At that time, the land was troubled by the presence of many feudatory chiefs. Speaking of this, a powerful figure, filled with anger, took up the Vaishnava weapon against them, determined to assert his authority. When the great king heard of this, fear gripped his heart, for he knew the gravity of the situation. To strengthen his position, various wrestlers—renowned and honored—were summoned by the king. Among those present was the king’s nephew, the son of the lord of the earth, a youth of sixteen years whose strength was already well known. This young man, after bowing respectfully to the king—his maternal uncle, mighty Abhaya—stood ready for what was to come. Abhaya, skilled in the arts of battle and filled with affection for his sister’s son, spoke kindly to him: “How can one as powerful as a thunderbolt be compared to this tender youth?” These words moved the king, reminding him of his own role as lord of the earth. He recalled the circumstances that had led him to learn of this remarkable child. Wishing to understand the child’s destiny, the king summoned learned men and, in joy, asked them to determine the most auspicious moment for his future. The learned ones examined the child’s marks and spoke supreme words: “This son of the regional king is worthy of the Krishna lineage.” Hearing this, the heroic Lakṣaṇa set out once more for Barhiṣmatī, as he had done in times past, and there established his own kingdom in the northern reaches of the Naimisha forest. During the festival of serpents, on the fifth day beneath a clear sky, a significant event unfolded. Krishna’s descendant, stung by harsh words, acted swiftly. Mighty and resolute, he seized safety in his arms and prepared for battle. In the brief clash that followed, he cast his opponent down in the midst of the battlefield. The king, seeing his own son fallen and unconscious, rushed forward with sword in hand. Sensing the king’s wrath, Krishna’s descendant grew even more powerful. When the wrestlers’ strength had been overcome, the king, still brandishing his sword, was held back by the lord of the earth, who recognized the king’s state and restrained him. In the ninth year, among Krishna’s descendants, the young princes, delighted, offered salutations: “Salutations to you, O foremost king, bestower of all joy.” Hearing their words, the king replied, “So be it.” Filled with happiness, the king granted them those wondrous beings born from the womb of the deer, just as you have heard, O Sūta, like the mare that came from the deer. These extraordinary beings came to Bhīṣmasiṃha from Indra, the lord of the gods. Adorned with divine ornaments, they moved effortlessly through sky and water. Sūta continued: One of them performed service to the Sun for twelve years, seeking divine favor. He prayed, “O Lord, I bow to you; if you wish to grant a boon—” The Sun, pleased, said, “So be it,” and gifted him a papihaka bird. Thus, the one named Papihaka became the guardian of the worlds. Overcome by desire, he united with her, and from this union, horses were born. From the doe were born Megha, Pushpa, and Balāhaka—four, each with divine forms, who in former times had been mighty beings. So, O sage, you have now heard this tale. Listen further to the auspicious story that followed. To Devasiṃha, the strong one, a horse was given, fulfilling his heart’s desire. To his son, Brahmananda, the city of deer was bestowed. Balakhani mounted a beautiful white mare, and in a moment of triumph, the joy-filled hero slew the tiger, a terror to all living beings.