Having spoken words of challenge, the Lord Krishna, filled with fury, struck Shalva upon the chest with his mighty mace. The force was terrible; Shalva trembled under the blow and vomited blood. Yet, when the mace was repelled, Shalva vanished from sight. In the next moment, a man approached Achyuta—Krishna—bowed before him, and, weeping, spoke: “I am sent by Devaki.” He said, “Krishna, Krishna, mighty-armed one, your father, who loves you dearly, has been bound and carried away by Shalva and his men, like a beast.” Hearing these grievous words, Krishna, overcome by affection, assumed a human disposition. He became dejected and compassionate, speaking as an ordinary man would: “How could my father, mighty and unconcerned Rama—who was unconquered by gods and demons—be carried away by Shalva, a mere lesser man? Such is the power of fate.” As Govinda spoke thus, the lord of Saubha appeared, bringing Krishna as Vasudeva had been brought, and spoke: “Here is your father, the one for whom you live in this world. I will kill him before your eyes. If you are the Lord, protect him, O foolish one.” 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, the great-souled one, was overcome by his natural affection, surrounded by his own people. But he soon realized that this was a demonic illusion, conjured by Shalva at Maya’s instruction. Awakened on the battlefield, Achyuta saw neither the messenger nor his father’s body. Like a man waking from a dream, he beheld his enemy in the sky, stationed on Saubha, ready to strike. Thus do some sages, O royal sage, speak—yet if their words contradict themselves, surely they do not truly remember. Where are grief and delusion, affection or fear—born of ignorance—and where is your unbroken wisdom, your undiminished knowledge and lordship? By serving his feet and gaining self-knowledge, the wise destroy the beginningless grip of self-delusion. They attain their own infinite lordship—how could confusion touch one who has reached the Supreme? Then, as Shalva attacked with a multitude of weapons, the mighty Krishna, whose valor never fails, struck him with arrows, shattering his armor, bow, and crown, and smashed the Saubha fortress of his enemy with his mace. Struck by Krishna’s mace, the Saubha, crushed by his hand, fell into the water in a thousand pieces. Abandoning it, Shalva took up his mace, stood on the ground, and swiftly rushed at Achyuta. As Shalva charged with his mace, Krishna severed his arm with a razor-sharp arrow, then took up his wondrous discus, blazing like the sun at the end of time, to slay Shalva, shining like the sun rising from the eastern mountain. With that very discus, Hari struck off the head of the master of illusions, adorned with earrings and crown, just as Indra slew Vritra with his thunderbolt. Then, among men, there arose cries of “Alas!” When that wicked one fell and Saubha was destroyed by the mace, celestial drums resounded in the sky, played by the hosts of gods. Dantavakra, in 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 killing of Dantavakra and Viduratha, and the beheading of Suta by Balarama—thus begins the seventy-eighth chapter. Shuka said: The wickedness of Shishupala, Shalva, Paundraka, and others, even after they had departed this world, was met by Krishna with transcendental friendship. Then, a single foot-soldier, furious and wielding a mace, shaking the earth as he came, was seen approaching, O great king, with immense strength. Seeing him advancing in this way, Krishna quickly seized his mace, leapt down 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.” Thus, 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. Though struck on the battlefield with the mace, the foremost of the Yadus did not move; and Krishna, with his own mace Kaumodaki, struck him in the chest. His heart shattered by the blow of the mace, blood gushed from his mouth; spreading out his hair, arms, and legs, he fell lifeless to the ground. Then, a most subtle and wondrous light entered Krishna, as all beings looked on—just as happened at the slaying of Shishupala, O King. Viduratha, his brother, overwhelmed with grief for him, came forward with sword and shield, breathing heavily, intent on killing Krishna. As he rushed forward, Krishna, with his discus whose edge is sharp as a razor, cut off his head—along with its crown and earrings, O King. Thus, having slain Shalva, Saubha, Dantavakra and his brother—foes unbearable to others—he was praised by the gods and men. By sages, perfected beings, Gandharvas, Vidyādharas, great serpents, Apsarās, hosts of ancestors, Yakṣas, Kinnaras, and Cāraṇas. His victory was sung by them, and he was showered with flowers; surrounded by the foremost of the Vṛṣṇis, 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. He visited Prithudaka, Bindusaras, Tritakupa, Sudarshana, Vishala, Brahmatirtha, Chakra, and the eastern Sarasvati. Following the Yamuna and then the Ganga, O Bharata, he went to Naimisha, where the sages were engaged in a sacrificial session. Seeing him arrive, the sages, engaged in their long sacrifice, welcomed him according to custom, rose up, bowed, and honored him.