Then it happened that the goddess Puṣpavatī beheld an enchanting, dark-skinned woman, whose beauty captivated her heart. As she gazed upon this auspicious lady, Puṣpavatī reflected, “Just as this woman is so wondrous, so too is the man whom I have seen before.” At this moment, the excellent son of the regional king, who carried within him a portion of Kṛṣṇa’s power, approached and spoke to her. Each day, a necklace was fashioned especially for worship. On one such day, as the heroic prince set out, moving slowly amidst the blossoming flowers, he questioned, “From where has this delusion come to you? Speak to me at once, do not delay.” The reply came, “I have seen an auspicious woman, endowed with beauty and youth.” Hearing this, Puṣpavatī addressed the lovely-faced woman, “Then I will satisfy you with abundant wealth, O auspicious one.” Upon hearing these words, Puṣpā, her heart overflowing with love, proceeded onward. When she arrived at the gate of the fortress and approached the swing, O Bhārgava, she drew near, and there the hero saw her—her face radiant with beauty. The powerful prince, who bore a portion of Govardhana’s might, was utterly bewildered by her presence. Overcome, he called out, “Come quickly to my house; become my wife now.” But she replied, “You are noble, O great hero, born from the sacred fire-pit. The daughter of the king, from the illustrious lunar and solar dynasties, would be a suitable match for you. I, however, am a maiden of the Śūdra caste, steadfast in my vow of celibacy.” Yet, seized by passion, the prince took hold of her by force and touched her very heart. Deluded by divine influence, the prince was left bewildered, while that god returned to his own house. Meanwhile, Makaranda, awakened from his sleep and tormented by the fierce fire of love, found himself overcome by longing. King Makaranda, renowned for his great strength, was now wholly consumed by affection. In the beautiful city of Mahavati stood the auspicious house of Krishna, and there, a woman wept intensely, her heart intent on reproaching him. In this time of turmoil, it was foretold that a mighty hero would come, accompanied by powerful forces—one who had defeated even Lahara, the king’s great-uncle and a mighty warrior. Upon hearing these dire words, King Makaranda acted at once: he summoned his own vast army, numbering three hundred thousand and equipped with swords. Krishna, reaching the woman’s house, spoke to the commander. With an even greater army of five hundred thousand, he set out for the city of Mayura. Their forces were formidable, including five thousand catapults and ten thousand elephants. They traveled swiftly, pausing for only half a week on the road through Pancala. Hearing of this advance, Makaranda stood resolute, his arm adorned with a mighty mace. At his command, one hundred thousand foot soldiers took up catapults and fire. At the southern gate of the village, the horse-mounted troops advanced—one hundred thousand horses, all belonging to King Makaranda. At the western gate, twenty thousand elephants stood ready, while forty thousand great warriors mounted on camels guarded the flanks. A fierce and hair-raising battle erupted, raging day and night without pause. Yet, overwhelmed, the opposing warriors abandoned the fight, fleeing in all directions. Amidst the chaos, the god, seated in the chariot of desire, and Ahlada, mounted on a mighty elephant, pressed forward. The noble warriors, casting aside their swords, wrought a great slaughter upon their enemies. Among them, the powerful son of Agni rode a horse fashioned from stone, and those heroic souls, led by Krishnaamsha, surrounded the battlefield on all sides, encircling the enemy with valor and divine might.