In the heat of battle, the foot of the lotus-born son of Vatsa was torn, yet undaunted, he struck back at the king’s army with his own wounded feet. Suddenly, the fierce Cāmuṇḍa arrived and, with a single blow, severed the head of Balakhāna. Overcome with grief at this tragedy, Gajamuktā, hearing of her husband’s fate, placed his body upon the funeral pyre. At that sorrowful moment, Brahmā himself came to that place, accompanied by his consort. The king, overwhelmed by loss and rage, set the city ablaze, leaving it desolate and empty. Yet, the king’s spirit remained restless, always drawn to conflict. He journeyed to the festival of serpents, where music and dance filled the air. There, in the village of Mahāvatī, in the midst of Kīrtisāgara, a divine instruction was given: “Go there and do exactly as I say.” Obediently, the king, accompanied by Dhuṃdhukāra, traveled to the Śirīṣa forest and took up residence there. The lord of the earth, showing respect, bowed before the king of the lunar dynasty. A messenger announced, “O king, the lord of the earth stands before you, seeking battle. After worshipping the divine liṅga, he intends to seize it by force.” Therefore, it was urged, “Gather your forces, and with me, prepare for the struggle, O wise one.” Hearing this, King Parimala, mighty and fated, took up arms. In the ensuing battle, five thousand valiant Kshatriya warriors fell. Rising swiftly, the great king girded himself for further conflict. As the two armies clashed, Malana, yearning for a son, performed fervent prayers, invoking the great goddess: “O goddess, O great destroyer of suffering!” She recited the sacred mantra ten thousand times, offering oblations and prayers. Yet, a dire prophecy was spoken: “A great calamity will befall Malana; she will perish—do not grieve.” With these words, the goddess Sharada departed towards Krishna’s portion, instructing, “She will soon perish, therefore you must rescue her.” The hero, hearing the goddess’s words, was filled with wonder. But Malana, having heard these dreadful tidings, set out with Svarnavati. Krishnamsa, sorrowful, shared his thoughts with Devasimha. United, and marked by auspicious signs, they were joined by Talana—a portion of Bhimasena and a noble-minded commander. Reaching the field of Kalpaksha, those yogis became present. Krishnamsa, Talana, and the god Lakshana—all mighty—joined forces. For seven days, a fierce battle raged between the two sides, with death mounting each day. On the seventh day, a great and terrible battle unfolded. Seeing his army falter, King Parimala, still mighty, pressed on. The Yadava, mounted on an elephant, now ruled as the lord of Candravali. Brahmananda, strong as ever, ascended to the city of Hari. Prince Mardana, famed for victory, was present on the field. Rupana, on horseback, rode to Saradana, while Naraharin the prince and Sankhamsa also arrived. In this tumultuous battle, Cāmuṇḍa, commanding ten thousand warriors, was present. They beheld the beautiful city, adorned with all four social orders. The clever king made his way to the fortress gate. Within, Malanā, seeing her brother, spoke in distress: “Water could not be obtained at the sacred and renowned reservoir. Without delight, and bereft of Krishna’s portion, great sorrow has come. One has arrived from Kanyakubja, sent by Krishna’s portion.