In the midst of great turmoil, a cry of anguish arose: “Alas, Indula, great hero! Alas, my kinsman, bringer of joy!” The longing was intense, and the plea urgent: “Grant me your vision quickly, O one with an auspicious face, accept me today!” At that very moment, the mighty son of Indra arrived, his presence commanding attention. Talana, the commander, observed the army’s deployment and, standing atop a lioness, roared loudly like a lion, declaring, “O hero, victory will not be yours by the destruction of the army.” Hearing this challenge, the terrifying son of Indra, a formidable hero, struck his own chest with his mace, displaying his resolve and fury. As Indula fainted from the intensity of the moment, the mare beside him transformed into a divine form. In haste, the boy seized the weapon of Time and his bow, readying himself for battle. When the commander was slain, Krishnaamsha, overcome with passion, was distraught. Indula, his eyes reddened with anger, took up the fire-missile and swiftly approached the enemy, who responded with the wind-missile. Yet, by his yogic power, Krishnaamsha drank up the supreme wind-missile, astonishing the mighty son of Indra. Again, through yoga, the weapon was rendered ineffective, and Krishnaamsha placed all the water into his mouth by his own yogic power. With clarity of mind, mighty arms, and self-controlled senses, Krishnaamsha took up his shield and sword, and immediately engaged in sword combat. Meanwhile, the gods and all the kings of the earth arrived to witness these events. At dawn, the powerful Balakhani appeared. The heroic and illustrious son of Indra, worn out by fatigue, stood there. In anger, he declared, “With my own sword, O Krishna’s portion, I shall take your head,” and, seizing his sword, advanced swiftly. But Balakhani, recognizing him, abandoned his weapon out of love. He spoke gently: “O Indula, greatly fortunate one, bringer of honor to your father and mother. First, after killing me, O hero, and then your paternal uncle, may you be happy, O great hero, in the house of Sukhavarman.” Hearing these words and realizing the connection to his own family, the child wept bitterly, seeking to atone for his offense. He spoke sweet words: “Listen, dear father, my beloved. Whether god, human, serpent, or demon—I am he, pure from birth, who brings joy to my father. Having accepted the delusion born of the lotus-lady, I did not know.” Having spoken thus, the boy again wept, overwhelmed by affection. Hearing the child’s words, Krishna’s portion arranged a festival in that land for all the people. Aryasimha, adorned with various gifts, gave a hundred horses and elephants, adorned with pearls and jewels. He arranged their departure, his voice choked with love. Having stayed for one month on that fearful path, Āhlāda, with a cheerful heart, together with his wife and son, reached the city called Daśahāra. King Pṛthvīrāja, upon hearing this, was filled with great astonishment. “You, abandoning your form as an apsaras, yourself came to earth as a woman. Having died from consumption, you attained the heavenly world.” Sūta then spoke: “O sage, in the land of Pāñcāla there was a king named Balavarddhana. He was a ruler from the Bisen dynasty, well-versed in the essence of the Vedas.