Hari beheld his adversary from afar, seated proudly in a resplendent chariot. This figure bore the discus and mace, his arms powerful and strong, and in one hand he held a radiant lotus. He was adorned with a glorious garland and carried the conch, while a banner emblazoned with Garuda fluttered above him. Upon his chest shone the brilliant mark of Śrīvatsa. He wore a lustrous crown and dazzling earrings; his garments were yellow as the morning sun. Grave and composed in his demeanor, the bearer of the Garuda banner—Hari himself—regarded his opponent with a gentle, knowing laughter. Battle commenced with a mighty force, the armies surging forward with elephants and horses, warriors wielding swords, spears, maces, tridents, javelins, and bows. Yet, in but a moment, arrows loosed from the bow Śārṅga tore through the enemy ranks. The blows of the mace and the whirling discus laid waste to the assembled host, annihilating the army with divine might. Having vanquished the forces of the king of Kāśi, Janārdana addressed Pauṇḍraka, that deluded soul who had dared to bear the Lord’s own insignia. Hari spoke: “What you demanded of me, through your messenger—that I should abandon these symbols—I now fulfill for you. Behold, this discus is cast away, this mace is released for you, and Garuda himself is assigned—let him ascend your banner.” So declaring, Hari hurled the discus, struck Pauṇḍraka with the mace, and Garuda, mighty and fierce, shattered his banner to pieces. Cries of lamentation rose throughout the world as the powerful king of Kāśi, loyal to his friend, stepped forth to fight Vāsudeva. But Vāsudeva, with arrows shot from Śārṅga, severed the king’s head and cast it into the city of Kāśi, filling the grieving people with awe and wonder. Having slain Pauṇḍraka and the king of Kāśi, along with their followers, Śauri returned to Dvāravatī, joyful as one who has attained heaven. When the people of Kāśi saw the severed head in their city, they were struck with astonishment and asked one another, “What is this?” Realizing that Vāsudeva had slain their king, his son, accompanied by the royal priest, journeyed to Śaṅkara. At the sacred place of Avimukta, Śaṅkara was pleased and said to the prince, “Choose a boon.” The prince replied, “O Lord, by your grace, let a magical being arise to slay Kṛṣṇa, the killer of my father.” Śaṅkara granted the wish, and at once, from the southern fire, a great Kritya—a magical being—was born, blazing and formidable. Her mouth was fierce as flames, her hair a torrent of fire. Enraged, she cried, “Kṛṣṇa! Kṛṣṇa!” and sped toward Dvāravatī. The people, terrified and wide-eyed, fled to Madhusudana, the refuge of all worlds, seeking his protection. Understanding that this terrible Kritya had been produced by the daughter of the king of Kāśi, after she had worshipped Śiva, the Lord with the bull-banner, Hari resolved to destroy her. He was urged to vanquish this fiery being with the Sudarshana discus, which, in his playful hand, was always destined for the destruction of the wicked. Swiftly, Sudarshana, the discus of Viṣṇu, pursued the terrifying Kritya, whose garland and matted locks blazed with fire. Struck by the discus, the Kritya was scattered, yet, driven by her fury, she pressed on, the discus relentless in pursuit. At last, the Kritya entered Varanasi itself, her power checked by the discus of Viṣṇu. The mighty army of Kāśi, along with the Pishachas—ghastly spirits—armed themselves with weapons and missiles and advanced to confront the discus. But Sudarshana, master of all weapons, unleashed his energy and burned the entire army to ashes, consuming the Kritya and the whole city of Varanasi. The city, with its king, servants, citizens, horses, elephants, and men, along with all its treasures and storehouses, was utterly destroyed—a sight even the gods could barely endure. Flames engulfed every house, wall, and courtyard, as Hari’s discus burned the city completely. Undiminished in power, fierce in wrath, eager to accomplish the impossible, and flashing with radiant light, the discus returned to the hand of Viṣṇu. At this point, Maitreya addressed Parāśara, saying, “O Brahman, I wish to hear again of the valorous deeds of wise Balabhadra. I have heard of the drawing of the Yamunā and other feats—please tell me, O fortunate one, what else Bala has done.” Parāśara replied, “Listen, O Maitreya, to the deed performed by the mighty and immeasurable Ananta, the supporter of the earth, among the Yadus. The heroic Sāmba, son of Jāmbavatī, once seized by force the daughter of Duryodhana at her svayamvara. Enraged, the mighty Karṇa, Duryodhana, and others, joined by Bhīṣma and Droṇa, captured the victorious Sāmba. When the Yadavas heard of this, they were filled with anger toward Duryodhana and his companions and resolved upon a great endeavor to rescue Sāmba. But Balarāma restrained them, saying with proud and resolute words, ‘They will release him at my command; I alone shall go to the Kauravas.’ Recognizing Balarāma’s arrival, the kings—Duryodhana and the others—offered him the customary gifts of hospitality: a cow, arghya, and water. After receiving these honors, Balarāma addressed the Kauravas: ‘Ugrasena commands you—release Sāmba at once.’ Upon hearing this, Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Karṇa, Duryodhana, and their companions were filled with anger. All the Kauravas, including Vāhlīka and the rest, spoke in indignation: ‘Are we to submit to the wielder of the mace, a Yādava unfit to rule, merely because he commands it?