As Krishna and Balarama stood before the king of Magadha, Jarasandha, he looked upon them with contempt. Addressing Krishna, he sneered, “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight with you—a mere boy—out of shame. Nor with you, who hide behind others, O dullard. Go away, destroyer of kin; I will not fight you.” Turning to Balarama, he challenged, “But you, Rama, if you have faith, fight and show your courage. Either abandon your body, cut down by my arrows, and ascend to heaven, or kill me.” Krishna, the Blessed Lord, responded calmly, “Truly, heroes do not boast; they simply display their valor. We do not heed the words of one who is distressed and facing death, O King.” Then, Shuka narrates, Jarasandha, the son of Jara, surged forward against the two Madhavas, surrounding them with a formidable army of chariots, elephants, horses, and banners. The host enveloped Krishna and Balarama like the wind covers the sun and fire with clouds of dust. Women, witnessing the two chariots of Hari and Rama—marked with the emblems of Garuda and the palm tree—amidst the raging battle, fled to the ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, overcome with grief and confusion. Hari, seeing his own army—honored by gods and demons alike—being repeatedly afflicted by the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy host, sounded his supreme Sharnga bow with a thunderous twang. He drew arrows from his quiver, stringing and releasing sharp volleys, striking down chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers. All the while, his whirling discus never left his hand. Elephants with shattered tusks fell in great numbers; horses with severed necks collapsed; chariots with their horses, banners, drivers, and leaders slain, and foot soldiers with arms, thighs, and necks cut, lay scattered across the battlefield. As the limbs of elephants, horses, and men were severed, rivers of blood flowed in hundreds, filled with arms, horse heads, human skulls, and turtle-like torsos, crowded with the corpses of slain elephants, horses, and warriors. These rivers had waves of arms, hair as waterweeds, bows as currents, and were choked with clusters of weapons. Terrifying whirlpools formed from spinning swords, and the rivers sparkled with gems, pearls, ornaments, and stones. In that battle, Sankarshana—Balarama—of immeasurable brilliance, wielded his mace and struck down the arrogant foes. He caused terror among the timid and joy among the brave, as the warriors destroyed each other. Jarasandha’s army, vast and dreadful as a sea of fire, guarded by the king himself and seemingly insurmountable, was utterly destroyed by the sons of Vasudeva, whose play is supreme in the world. He whose power, infinite in qualities, brings about the creation, maintenance, and destruction of the three worlds by his own play—there is nothing remarkable in his subduing of enemies; yet, for the sake of mortals, it is described. Rama seized Jarasandha, mighty though he was, after his chariot was destroyed and his army slain, just as a lion seizes another lion, overpowering him by sheer strength. Govinda—Krishna—stopped Balarama from binding Jarasandha with human and Varuna’s ropes, after their enemies had been slain, in order to accomplish a certain purpose. Freed by the Lords of the world, Jarasandha, esteemed among heroes, felt ashamed. Resolved upon penance, he was blocked on the road by the kings. With words whose meanings were pure, and even with ordinary glances, this defeat came upon him through the Yadus, as a result of his own actions. When all his forces had been destroyed, the king of the Barhadratha line was disregarded by the Blessed One and departed for Magadha, troubled in mind. Mukunda—Krishna—his strength unscathed and having crossed the ocean of enemy forces, was showered with flowers and praised by the gods. The people of Mathura, free from distress and joyful in spirit, approached him; his victory was sung by charioteers, bards, and minstrels. Conch shells and drums resounded, many trumpets and horns were played, as the Lord entered the city, accompanied by lyres, flutes, and mridangas. The streets were sprinkled, the people were joyful, adorned with flags, echoing with the sound of Vedic chants, and festooned with decorated gateways. He was honored by women with garlands, yogurt, and sprouting grains, and gazed upon with loving, eager eyes. All the wealth, endless and adorned with the ornaments of heroes, gained in battle, was brought and presented by the Lord to the king of the Yadus. Thus, the king of Magadha, with a force as great as seventeen akshauhinis, fought repeatedly with the Yadus, who were protected by Krishna. The Vṛṣṇis, empowered by Krishna’s brilliance, destroyed all that force; when his own troops were slain, the king was abandoned by his allies and departed. In the eighteenth battle, which was about to occur, a hero sent by Narada—a Yavana—appeared in the midst. The foreigner besieged Mathura with three million barbarian troops; in the world of men, he was unmatched, having heard of the Vṛṣṇis, his equals. Seeing him, Krishna, accompanied by Sankarshana, thought, “Alas, a great calamity has come upon the Yadus from both sides.” “This Yavana, immensely powerful, is besieging us today; the king of Magadha will arrive either today, tomorrow, or the day after.” “If Jarasandha comes while we are engaged in battle, he will either kill our kinsmen or, being strong, carry them off to his own city.” “Therefore, today we shall build a fortress, difficult for men to approach; there, after settling our kinsmen, we will destroy the Yavana.” Thus, after due deliberation, the Blessed Lord created a fortress twelve yojanas wide—a wondrous city within the sea. There could be seen the skill of Tvaṣṭṛ—expert craftsmanship—in its streets, crossroads, and avenues, constructed according to proper architectural principles. It was adorned with celestial trees and gardens, marvelous groves, and towers of gold reaching the sky, with crystal mansions and gateways. With silver and gold turrets, treasuries decorated with golden jars, houses crowned with jewels, and great emerald platforms. Built with the houses of the guardians of the quarters and with the residences of beloved women, it was filled with people of all four varṇas, and shone with the homes of the Yadu gods. Sudharmā and the Pārijāta tree were sent there by Indra, O King, where even mortals residing there are not subject to mortal limitations. Varuṇa gave dark-colored horses, swift as the mind and white in hue; the lord of treasures gave eight treasuries; the guardians of the worlds gave all their own opulences. Whatever lordship had been granted by the Blessed Lord for their own perfection, all of it they returned to Hari when He descended to earth, O King. Thus, Krishna and Balarama, through their wisdom and might, protected the Yadus and established a wondrous city, blessed by the gifts of the gods and the guardians of the worlds.