In the midst of a splendid svayamvara, she made her choice with radiant joy—seizing him, she departed, her heart filled with supreme happiness. Krishnamsa, upon realizing what had happened, found himself unable to see his own child. Even Devasimha, who was wise to the ways of fate, became bewildered by the extraordinary illusion that had taken place. As Devasimha stood astonished, Krishnamsaka, strong and resolute, observed his confusion. Hearing Devasimha’s weeping, the wicked king, his heart overcome with grief, cried intensely before speaking with humility. He revealed that Udaya, Devasimha’s own brother, had cunningly deceived the two by means of intoxication. The king himself had witnessed the hero Udaya’s actions firsthand. Yet, despite his discernment, Devasimha could not comprehend what had truly transpired. In the meantime, the two heroes returned, their hearts heavy, weeping as they came. Ahlada, upon understanding the situation and hearing the king’s words, realized the truth. However, Devasimha’s mother, wife, and sister—afflicted by love and sorrow—remained unaware, for Devasimha himself was still lost in the bewildering illusion. Queen Pushpavati, seeing her husband tormented by his own brother, was deeply troubled. Though Krishnamsa was blameless, he suffered harsh reproach. In his anguish, Devasimha reflected that death and abandonment were to be regarded as equal, and urged wise discernment in choosing the right course. He summoned the outcastes and commanded them to seize the slayer of his own son. “Pluck out his eyes and bring them to me together, all of you,” he ordered. But Devasimha, acting with wisdom, approached the outcastes and gave them a great sum of wealth. Meanwhile, Gajamukta, the devoted wife of Balakhana, remained steadfast in her loyalty. The outcastes, having gathered, delivered the accused to Mriganetra, rebuking him: “Shame on you, sinner, wicked one! You have harmed my friend.” Yet, they revealed, “Your son is alive on earth; go in search of him.” With these words, the hero set out for the auspicious city of Shirishā. Having taken leave of the faithful Gajamukta, the couple journeyed onward without fear. At this time, Makaranda, powerful and wise, learned the entire cause of their troubles. He turned to worship dharma with various sacrifices and hymns, seeking divine favor. In that land, the daughter of King Abhinandana was Citraprapūjinī. Among her teachers was Kutuka, who, taking the form of a yogin, instructed Kesariṇī. The land itself was perilous, made difficult to approach by enemies and hostile stones. Jayanta was seized by Citralekhā, the king’s daughter, while Indula remained there—sorrowful and bewildered by her own wondrous magic. The god addressed Krishnamsa, “You, O portion of Krishna, together with Sūryavarman, approach Citralekhā and perform dances and such with them. Enchant that goddess, and recite her auspicious doctrine.” Having spoken these words, the god vanished, leaving the king filled with wonder. When the month of Phālguna arrived, the three—Krishnamsa, Sūryavarman, and their companion—assumed the forms of yogis. At that time, the god played the mṛdaṅga, and Makaranda played the vīṇā, their music enchanting all who heard. They bewildered the city and its king, the lord of elephants, with their divine presence. The king, moved by their ascetic display, said humbly, “Speak your desire to me, O ascetic.” The yogin replied, “Having accomplished the task swiftly, I will return your son to you.” Hearing this, the lord of elephants entrusted his own son to them. In the span of a fortnight, the group joyfully reached the city of Bahlika. Skilled in the essence of dance and intent on enchanting the king, they arrived and performed. All present were captivated by their mastery of song and dance. Delighted, the king took them to his own house, rejoicing in their presence and the wonders they brought.