Mounted proudly on an elephant, the valiant Yadava now ruled as lord over Candravali. At the same time, Brahmananda, mighty in strength, ascended to the city of Hari, ready for whatever might come. Among those present was Mardana, the illustrious prince, famed for his victories in battle. Meanwhile, Rupana, mounted on a swift horse, journeyed to Saradana, accompanied by the princes Naraharin and Sankhamsa. As these powerful figures gathered, Camunda appeared on the battlefield, commanding a force of ten thousand. He gazed upon the splendid city, which flourished with the four social orders, its beauty evident to all. With cunning, the king arrived at the fortress gate, intent on his purpose. Within the city, Malanā, upon seeing her brother, was distressed and spoke to him with a heavy heart. She lamented that water could not be obtained from the sacred and renowned reservoir, and sorrow had descended, for there was neither joy nor the favor of Krishna’s portion. She revealed that someone had arrived from distant Kanyakubja, sent by Krishna’s own portion—this was Devidatta, who would accomplish the task set before them. Malanā then saw Camunda, the brahmin, tormented by the fire of desire. She confided, “This cunning brahmin, O mother, will surely take me away.” Hearing her anguished words, the king was overcome with shame. Meanwhile, those who followed Brahma were defeated by their adversaries. The defenders, having made the gate of the city very strong, fell into great anxiety, but the powerful king, approved by the rulers, remained steadfast. Elsewhere, four warriors led by Talanada, accompanied by an army of sixty thousand, entered the women’s grove and journeyed to the city of Sirisha. There, deprived of happiness, they encountered the sage Himada. Bowing low, grief-stricken, they addressed him: “O sage, O powerful one, O destroyer of strength!” Yet, upon hearing their words, the yogi Himada was destroyed by the king of the earth. When the dreadful news reached Krishna’s portion, he was plunged into sorrow. He mourned deeply: “Alas, my kinsman, offspring of Dharma!” Overwhelmed, he cried out, “Grant me your vision quickly, or else I will abandon my very life.” Moved by these words, his brother Balakhani, who dwelt among spirits, recounted all that had transpired, including his own misfortunes. Then, ascending a divine aerial chariot, Balakhani departed for the delightful realms of heaven. Stricken with grief, Krishna’s portion performed the sacred sesame offering for his departed brother. In the midst of sorrow, he took up his flute, enchanting all with his music, and began to dance. The god Lakshana accompanied him on the mṛdaṅga, while bronze cymbals rang out in harmony. At that moment, Queen Malana witnessed the festival of the dwarfs. But she felt abandoned, for Krishna’s portion and his relatives had left her, and she lamented her misfortune. Seeing her distress, Krishna’s portion was moved with affection and spoke gently: “O queen, we yogis are skilled in every kind of battle. The barley and rice grains kept in your house—by our yogic army, we shall protect you.” Hearing these words, his devoted wife, with eyes like lotus petals and a body dark and beautiful, was filled with love. Even the mighty king Durjaya was overcome by Krishna’s portion. Malana, overwhelmed with love, rejoiced at his words. All the women then sang of the auspicious deeds of Krishna’s portion, clapping rhythmically as they prepared to stand firm and protected. Meanwhile, the heroes, proud of their strength, arrived at Kirtisagara. The king there, destroyer of his own lineage, recognized that a portion of Krishna had come among them. In the tumult that followed, the yogis plundered all the women, O great king, and the soldiers of that king, disguising themselves in the garb of yogis, mingled among them, shrouding their true intentions.