When the wrestlers’ strength was overcome and their defeat was clear, the king, sword in hand, rose in anger and resolve. Yet, recognizing the king’s intent, the lord of the earth compassionately restrained him, preventing further bloodshed. In the ninth year, among the descendants of Krishna, the young princes, filled with delight, approached the king. They honored him with words of praise, offering salutations: “O foremost of kings, bestower of all joy, we bow to you.” Pleased by their reverence, the king replied, “So be it,” granting their request. With joy, he gifted them beings born from the womb of a deer, just as you have heard, O Sūta, in the tale of the mare and the deer. These wondrous beings had come to Bhīṣmasiṃha from Indra, the lord of the gods. Adorned with divine ornaments, they moved freely through the sky and water, their forms resplendent and celestial. Bhīṣmasiṃha himself had devoted twelve years in service to the Sun, performing rigorous austerities. At the end of his penance, he bowed to the Sun, saying, “O Lord, I bow to you; if you wish to grant a boon—” The Sun, pleased, replied, “So be it,” and gifted him a papihaka bird. Thus, Papihaka became the protector of the worlds, appointed by the Sun’s own grace. Overcome by desire, Papihaka united with the deer, and from their union were born swift and noble horses. From the doe emerged three: Megha, Pushpa, and Balāhaka. These four, with divine forms, had previously been born as mighty beings in another age. Thus, O sage, you have heard of these wondrous births. Listen further to the auspicious tale that follows. To Devasiṃha, the strong and valorous, the king gave a horse as he most desired. To his son Brahmananda, he granted the city of deer. Balakhani, another prince, mounted the beautiful white mare gifted to him. Filled with joy and courage, he slew a tiger, terrifying to all living beings. Brahmananda, too, proved his might by slaying a deer in the great forest. Meanwhile, the goddess Sharada, radiant and beautiful, appeared before them. Seeing her, all were enchanted by her beauty and, in their astonishment, struck her with their own arrows. The heroes, led by Ahlada, were amazed at the goddess’s presence and their own actions. Afflicted and fearful, the goddess fled into the depths of the forest. There, she assumed her true, divine form. Before disappearing, the auspicious goddess Sharada spoke: “Whenever you are overcome by fear, remember me always.” With these compassionate words, she vanished from their sight. Witnessing the valor of his sons and the wondrous events, the king’s heart was filled with joy. In the delightful season of spring, the princes went to a pleasure garden. There, they observed vows and practices for Mādhava, the beloved of Krishna, offering flowers, incense, and lamps according to the prescribed rites of the season. They lived simply, subsisting on roots, tubers, and fruits, careful to avoid harm to any living beings. Pleased with their devotion, the goddess bestowed a beautiful boon upon them. She granted knowledge of time to the god, and knowledge of Brahman to the king. Having fulfilled their purpose, the princes and their companions returned to their own homes. In time, a son was born to her—a dark-complexioned child, bearing auspicious marks, and a portion of Sātyaki. When the month of Āṣāḍha arrived, another was born—a portion of Krishna himself, horse-borne and radiant. Beholding their beautiful city, flourishing and attended by all four social orders, the king performed acts of generosity. He gave gold to the twice-born, satisfying both the Brahmins and the gods, ensuring the prosperity and righteousness of his people.