Through the strength of his righteousness, knowledge, detachment, prosperity, austerity, learning, and action, the Lord manifested all that was needed for battle: the mighty chariot, its charioteer, the banner, swift horses, bow, armor, arrows, and every other implement. Fully armed, he mounted the chariot, took up his bow and arrow, and, with a single motion, fitted the arrow to the bow. In that instant, the Lord of Victory was prepared. With that one arrow, O King, Hara—the destroyer—burned to ashes the three impregnable cities that none could conquer. In the heavens, celestial drums resounded, and the skies filled with hundreds of divine chariots. The gods, sages, ancestors, and perfected beings rejoiced, showering flowers and proclaiming his victory, while the hosts of Apsaras danced in delight. Having thus destroyed the three cities, the Lord, praised by Brahma and all the gods, returned to his own abode, his task complete. In this way, the deeds of Hari—who, by his own power, playfully enacts the ways of mortals—are sung by the sages. What more can be said, for such stories purify the world. Sūta continued: As the Lord approached the lands of Ānarta and his own prosperous regions, he blew his resounding conch, its mighty sound dispelling the sorrow of the people. That conch, white-bellied and high-pitched, touched by the Lord’s reddish lower lip and blown from his lotus-like hand, sounded like the call of a swan gliding upon a pond of lotuses. Hearing that fear-dispelling blast, all the people, eager to behold their beloved Lord, hurried forth. Gathered together, their strength renewed, they honored him as one would a lamp in darkness—ever content and fulfilled by his very presence. With faces blooming with joy, they spoke in voices choked by happiness, as children would to a father who is both their protector and their dearest friend: “We bow to you, Master, whose lotus feet are always worshipped by Brahma, Shiva, and Indra. You are the supreme refuge for all who seek well-being, a haven untouched even by mighty time itself. For our welfare, you are the creator, sustainer, and protector of the universe; our mother, friend, lord, and father; our true teacher and highest deity. By following you, we have become accomplished. “Ah, how blessed we are by your presence! Even the gods of heaven rarely behold what we see: your face, radiant with loving smiles and glances, your form adorned with every auspicious sign. O lotus-eyed one, whenever you departed for the Kurus or the Madhus to visit your friends, each moment felt as long as millions of ages, like eyes bereft of the sun, O Acyuta.” As the people spoke thus, the Lord, ever affectionate to his devotees, listened and bestowed his gracious glance upon them, then entered the city. Protected by the mighty clans—the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Kukuras, Andhakas, and Vrishnis, whose strength equaled his own—he made the city secure, as serpents guard their realm of Bhogavati. In every season, the city flourished with prosperity, surrounded by auspicious trees, creepers, hermitages, gardens, parks, and lotus-filled ponds, shining with splendor. At the gates, doorways, and roads, festive arches were constructed, adorned with colorful flags and banners, shielding the city from harsh sunlight. The grand avenues, streets, markets, and squares were swept clean, sprinkled with fragrant water, and decorated with fruits, flowers, and grains. At each house, the doors were adorned with full pots, yogurt, grains, fruits, sugarcane, incense, and lamps. Hearing that their beloved was arriving, Vasudeva, noble-minded Akrura, Ugrasena, Rama of wondrous prowess, Pradyumna, Charudeshna, Samba son of Jambavati, and all the others, overwhelmed with joy, abandoned their beds, seats, and meals. Placing the lordly elephant at the front, accompanied by Brahmins chanting auspicious hymns and the sounds of conch shells and trumpets, and honored by the chanting of Vedic mantras, they joyfully approached in chariots, moved by affection and awe. Hundreds of leading elephants, eager for his sight, with shining earrings and radiant faces, added to the splendor of the procession. Dancers, actors, Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers sang of the wondrous deeds and stories of the illustrious Lord. Amid his relatives and the citizens who followed him, the Blessed Lord approached each according to custom, honoring all. With humble greetings, embraces, hand-touches, and smiling glances, he comforted those who had been away and granted desired boons to others. He himself, with elders, priests, wives, and aged relatives, received blessings and entered the city, accompanied by singers. As Krishna proceeded along the royal road of Dvaraka, the noble women of the city ascended to the rooftops of their mansions, eager for the great festival of beholding him. Though the residents of Dvaraka gazed upon him constantly, their eyes were never satisfied, for he is the very abode of fortune and the source of all beauty. His chest is the dwelling place of fortune, his face the drinking vessel for the eyes, his arms the guardians of the world, and his lotus feet the refuge of the virtuous. Adorned with white parasols and fans, showered with fresh flowers along his path, clad in yellow garments and a forest garland, he shone like the sun surrounded by clouds, rainbow, and lightning. Entering his parents’ house, he was embraced by his mothers; bowing his head joyfully to Devaki and the other seven, he received their love. Those mothers, their breasts wet from affection, lifted their son onto their laps and, overwhelmed with joy, bathed him with tears streaming from their eyes. Then he entered his own unsurpassed palace, fulfilling every desire, where there were sixteen thousand mansions for his wives. After being separated from their husband and now seeing him return, his wives rose at once from their seats and beds, their hearts filled with joy as if at a festival, their faces and eyes cast down in modesty due to their vows. Though their feelings were difficult to restrain, those noble ladies of the Bhṛgu line embraced their husband with their children, gazing at him with inner longing; even as they tried to hold back, tears flowed from their eyes out of bashful emotion. Even when he was beside them in private, his feet seemed ever new to them at every step. What woman could ever turn away from his feet, when even the restless goddess of fortune never leaves them? In this way, after causing enmity among the kings—who were born as the earth’s burden and whose power was turned against each other in war—he, like the wind extinguishing fire, brought about their mutual destruction and then stood apart, weaponless.