Thus, as the king commanded, the Daityas—countless in number and armed with mighty weapons—rose up together, intent on destroying the boy. But Vishnu, standing amidst them, declared, “As I stand among your weapons and among you, O Daityas, by this truth, let your weapons not touch me.” With this, torrents of weapons rained down upon him by the hundreds, yet he felt not even the slightest pain. Each assault left him renewed and untouched, unharmed by their might. Then he spoke gently: “O fool, turn back from the enemy’s side; I grant you fearlessness—be wise, do not persist in your deluded mind.” The boy replied with unwavering faith, “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.” Frustrated, the king commanded the serpents, saying, “O serpents! This wicked one, of utterly evil mind, acts wrongly—immediately destroy him with your venomous flames.” At his order, the serpents Kuhaka, Takshaka, and Andhaka, their venom exceedingly potent, bit the boy all over. Yet Krishna, his mind absorbed in divine remembrance, felt nothing—not even his own body, but remained in the joy of remembering the Lord. The serpents’ fangs shattered, gems cracked upon their hoods, their hearts burned with heat and they trembled, but not even a little of his skin was broken. The king was advised, “O lord of the Daityas, seek another means.” Next, the king called upon the guardians of the quarters and mighty-tusked elephants: “O guardians of the quarters! O 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 the boy down to the earth and pierced him with their tusks. But as he remembered Govinda, the elephant tusks, by the thousands, shattered upon his chest. He then spoke to his father, “The tusks of the elephants, sharp as thunderbolts, are broken—this is not my strength; it is the power of remembering Janardana, the destroyer of great calamities and sins.” In desperation, the king ordered, “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 him ablaze. But the boy calmly said, “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.” Witnessing this, the sons of Bhargava, the great-souled priests, eloquent and praising him, spoke to the king: “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, in this way, 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.” Thus urged by his priests, the king expelled his son from the assembly of fire. While living in the house of his teacher, the boy began to instruct the other young Daityas repeatedly, even amidst the teacher’s other lessons. He said, “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 to be understood as nothing but suffering. “The cessation of hunger and thirst, or the 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? If a fool delights in a body composed of flesh, blood, pus, veins, urine, sinews, marrow, and bones, he will also find joy in hell. “Fire is relieved by cold, thirst by water, hunger by food; if one considers these to be the causes of happiness, it is the opposite in truth. O sons of the Daityas! As long as one maintains attachment, for that long, he brings suffering upon his own mind. As many beloved connections as a creature forms in his mind, just so many shafts of sorrow are driven into his heart. Wherever one’s mind is fixed, regarding whatever in the home, there alone abide destruction, burning, and loss for him. “In every birth, there is great suffering, and for the dying as well; in the fierce torments of Yama and in the transitions through the womb. Even the slightest trace of happiness in the womb is inferred by you; if that is so, then tell me—this entire world is filled with suffering. Thus, in this ocean of existence, which is the very abode of great suffering, you declare truly that Viṣṇu alone is the supreme refuge. “We are children and do not know that the embodied soul is eternal in bodies; old age, youth, birth, and such are properties of the body, not of the self. As a child, I think, ‘I will strive for the good when I am young’; as a youth, ‘I will do what is beneficial for myself when I am old.’” So, the boy taught the Daityas, revealing the truth of suffering in worldly existence and the supreme refuge found only in Viṣṇu.