In that place, a remarkable desire arose simultaneously within the god Krishna’s portion and Bindula. Alongside them stood Balakhani, the brother of Hari, and Harinagara. As night fell, these mighty ones stealthily attacked the king’s army, slaying his forces and binding their lord as well. Soon after, their own army arrived—fearless, stronger, and resolute. With swift determination, they chained together the five deceitful kings, among whom was Netrasiṃha, the noble brother and lord of Sundarāraṇya. At that critical hour, Harānanda—renowned for his might in battle—arrived, and with him came Netrasiṃha’s formidable army, numbering four hundred thousand. The clash that ensued was fierce, with five hundred thousand warriors meeting seven hundred thousand on the field. The carnage was so great that half the enemy’s army, the survivors of the slaughter, fled in terror. Harānanda, astonished by the enemy’s strength and skilled in the mystical arts of Rudra, realized the gravity of the situation. He devoted himself to deep meditation on Śiva. Drawing upon the magic of Śambara, which allowed him to assume many forms, Harānanda transformed all the kings into stone and approached them. Then, accompanied by his son, his eldest brother, and the king with his full force, the events continued to unfold. In the midst of these trials, a woman—overcome with grief—cried out, meditating upon the goddess who can assume any form she desires. The World-Mother, pleased by her devotion, awakened all those who had fainted. Even as the master, though bound, spoke for himself, the woman declared, “Today I become a parrot, and you are situated in the moon.” Having uttered these words, she indeed became a parrot, endowed with a portion of Krishna. She comforted him with gentle words and described the true nature of Krishna’s portion. Then, displaying great valor, she slew a hundred thousand guards and made her way to her brother. Recognizing the full-moon night, sweet as honey, all became eager for what was to come. After completing their vows—bathing, meditation, and other sacred observances—they returned home. Upon reaching the ocean’s shore, they held a magnificent festival, and on the fifth day of the dark half of Caitra, they returned again to their own abode. Messengers, mounted on camels and eager to ensure the welfare of all, set out and, on the fifth day of the bright half of Vaiśākha, returned once more to their homes. Malanā and the king, in every house, arranged for a great festival according to the prescribed rites, generously distributing wealth to the brāhmaṇas. Sūta then spoke: “In the fourteenth year, regarding the portion of Krishna, hear how it happened. In the age of Kali, he took birth and dwelt in the womb of Svarṇavatī. On the ninth day of the bright half of Caitra, at midday, on a Thursday, that excellent son was born. The gods, together with the hosts of sages, proclaimed his name as Indulo. Āhlāda, filled with joy, performed all the birth rituals and ceremonies for the child. When Indule’s son was born, after two months on earth, the women—smeared with oil and overflowing with affection—gazed upon Netrasiṃha’s son. Hundreds of dancers, adorned in vibrant colors, gathered to celebrate. After seven nights, Yogasiṃha returned home, and out of deep fatherly affection, he took his son away by his own power. The goddess Śacī, filled with love, nursed the child at her own breast. Indu, radiant as nectar, grew into a splendid form; the boy mastered his father’s knowledge and attained excellence. When that boy mysteriously disappeared, the goddess Svarṇavatī became aware. Understanding what had happened to Āhlāda in the village of Daśagrāma, Āhlāda and his family, stricken with sorrow, remained without food, restraining their senses. Pleased by their devotion, the goddess herself spoke with a bodiless voice: ‘Jayanta, the son of Indra, has gone to the heavenly world. As long as you remain on earth, so long shall he also dwell on earth.’ When these words were spoken, their sorrow was lifted. Thereafter, they worshipped Śāradā, the goddess who dwells in all worlds, reciting the Seven Hundred Hymn at the three junctions of the day, with deep and loving devotion. In that land was a sāmanta, the son of a brāhmaṇa, named Cāmuṇḍa, renowned among all. After twelve years had passed, he was born during the sacred recitation of the Tricaritra.