There was a woman of extraordinary beauty named Krishna, whose charm bewitched all the worlds. By her own hands, she had crafted an exquisite necklace, admired by all. When this was spoken of, the goddess Pushpavati herself listened intently. The gods and men on earth, out of fear of the mighty Makaranda, grew uneasy, and Pushpa herself was seized by dread upon hearing these ominous words. Sensing her fear, Pushpavati gently inquired, "What is it that frightens you so?" Pushpa replied, "Some deluded man may try to force himself upon her." Hearing this, the righteous Pushpavati admonished, "Those who act improperly will surely go to the abode of Yama. Therefore, quickly bring that swing to me." Obediently, the radiant Shudra woman returned home, her mind resolved. When Pushpavati heard these pleasant words, the powerful aspect of Krishna joined Pushpa on the swing. As Pushpavati gazed upon the enchanting, dark-skinned Krishna, she reflected, "As auspicious as this woman is, so too is the man whom I have seen." Then, the one bearing a portion of Krishna, the noble son of the regional king, addressed her. Every day, Krishna would make a necklace for worship. One day, as the hero wandered slowly among the flowers, he questioned, "From where has this delusion come to you? Tell me at once, do not delay." "I have seen an auspicious woman, radiant with beauty and youth," came the reply. Hearing this, Pushpavati spoke kindly to the lovely-faced woman, saying, "Then I will satisfy you with much wealth, O auspicious one." Overcome with love upon hearing these words, Pushpa set out. When she arrived at the fortress gate and approached the swing, the hero—embodying a portion of Govardhana—saw her beauty and was utterly bewildered. He called out, "Come quickly to my house; become my wife now." She replied, "You are noble, O great hero, born from the fire-pit. The daughter of the king, from the lunar and solar lineages, is a suitable bride for you. I am but a maiden of the Shudra caste, steadfast in my vow of celibacy." But the hero seized her by force, touching her heart. Having deluded the prince, the god returned to his own home. Makaranda, now awakened and tormented by the fire of love, was overcome by affection. In the beautiful city of Mahavati stood the auspicious house of Krishna, where she wept bitterly, intent on reproaching him. It was foretold that a mighty hero would arrive, leading a powerful army—the very one who had defeated Lahara, Makaranda’s own great-uncle, a formidable warrior. Upon hearing these dreadful tidings, King Makaranda summoned his own army, three hundred thousand strong and armed with swords. Krishna, having reached her home, spoke to her commander and, with an army of five hundred thousand, set out for the city of Mayura. Her forces included five thousand catapults and ten thousand elephants; they journeyed for just half a week through the land of Pancala. Hearing of this, Makaranda stood firm, his arm adorned with a mighty mace. At his command, one hundred thousand foot soldiers took up catapults and fire, readying themselves for the coming conflict.