Then, in that moment, Makaranda, the powerful son of Bhishma, took up the vina and the drum. As he did so, a wave of joy swept through the great assembly of women gathered there. With his actions, Makaranda dispelled the illusion that had clouded the atmosphere; in an instant, its power was rendered fruitless. Turning to the bride, Krishna’s own portion spoke gently: “Tell me your desire, O hero.” Hearing these words, Citrarekha, her mind troubled and sorrowful, replied. She spoke of her own divine origins, saying, “All the deities, beginning with Indra, were created by me. Whether it is the god Narayana, Dharma, or Shiva himself—know that my name is Udaya, O queen, and here is Devasingha, the excellent one. Through our separation from Indula, we have attained yogic powers.” She then pleaded: “O great enchantress, give Shuka, or give Indula, if you wish. Grant me your audience quickly, otherwise I will give up my life.” Overcoming her shame, she spoke again with deep emotion: “Take me and my son, O lord.” She and her son fell at their feet, weeping aloud in distress. At this, the excellent letter written by Indu was taken and received. Sūryavarman, honored by Makaranda, returned home. Carried by his cherished wish, he journeyed to a place where joy and sorrow mingled together. There, he declared, “Know that Devasimha and I are devoted to seeking your son.” Upon hearing these words, Āhlāda was filled with supreme delight. Summoning the king, the humble-minded one spoke, “O hero, I have heard how Kṛṣṇāṃśa was slain.” Āhlāda, his eyes reddened with anger, seized him by the hair, yet did so with joy. Word of these events reached King Parimala, who arrived with his queen. Parimala cried out, “O wicked one, great sinner, you have killed my kinsman!” Distressed, the king sighed deeply and remained silent. At that very moment, the hero Balakhāni arrived and began making preparations for the marriage of his brother’s son. Soon, Tāraka also came, accompanied by a thousand valiant warriors. Then Tālana arrived, attended by an army numbering a hundred thousand. Tālana, endowed with the strength of three hundred thousand, attained the bliss of Brahman himself. Yet amidst these gatherings, a cry of anguish arose: “Alas, my friend! Where have you gone, having abandoned me, the lowest of men?” Still, Balakhani, powerful and commanding an army of one hundred thousand, remained present. In a single day and night, Balakhani’s force covered what would normally be a month’s journey, and he carefully arranged the formation of his own army. A single chariot stood at the forefront in battle, with elephants stationed behind it. Ten companies of infantry were arrayed in order behind them. The army consisted of one chariot, all the elephants, and a hundred and fifty horses. The foot soldiers numbered fifty thousand, and the elephants, ten thousand in number and intoxicated with rut, advanced separately. Meanwhile, the mlecchas—followers of the Pisacha way and subjects of King Abhinandana—arrived. One hundred thousand foot soldiers, armed with clubs and maces and mounted on elephants, joined the place where Āhlāda’s great army stood. Between these two mighty forces, a tremendous and tumultuous battle erupted, fierce enough to make one’s hair stand on end.