As the fierce battle raged on, Krishna repelled Shalva’s mighty mace. In that very instant, Shalva vanished from sight. Suddenly, a man approached Achyuta—Krishna—bowed low before him, and, weeping bitterly, spoke these words: “I am sent by Devaki.” “Krishna, Krishna, mighty-armed one,” he cried, “your beloved father has been seized—bound and carried away by Shalva and his followers, like an animal led off to slaughter.” Hearing this grievous news, Krishna, overwhelmed with filial love, allowed himself to feel the sorrow of a human heart. Dejected and compassionate, he spoke as any ordinary man would: “How could my father, and my powerful and unconcerned brother Rama—who have never been conquered by gods or demons—be carried away by Shalva, who is but a lesser man? Such, indeed, is the mysterious power of fate.” As Govinda spoke these words, the lord of the Saubha fortress suddenly appeared before him. Mimicking the manner in which Vasudeva had been captured, Shalva presented Krishna’s father and spoke menacingly: “Here is your father, the very one for whom you live in this world. I shall kill him before your very eyes. If you are truly the Lord, then save him, O foolish one.” Thus taunting Krishna, the deceitful Shalva drew his sword, seized Anakadundubhi’s head, and, brandishing it, vanished into the sky-bound fortress of Saubha. For a brief moment, Krishna, the great-souled one, was overcome by natural affection, surrounded as he was by his own people. But soon, the truth dawned upon him—this was a demonic illusion, conjured by Shalva at the bidding of Maya. Awakening to reality on the battlefield, Achyuta saw neither the messenger nor his father’s body. It was as if waking from a troubling dream. He now beheld his enemy, Shalva, stationed aloft on the Saubha fortress, ready to strike. Some sages, O royal sage, speak in this way—yet if their words contradict themselves, surely they do not truly remember. Where, indeed, are grief and delusion, affection or fear—those children of ignorance—for one whose wisdom is unbroken, whose knowledge and lordship are undiminished? By serving at Krishna’s feet and attaining self-knowledge, the wise destroy the beginningless grip of delusion. They attain their own infinite lordship—how could confusion touch one who has reached the Supreme? Now, as Shalva attacked with a multitude of weapons, the mighty Krishna, whose valor never fails, countered with a rain of arrows. He shattered Shalva’s armor, bow, and crown, and with his mace, smashed the Saubha fortress itself. Struck by Krishna’s mace, the Saubha, crushed by his divine hand, fell in a thousand pieces into the waters below. Abandoning his ruined fortress, Shalva seized his mace, leapt to the ground, and charged swiftly at Achyuta. As Shalva rushed forward, 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 prepared to slay Shalva, who shone like the rising sun. With that very discus, Hari struck off the head of the master of illusions, adorned with earrings and crown, just as Indra once slew Vritra with his thunderbolt. Cries of “Alas!” echoed among the people. With Shalva fallen and Saubha destroyed by Krishna’s mace, celestial drums resounded in the heavens, played by hosts of gods. Yet even as the gods rejoiced, Dantavakra, burning with anger, stepped forth to avenge his friend. Thus ends the seventy-seventh chapter, “The Slaying of Shalva,” in the sacred Bhagavata Purana. Now begins the seventy-eighth chapter, recounting the deaths of Dantavakra, Viduratha, and the beheading of Suta by Balarama. Shuka said: Even after Shishupala, Shalva, Paundraka, and others had left this world, Krishna met their hostility with transcendental friendship. Then, a single foot-soldier, furious and wielding a mace, shaking the earth with each step, approached with immense strength. Seeing him advance, Krishna swiftly seized his own mace, leapt down from his chariot, and stood ready, like the ocean confronting the shore. Raising his mace, the Kārūṣa, proud and arrogant, addressed Mukunda: “By fortune, by great fortune, you have come within my sight today. 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. But though struck in battle, the foremost of the Yadus did not move. Krishna, with his own mace Kaumodaki, struck Dantavakra in the chest. His heart shattered by the blow, blood gushed from Dantavakra’s mouth; his hair, arms, and legs spread out, he fell lifeless to the ground. Then, before the eyes of all, a subtle and wondrous light departed his body and entered Krishna—just as had occurred when Shishupala was slain. Viduratha, Dantavakra’s brother, overwhelmed with grief, rushed forward with sword and shield, intent on avenging his brother. As he attacked, Krishna, with his razor-sharp discus, cut off his head—crown and earrings and all. Thus, having slain Shalva, destroyed Saubha, and killed Dantavakra and his brother—foes unbearable to others—Krishna was praised by gods and men alike. Sages, perfected beings, Gandharvas, Vidyadharas, great serpents, Apsaras, hosts of ancestors, Yakshas, Kinnaras, and Charanas all sang his victory and showered him with flowers. Surrounded by the foremost of the Vrishnis, Krishna entered the beautifully adorned city. Thus Krishna, the Lord of Yoga, the Blessed One, Lord of the universe, is seen by those of limited vision as sometimes conquered, sometimes victorious. Meanwhile, hearing of the preparations for war between the Kurus and the Pandavas, Balarama, under the pretext of pilgrimage, departed, choosing to remain neutral. Having bathed at Prabhasa and satisfied the gods, sages, ancestors, and men, he traveled upstream along the Sarasvati, accompanied by brahmanas. He visited holy places: Prithudaka, Bindusaras, Tritakupa, Sudarshana, Vishala, Brahmatirtha, Chakra, and the eastern Sarasvati. Following the Yamuna, and then the Ganga, he journeyed to Naimisha, where sages were engaged in a great sacrificial session. Seeing Balarama arrive, the sages, intent on their long sacrifice, rose up, bowed, and honored him according to tradition. Thus welcomed, along with his attendants, and having accepted the offered seat, Balarama beheld Romaharshana, the disciple of the great sage, seated among them.