After the events had unfolded, the Daitya attendants hurried to the great sage, the king of the Daityas, Hiraṇyakaśipu, and reported everything that had transpired. When Hiraṇyakaśipu learned that the destructive forces he had unleashed had failed to harm his son, he summoned Prahlāda and questioned him about the source of his extraordinary power. Hiraṇyakaśipu asked, “Prahlāda, you possess great strength—what is this power you have shown? Is it brought about by some mantra, or is it innate to you?” Prahlāda, the child of the Asuras, bowed respectfully at his father’s feet and replied, “Father, it is not through mantra or any such means, nor is it my own nature. This power is available to anyone in whose heart the Imperishable One dwells. One who does not consider others’ sins as his own does not incur sin, for there is no cause for its arrival. Whoever harms others by deed, mind, or speech, for him the seed of that action bears abundant evil fruit at birth. But I neither desire sin, nor do I commit or speak it, for I contemplate Keśava, who dwells in all beings and in myself. Physical, mental, divine, and elemental suffering—how could any of these arise for one whose mind is auspicious everywhere? Thus, unwavering devotion must be practiced by the wise toward all beings, knowing Hari to be present in all creatures.” Hearing Prahlāda’s words, the lord of the demons, Hiraṇyakaśipu, his face darkened by anger, stood atop the palace and addressed his demon attendants, “Cast this wicked child from the palace, a hundred yojanas away; let him fall upon the mountain’s summit, his body shattered by the rocks.” At his command, the Daitya and Dānava demons seized Prahlāda and hurled him down. As he fell, carrying Hari in his heart, the earth itself, devoted to Keśava, approached and received him gently, filled with devotion. Prahlāda landed unharmed, his bones unbroken. Seeing this miracle, Hiraṇyakaśipu turned to Śambara, the foremost among magicians, and said, “We are unable to kill this wicked-minded boy. You know magic, so destroy him by your magic.” Śambara replied confidently, “I will indeed destroy him, O lord of the demons. Witness the power of my magic—here are a thousand spells, and even a hundred million more.” Śambara unleashed his magic against Prahlāda, intent on his destruction. Yet Prahlāda, seeing all with equal vision, kept his mind composed and free from envy, even toward Śambara, and remembered Madhusūdana. For Prahlāda’s protection, the supreme disc Sudarśana, encircled with flames, arrived, summoned by the Lord. The swift-moving disc shielded Prahlāda’s body, destroying each of Śambara’s thousand spells. Frustrated, Hiraṇyakaśipu then commanded, “Let the drying wind quickly, by my command, bring this wicked one to destruction.” The wind agreed and entered Prahlāda, harsh and cold, seeking to dry out his body and cause extreme suffering. Realizing he had been possessed by the wind, Prahlāda held the great Lord, the sustainer of the earth, in his heart. With Janārdana dwelling within him, Prahlāda drank in that terrifying wind; enraged, Janārdana brought the wind to destruction. With all the magic exhausted and the wind destroyed, the wise boy returned to his teacher’s house. Day by day, his teacher instructed Prahlāda in the policies that yield the fruits of kingship, composed by Usanas for rulers. When the teacher considered Prahlāda had mastered the treatise on policy and was disciplined, he reported his progress to Hiraṇyakaśipu. The teacher said, “Your son, O lord of the Daityas, has mastered the treatise on policy. Prahlāda understands in essence what was taught by Bhargava.” Hiraṇyakaśipu questioned his son further, “How should a king behave among friends and among enemies? Prahlāda, how should one act among those neutral in the three worlds? How should one act with ministers, counselors, outsiders, insiders, spies, citizens, and those who are suspicious or otherwise? Tell me, Prahlāda, the proper regulation of what should and should not be done, the securing of forts and forests, and likewise the removal of thorns. And whatever else you have studied in full, tell me all of it as it is; I wish to know what is in your mind.” Prahlāda, adorned with humility, bowed at his father’s feet and, with hands joined, addressed the lord of the Daityas, “All that was instructed to me by the teacher, I have learned without doubt; but though I have grasped it, it is not truly my opinion. Conciliation, giving, division, and punishment—these means have all been taught for the accomplishment of friends and others. But, father, I do not see those friends and others; do not be angry. When there is nothing to be accomplished, what purpose do the means serve, O mighty-armed? Father, in the soul of all beings, in the lord of the universe, in the universe itself, in the supreme soul Govinda—how can there be talk of friend and enemy? That Lord Vishnu is present in you, in me, and everywhere; therefore, how can one be my friend and another my enemy, and how can there be distinction? Therefore, enough of these excessive and elaborate discussions about hostile undertakings, father; effort should be made, O noble one, only within ignorance.” Thus, Prahlāda spoke, revealing his unwavering devotion and wisdom, undisturbed by the trials and teachings imposed upon him.