O foremost among Brahmins, we know you to be all-knowing—therefore, speak the truth to us. In response to this plea, the messengers went forth and faithfully reported all that had transpired, recounting the events that had led to the outbreak of a great battle. When King Parimala heard that his troop of horses had been destroyed, he was deeply troubled. To address this crisis, he was told, “You, endowed with strength, must go to the land of Sindhu.” Hearing these words, Krishna’s portion—Kṛṣṇāṃśa—set out, accompanied by the valiant Devasimha. Together, they gathered a formidable force of ten thousand brave warriors, assembling them for the task ahead. With the coming of dawn, the daughter of the garland-maker began her day. Meanwhile, Kṛṣṇāṃśa, filled with devotion and joy, performed worship to the deity. The place was wondrous—overflowing with flowers, alive with the hum of intoxicated bees, and resplendent in beauty. At that time, Pushpa arrived to gather flowers. Her face was serene, peaceful, and shone with the radiant luster of an Indra-nila gem. Kṛṣṇāṃśa beheld this auspicious woman and was struck with amazement, wondering if she had descended from heaven itself or if she might be a serpent maiden in disguise. Hearing his unspoken wonder, the garland-maker’s daughter spoke. She said, “With this flower, O king, the daughter of the king is equaled. This maiden, sought by the gods, is endowed with unmatched beauty and youth. Listen now, O king, to the reason for this, and learn how Makaraṇḍa came to be. “On earth, you are invincible to all others except for Kṛṣṇāṃśa. He established a kingdom—a cloud of righteousness—dear to Hari. From the sacred fire, he begot a pair, one with a face of rare beauty. When Makaraṇḍa, of great strength, reached the age of five, and later, when he attained the age of twelve, a stone-formed, swift, and mighty force arose, destroying enemy armies. This beautiful, divine forest of his is worshipped by the gods themselves.” Hearing these words, Kṛṣṇāṃśa found himself deeply moved, afflicted by the stirrings of love. Devasimha, wise and attuned to the flow of time, recognized that delusion had arisen in his companion. Together, Kṛṣṇāṃśa and Devasimha became absorbed in this state of longing and wonder. At the end of the month, they returned home. Kṛṣṇāṃśa reported all that had occurred to the king. Overcome by his infatuation, Kṛṣṇāṃśa offered heartfelt praises to the Mother of the Universe, seeking her protection. He prayed, “Protect me, tormented by Kāma; awaken Puṣpavatī. O slayer of Mahiṣāsura, who bewildered Madhu and Kaiṭabha, O destroyer of Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa, you who burned Dhūmralocana—O goddess who drank the blood of Raktabīja and terrifies all demons, O vanquisher of Niśuṃbha and destroyer of Śuṃbha—hear my plea!” Thus praising her, the hero Kṛṣṇāṃśa lay down to rest upon the supreme seat, and each day he worshipped the goddess, she who grants boons and removes fear. In this way, the four months of the rainy season passed, O sage. Then, in the dark fortnight of the month of Kārtika, Kṛṣṇāṃśa departed, accompanied by the gods, and went to reside in the flower-house. One day, Pushpa, taking a beautiful necklace entwined with a portion of Krishna’s essence, went to the house of Puṣpavatī. Upon seeing the necklace—so dear, and crafted as if by the divine artisan Tvashtar—Puṣpavatī said, “O friend, O great enchantress, tell me the truth before me.” Hearing these words, Makaraṇḍa was seized with fear and replied, “Give me a promise of life, and then I will tell you.