Every day, the valiant and steadfast commander Talana took to the battlefield, never wavering in his duty. Under his relentless assault, the enemy’s warriors were struck with terror; their strength was shattered, and many kings fell before him. News of this devastation reached Jambuka, who, upon hearing it, was plunged into sorrow and returned to his home, his heart heavy. When midnight came, his daughter, filled with the desire for victory, set her mind to act. She comforted her grieving father, and, being skilled in the arts of illusion, prepared to depart on her mission. Her brothers soon joined her, and she awakened them all from their rest. She mounted her palanquin, and her relatives, unarmed and without armor, accompanied her. At dawn, when all were awake, they performed their bathing, meditation, and other sacred rites, preparing themselves for what lay ahead. With her mastery of illusion, she conjured a demoness, carried her off, and returned to her own house. On the Vindhya mountain, deep in a great forest teeming with creatures, dwelled Ilavila, fearless among demons and accomplished in yoga and desire. There, Jambuka’s daughter, accompanied daily by her own people, continued her work. She wove her illusion into a garment, designed to bewilder the minds of men. Hearing of this bewitching power, four—excluding Ahrada—ventured into the forest. Through singing, dancing, and various performances, they enchanted their target that day. Among these people, there was a tradition: when her marriage was to take place, a great villain would be slain. So, going to the head of the battle, they killed the heroes stationed there, as well as the moat-makers who had destroyed hundreds. In the aftermath, King Jambuka, mighty and blessed, performed a Shaiva sacrifice, invoking the names of those involved. Rupana, understanding the events, described Devaki, and in his mind swiftly sought refuge in the gracious Mother. The pleased Mother of the World, at the end of a dream, spoke of her. When King Jambuka, the mighty best of the blessed, learned of this, the goddess, having enchanted him, freed his sons from bondage. Hearing of this deliverance, the virtuous goddess bowed in reverence to Maheshvari. Meanwhile, the king, bewildered by divine illusion, was bound by strong iron fetters. At the same time, the three sons—Kaliya and his brothers—were also present. Once again, a fierce battle erupted between the two armies. The mighty ones confined three enemies in a cell and slew them with their own weapons. Kaliya, stricken with grief, remembered Hara in his heart. At that very moment, Devaki, ever devoted to her husband, awakened the portion of Krishna residing in the five-syllabled elephant. Pleased, the goddess joyfully awakened them: Ahlada, Suryavarman, and Kaliya, his younger brother. In a former birth, O Brahmin, Jarasandha had been with Kaliya. Trishiras was reborn as a jackal, and that jackal was Jambuka. When the sons of the enemy were slain, Devaki saw Jambuka, their foe. Out of deep affection, the portion of Krishna took the heads of his parents. Then, smiling, they exchanged sweet words, though their bodies were as if dead—yet speech arose between the two, so powerful was their bond. The goddess, sword in hand, placed the enemy within a stone mechanism. She commanded, “O sons, crush your father’s enemy, Jambuka, the vilest of men. Pulverize his body with those oils prepared from intoxication.” Obediently, the sons, along with the queen and her son, carried out the task. Then, the queen, noticing a fragrance, found her lord suffering and afflicted.