Shalva attacked with a multitude of weapons, Krishna, ever valiant, struck him with arrows, shattering his armor, bow, and crown. With his mace, Krishna smashed the Saubha fortress. Struck by Krishna’s hand, the Saubha was crushed and fell into the waters in a thousand pieces. Abandoning the wreck, Shalva took up his mace, stood on the ground, and rushed at Achyuta. As Shalva charged, Krishna severed his arm with a razor-sharp arrow. Then, taking up his wondrous discus, blazing like the sun at the end of time, Krishna shone like the rising sun as he prepared to slay Shalva. With that discus, Hari struck off the head of the master of illusions, adorned with earrings and crown, just as Indra slew Vritra with his thunderbolt. Cries of “Alas!” rose among men. With the fall of that wicked one and the destruction of Saubha, celestial drums resounded in the sky, played by the hosts of gods. Then Dantavakra, burning with anger, came forward to avenge his friend. Thus ends the seventy-seventh chapter, called “The Slaying of Shalva,” in the tenth book, second half, of the great and sacred Bhagavata Purana. The next chapter begins: The killing of Dantavakra and Viduratha, and the beheading of Suta by Balarama. Shuka said: Even after the deaths of Shishupala, Shalva, Paundraka, and others, Krishna met their wickedness with transcendental friendship. Then, a single foot-soldier, furious and wielding a mace, shaking the earth with his immense strength, was seen approaching, O great king. Seeing him advance, Krishna swiftly seized his own mace, leapt from his chariot, and confronted him like the ocean meets the shore. Raising his mace, the Kārūṣa, arrogant with pride, spoke to Mukunda: “By fortune, by great fortune, you have today come within my sight! You are our maternal uncle, O Krishna, yet you seek to kill me, your friend and ally. Therefore, O fool, I shall strike you down with my mace, hard as a thunderbolt. Then I shall be free of my debt, O friend of friends, by slaying an enemy who appears as a relative—just as one destroys a disease dwelling in the body.” With harsh words that stung like goads, he assailed Krishna as one would prod an elephant, and struck him on the head with his mace, roaring like a lion. Yet, though struck on the battlefield, the foremost of the Yadus did not move. Krishna, with his own mace Kaumodaki, struck him in the chest. The blow shattered his heart; blood gushed from his mouth, and, his hair, arms, and legs spread out, he fell lifeless to the ground. Then, a most subtle and wondrous light emerged from the fallen Dantavakra and entered Krishna, as all beings looked on—just as happened at the slaying of Shishupala, O King. Viduratha, his brother, overwhelmed with grief, rushed forward with sword and shield, intent on killing Krishna. As he attacked, Krishna, with his discus sharp as a razor, cut off Viduratha’s head—along with its crown and earrings. Thus, having slain Shalva, Saubha, Dantavakra, and his brother—foes unbearable to others—Krishna was praised by gods and men, by sages, perfected beings, Gandharvas, Vidyadharas, great serpents, Apsaras, hosts of ancestors, Yakshas, Kinnaras, and Charanas. Their voices sang his victory, and he was showered with flowers. Surrounded by the foremost of the Vrishnis, he entered the adorned city. Thus Krishna, the Lord of Yoga, the Blessed One, Lord of the universe, is perceived by those of animal vision as being conquered or victorious. Hearing of the preparations for war between the Kurus and the Pandavas, Rama, under the pretext of pilgrimage, departed, remaining neutral. Having bathed at Prabhasa and satisfied the gods, sages, ancestors, and men, he traveled upstream along the Sarasvati, accompanied by brahmanas.