For six long months, fierce war raged between the two great armies, each side striving for victory without respite. In the midst of this relentless conflict, one of the warriors grew weary and troubled in his mind, his heart turning away from battle. Seeking guidance, he summoned Devasiṃha—the wise seer who knew past, present, and future—a great yogi of immense strength. After listening intently, Devasiṃha spoke to him with gravity. He revealed, “There is a son of Mahendra, master of every weapon and missile, who comes by night and destroys our forces. Therefore, with my help and the aid of Tālana, act swiftly to claim victory. If not, you will surely meet your end in the realm of Yama.” Taking these words to heart, the horse-warrior organized his army upon ships, stationing half of his forces there, prepared for the coming struggle. Mounted on their steeds, all the heroes readied themselves for battle. In the ensuing assault, they slew the guards and plundered the splendid city. Amidst the chaos, the powerful portion of Kṛṣṇa penetrated into the king’s inner chambers, where a beautiful woman, skilled in song and dance, sat surrounded by seven attendants. By force, he placed her upon a palanquin and looted the enemy’s house. Meanwhile, Balakhāni, mighty and accompanied by Devatālana, reached Sukhavarman, the commander of the enemy’s army, along with his son. In the fierce encounter that followed, Sukhavarman, the great hero, was slain. Overcome with rage, Jayanta revived his brother-in-law Sukhavarman and returned home, astonished at the turn of events. He went to the house of Arya Simha and inquired about all that had transpired. Grief-stricken, the hero wept bitterly, crying, “Alas, my beloved, overcome with passion!” After his lament, he mounted his mare and, alone and enraged, rode out at night towards the enemy’s encampment. At that very moment, the mighty Balakhan arrived. Jayanta cried out, “Alas, Indula, great hero! Alas, my kinsman, bringer of joy! Grant me your vision quickly, O one with an auspicious face—accept me today!” Just then, the mighty son of Indra appeared. As he observed the army’s deployment, Talana, the commander, stood atop a lioness and roared mightily, “O hero, victory will not be yours by the destruction of the army alone!” Hearing these words, the terrifying son of Indra, the hero, struck his own chest with his mace, and Indula fainted. In that moment, the mare transformed into a divine form. The boy, filled with urgency, seized the weapon of Time and his bow. When the commander was slain, Krishnaamsha, overwhelmed by passion, was plunged into distress. Indula, his eyes burning red with anger, took up the fire-missile and rushed at the enemy, who in turn unleashed the wind-missile. But by his yogic power, Krishnaamsha drank in the supreme wind-missile, rendering it harmless. Witnessing such a feat, the mighty son of Indra was astonished. Again, through the power of yoga, Krishnaamsha neutralized the weapon. Then, using his yogic might, he gathered all the water into his mouth. With mind clear, arms powerful, and senses controlled, he seized his shield and sword and leapt into sword combat. At that moment, the gods and all the kings of the earth assembled to witness the great confrontation. As dawn broke, the powerful Balakhani appeared. The heroic and illustrious son of Indra, weary from the struggle, stood his ground. With anger blazing, he declared, “With my own sword, O Krishna’s portion, I shall take your head!” Seizing his sword, he advanced swiftly. But Balakhani, recognizing his kinsman, was moved by love and, in that moment, let his weapon fall, abandoning the fight.