In the halls of the Daityas, a heated exchange unfolded between Prahlada and his father, Hiranyakashipu. Prahlada, steadfast in his devotion, spoke of Vishnu, whose supreme state lies beyond the grasp of words and is the object of meditation for yogis. He declared that Vishnu, the Supreme Lord, is the source from whom the universe itself arises. Hiranyakashipu, angered by his son's words, rebuked him, demanding, “Ignorant one! Who else is called the Supreme Lord, existing by his own power? You must wish for death, since you repeat this again and again.” Prahlada, undeterred, replied, “Father, not only for me, but for all beings, Vishnu is the source and creator, the Supreme Lord. Be gracious—why do you show anger?” The king, enraged, wondered aloud, “Who has corrupted the heart of this wicked, evil-minded boy, that he speaks such unrighteous words?” Prahlada calmly explained, “Vishnu pervades not only my heart, but abides in all worlds; he unites me, you, and all our kin in every action, O father.” Hiranyakashipu ordered, “Let this wicked one be restrained and disciplined in the teacher’s house! Who has led him to praise the enemy falsely?” Thus, Prahlada was taken by the Daityas back to his teacher’s house, where he diligently learned knowledge, day and night, eager to listen. After a long time, Hiranyakashipu summoned Prahlada and said, “My son, recite some verse you have learned.” Prahlada replied, “From whom both Pradhāna and Puruṣa arise, and from whom all this moving and unmoving world comes—may that Vishnu, the cause of all, be gracious to us.” Hiranyakashipu’s fury reached its peak. “This evil-hearted one should be killed; there is no purpose in his living. He has become a disgrace to the family, like one who cuts the wings of a bird.” At his command, countless Daityas, armed with mighty weapons, rose up to destroy Prahlada. But Vishnu declared, “As I stand among your weapons and among you, O Daityas, by this truth, let your weapons not touch me.” Despite being struck by torrents of weapons, Prahlada felt not the slightest pain and became renewed again. Hiranyakashipu pleaded, “O fool, turn back from the enemy’s side; I grant you fearlessness—be wise, do not persist in your deluded mind.” But Prahlada answered, “When the remover of all fears stands in my mind, O father, where does fear remain? By remembering Him, all fears of birth, old age, death, and the like vanish.” The king, desperate, called upon the serpents: “O serpents! This wicked one, of utterly evil mind, acts wrongly—immediately destroy him with your venomous flames.” Kuhaka, Takshaka, and Andhaka, the serpents, bit Prahlada all over with potent venom. Yet, absorbed in Krishna, Prahlada did not perceive his own body, remaining in the joy of remembrance. The serpents’ fangs shattered, gems cracked upon their hoods, their hearts burned and they trembled—yet not even a little of Prahlada’s skin was broken. Hiranyakashipu was told, “O lord of the Daityas, seek another means.” Next, Hiranyakashipu summoned the guardians of the quarters and mighty-tusked elephants: “Strike down this one who has broken our enemy’s ranks; let your attack destroy him as a blazing fire consumes dry wood.” The guardians, resembling mountain peaks, struck Prahlada down and pierced him with their tusks. But as he remembered Govinda, the elephant tusks shattered upon his chest. Prahlada said to his father, “The tusks of the elephants, sharp as thunderbolts, are broken—not by my strength, but by the power of remembering Janardana, the destroyer of great calamities and sins.” Still, Hiranyakashipu persisted: “Ignite the fire, O Asuras! Withdraw, O guardians of the quarters! Wind, kindle the fire; let it burn this sinful son of the lord of the Asuras, covered with great logs.” The Danavas, urged by the fire, set Prahlada ablaze. Yet Prahlada calmly told his father, “Though this fire is fanned by the wind, it does not burn me at all; I see lotus beds spread everywhere, and all the directions are cool.” Seeing this, the sons of Bhargava, the priests, approached Hiranyakashipu and advised, “O king, restrain your anger toward this boy, your son and younger brother; let your wrath be directed at the hosts of gods, where it will be fruitful. Thus, those will become the chastisers of your boy. Childhood is the abode of all faults, O king of the Daityas; therefore, you should not direct excessive anger towards a child in this matter. If, by our words, he does not abandon the side of Hari, then we shall employ a magical rite to bring about his death and turn him back.” Urged by his priests, Hiranyakashipu expelled Prahlada from the assembly of fire. While living in the teacher’s house, Prahlada continued to instruct the other young Daityas, even amidst their lessons. He said to them, “Listen to my highest teaching, O Daityas, sons of Diti; let this not be considered otherwise—there is no motive here of greed or the like. After birth and childhood, every creature attains youth; then, without hindrance, day by day, old age comes. Then, O sons of the lord of the Daityas, death approaches the creature; this is seen directly by us and by you as well. And for the dead, there is rebirth—this is certain, not otherwise; such is the tradition, and in that, there is no arising without a cause. From dwelling in the womb and so on, up to the occasion of rebirth, every stage is nothing but suffering. The cessation of hunger and thirst, or relief from cold and the like, is considered happiness by childish minds, but in truth, that too is only suffering. For those whose limbs are utterly inert, who desire pleasure through exertion, whose senses are veiled by deluded knowledge—even a blow seems pleasurable. What is the body but a mass of phlegm and the like? What beauty, radiance, fragrance, or charm are its qualities?” Thus, Prahlada continued to share wisdom with his peers, unwavering in his devotion, even as his father’s wrath and the trials he faced grew ever more severe.