Upon hearing the grievous news, Krishna, overwhelmed by affection, took on a human demeanor. His heart was heavy with sorrow and compassion, and he spoke as any ordinary man might in such distress: “How could my father, the mighty and unconcerned Rama—who was never conquered by gods or demons—be carried away by Shalva, a mere lesser man? Such is the power of fate.” As Krishna spoke thus, the lord of Saubha, Shalva, appeared before him. Mimicking how Vasudeva had been brought, Shalva addressed Krishna with cruel words: “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.” With these harsh words, the deceiver drew his sword, seized Anakadundubhi’s head, and carried it away, vanishing into the Saubha fortress hovering in the sky. For a moment, Krishna, the great-souled one, was overcome by natural affection, surrounded by his own kin. But soon he realized this was nothing but a demonic illusion, conjured by Shalva at Maya’s instruction. Awakened on the battlefield, Achyuta saw that neither the messenger nor his father’s body was present. Like a man waking from a dream, he beheld his enemy in the sky, stationed on Saubha, poised to attack. Some sages speak in this way, O royal sage, 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? As Shalva attacked with a multitude of weapons, Krishna, whose valor never fails, struck him with arrows, shattering his armor, bow, and crown, and smashed the Saubha fortress with his mace. Struck by Krishna’s mace, the Saubha, crushed by his hand, fell into the water in a thousand pieces. Shalva abandoned it, took up his mace, and swiftly rushed at Achyuta. As Shalva charged, 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, 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 slew Vritra with his thunderbolt. Among men, cries of “Alas!” arose at the sight. When the wicked Shalva fell and Saubha was destroyed, celestial drums resounded in the sky, played by the hosts of gods. Dantavakra, angered, 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. Now begins the seventy-eighth chapter: The killing of Dantavakra and Viduratha, and the beheading of Suta by Balarama. Shuka said: The wickedness of Shishupala, Shalva, Paundraka, and others—even after they 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 approached, was seen coming with immense strength. Seeing him advance, 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.” With these harsh words, stinging 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, Krishna, the foremost of the Yadus, did not move. Krishna then struck him in the chest with his own mace, Kaumodakī. The blow shattered his heart; blood gushed from his mouth, and, 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. Viduratha, Dantavakra’s brother, overwhelmed with grief, came forward with sword and shield, breathing heavily, intent on killing Krishna. As he rushed forward, Krishna, with his discus whose edge was sharp as a razor, cut off his head—along with its crown and earrings. Thus, Krishna had slain Shalva, Saubha, Dantavakra, and his brother—foes unbearable to others. He was praised by 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 Prabhāsa and satisfied the gods, sages, ancestors, and men, he traveled upstream along the Sarasvatī, accompanied by brāhmaṇas. He visited Pṛthūdaka, Bindusaras, Tritakūpa, Sudarśana, Viśāla, Brahmatīrtha, Cakra, and the eastern Sarasvatī. Following the Yamunā and then the Ganga, he went to Naimiṣa, 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. Thus honored, together with his attendants, and having accepted the offered seat, he beheld Romaharṣaṇa, the disciple of the great sage, seated there. Seeing the sūta who did not rise, nor offer respectful folded hands, but remained seated, as did those brāhmaṇas, Mādhava became angry as he looked upon them. “Because this low-born man sits above these brāhmaṇas, the protectors of dharma, and above us as well, this wicked-minded one deserves death.