After assigning Anu dominion over the northern regions and establishing him as ruler there, the venerable king anointed Puru as the sovereign of all the earth. Having fulfilled these duties, he renounced his royal responsibilities and departed for the forest, seeking the peace of ascetic life. Now, listen to the lineage that sprang from Yadu’s son, Kroṣṭu. Kroṣṭu fathered Dhvajinīvan, from whom was born Svāti. Svāti’s line continued with Ruśaṅku, who begot Citraratha. Citraratha’s son was the illustrious Śaśibindu, who achieved the status of a universal monarch and was master of fourteen great treasures. His prosperity was such that he had a hundred thousand wives, and from them arose a hundred thousand sons. Among these sons, six were preeminent: Pṛthuśravāḥ, Pṛthukarmā, Pṛthukīrtiḥ, Pṛthuyaśāḥ, Pṛthujayaḥ, and Pṛthudānaḥ. Pṛthuśravāḥ’s son was Pṛthutamaḥ, who fathered Uśanā—a king renowned for performing a hundred horse sacrifices. Uśanā’s son was Śitapūrṇa; Śitapūrṇa’s son was Rukmakavaca, who in turn fathered Paravṛt. Paravṛt had five sons: Rukmeṣu, Pṛthujyāma, Aghavālita, Harita, and another whose name completes the five. Among the descendants of this line, the story of King Jyāmagha is still sung in verse. Of all men, whether their wives lived or had passed, none was deemed a better husband than Jyāmagha, the king and devoted spouse of Queen Śaivyā. Yet, though he longed for children, Śaivyā remained childless. Out of respect and perhaps a touch of fear, Jyāmagha never took another wife. One day, amidst a tumultuous and fierce battle, where chariots, horses, and elephants clashed, Jyāmagha emerged victorious, defeating all his enemies. Those vanquished foes, abandoning their families, troops, and treasures, fled in all directions. As they fled, the king beheld a royal maiden, her large eyes wide with terror, crying out for her parents and brother to save her. Moved by compassion and affection, Jyāmagha thought, “I am childless, and my wife cannot bear a child. Surely fate has sent this radiant maiden to become the cause of my progeny. Therefore, I shall marry her.” He gently placed her on his chariot and brought her to his palace. With the consent of Queen Śaivyā, Jyāmagha married the maiden, and together they returned to the city. As they approached the palace gates, the king—surrounded by citizens, relatives, his army, and ministers—was met by Shaivya, who had come to greet him. Noticing the young woman standing by the king’s left side, her lips trembling with the stirrings of indignation, Shaivya questioned her husband: “Who is this girl of fickle mind seated in your chariot?” Fearing further questions and without much thought, the king hastily replied, “She is my daughter-in-law.” Shaivya, perplexed, responded, “I have not borne you a son, nor have you taken another wife. By which son, then, does this woman become your daughter-in-law?” Caught between fear and a desire to avoid harsh words, Jyāmagha replied, “She is appointed as the wife of that son of yours who is yet to be born.” At this, Shaivya, with a gentle smile, simply agreed, “So be it,” and entered the palace with her husband. By the auspicious alignment of the moment and time, Shaivya soon conceived, and in due course, she gave birth to a son. Jyāmagha named the child Vidarbha. When the time was right, Vidarbha married the maiden, who had been so long ago appointed as his bride. From this union were born two sons: Kratha and Kaishika. In time, the maiden bore a third son, Romapada, who grew to be wise, having received knowledge from the sage Narada. Romapada’s line continued with Babhru, then Dhriti, then Kaishika, and from Kaishika, Cedi was born. From this lineage arose the renowned kings of the land of Cedi.