Chapter 1: The Duel of Destiny

The air was thick with tension as the music of battle drums echoed across the field. Mirchi presented a special feature, a saga of ancient times: the Times of Puran. Duryodhan's voice cut through the noise like a sharp blade. "I do not accept your argument, Krishna," he declared, his words seething with anger. "You are a liar, a deceiver, and short-tempered. After destroying my clan, what new message do you bring, Vasudeva? This is the fate that should befall someone with your lowly nature. Now, suffer the consequences of all the wrongs you committed out of greed."

Duryodhan, a character from the timeless epic Mahabharata, was known for his pride and determination. Written by the great sage Vyasa, the Mahabharata had been translated into Bengali by many learned scholars like Haridas Siddhanta Bagish, Kaliprasanna Singh, and Rajshekhar Basu. These translations and traditional interpretations inspired a simple version of the Mahabharata, created for entertainment and learning.

After nearly all his warriors were defeated, Duryodhan found himself alone, hiding in the secret waters of the Dvaipayana Lake. It was Ashwatthama who learned of his whereabouts from Sanjay. When this news reached the Pandava camp through spies, Yudhishthira, the eldest of the Pandavas, forced Duryodhan to come out and face him in a mace duel. With a fierce vow, he challenged Duryodhan to fight.

Meanwhile, Balarama, the elder brother of Krishna, heard about the impending duel between Bhima and Duryodhan. For the first time, he arrived at Kurukshetra, where the great war unfolded. Upon his arrival, he accepted the greetings of his brother, Vasudeva Krishna.

"Elder brother Balarama," Krishna said warmly, "I am very pleased to see you unexpectedly on the battlefield. Today, your two dear students, Duryodhan and Bhima, will fight a mace duel. Enjoy watching their battle skills."

Balarama nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I left Dwarka during the Pushya star to go on a pilgrimage, Krishna. I have been traveling to holy places for a long time. If I hadn't heard about the disaster of the Kurukshetra war, I might still be on my pilgrimage. The war has reached its final stage. Today, the helpless great warrior Duryodhan has no one by his side except his teacher, Krishna. I am truly delighted to see you on the battlefield."

"Balarama, come, brother, sit happily among the Pandavas," Krishna invited. But Balarama, who never wanted to take sides, felt his wishes were not respected. Kritavarma had joined the Kauravas with his army, while Satyaki had sided with the Pandavas. Even Krishna, whom Balarama always relied upon, was now Arjuna's charioteer. Heartbroken and upset, Balarama had distanced himself from this war-torn time.

Sage Narada, having visited many holy places like Prabhas, Shabda, and Samanta Panchak, arrived at the banks of Lake Daipayana after hearing about the duel. The mace fight was about to begin. Balarama turned to Yudhishthira and said, "King Yudhishthira, the sages have told me that Kurukshetra is a sacred place. Those who die in battle here live with King Indra in heaven. This Lake Daipayana is not part of Kurukshetra but is in Samanta Panchak. Let's go, King, to that place which is part of Kurukshetra. Let the battle happen there."

"Alright, let it be so, brother," Yudhishthira agreed.

With the decision made, Bhima and Duryodhan headed towards Samanta Panchak. The mace fight would take place there, as Balarama wished. Everyone walked to the open land on the southern bank of the Saraswati River at Samanta Panchak. The Pandavas surrounded the two warriors, while Krishna and Balarama stood by their side.

The battle began with Bhima and Duryodhan bowing to Balarama. Then, like roaring bulls, they charged at each other with great speed. The intense mace fight saw the two great warriors trying to find each other's weaknesses, striking each other with powerful blows. Both fighters got hurt, bloodied from the fierce exchange. At one point, Bhima almost fainted, and then Duryodhan fell unconscious from Bhima's strike. Bhima's armor was torn, and blood dripped from his wounds. Duryodhan stood up with bloodshot eyes, wiping the blood from his face, ready to continue the fight.

Seeing Bhima's bloodied body, his brothers Nakula and Sahadeva, along with Dhrishtadyumna and Satyaki, rushed towards Duryodhana, ready to aid Bhima. But Bhima, with a fierce determination, raised his mace and stopped them. "Stay back," he commanded, his voice strong despite his wounds. He turned his attention back to Duryodhana and attacked again with renewed vigor.

The battle raged on, with neither warrior able to gain the upper hand. They used every technique and skill they had learned, but it seemed as if the fight would never end. Both fighters, though hurt, found the strength to continue. The Pandavas, watching from the sidelines, grew impatient and worried.

Arjuna turned to Krishna, his voice filled with concern. "There seems to be no result from this fight. Can Bhima defeat Duryodhana? Who do you think is the better warrior, Madhava?"

Krishna, ever wise, replied, "Both are the best students of my elder brother Balarama. He taught them equally. But there is a subtle difference between them. Bhima has more physical strength, while Duryodhana is a skillful fighter. In a fair fight, skill often prevails. Arjuna, Duryodhana cannot be defeated or killed in a fair fight."

Arjuna's eyes widened, his voice rising with urgency. "What are you saying, Madhava? If Bhima cannot win, all our victories will be in vain. Will we be defeated, Madhava?"

Krishna's gaze was steady. "Arjun, do you remember what the wise teacher Shukracharya said? If an old, nearly defeated warrior returns to the battlefield, he becomes incredibly fierce. That is what Duryodhana is doing now."

"Is there no way to protect Bhima, Madhav?" Arjuna asked, desperation in his voice.

"Because of King Yudhishthira's mistake, we are in deep trouble again," Krishna explained. "He once brought danger upon us in the royal court, and now he has done it again. Even when victory is so close, the royal fortune still seems far away. The eldest Pandava has vowed that if any one of the Pandavas is killed, Duryodhana will be declared the winner of the war. In this situation, it's no surprise that Duryodhana will fight desperately. Please save us, Krishna. Show us the way."

Krishna nodded, a plan forming in his mind. "Guide us, Janardana, guide us. To calm the deceitful Duryodhana, he must be defeated with his own weapon. To conquer deceit, sometimes deceit is necessary. If Bhima fights fairly, the Pandavas will be in danger. There is a way to escape this danger. After Draupadi's humiliation in the royal court, Bhima vowed to break Duryodhana's thigh. Now is the time to fulfill that promise, Arjun. There is no other way to defeat Duryodhana."

Hearing Krishna's words, Arjuna looked at Bhima and slapped his own forehead, a signal of understanding. Bhima, catching Arjuna's gaze, remembered the terrifying events from thirteen years ago. Exhausted in battle, he suddenly saw Duryodhana before him and hurled his mace with great force. Duryodhana struck back fiercely, and Bhima fell, seeing blood and darkness.

When Bhima regained consciousness, he focused on Duryodhana, who leapt with the strength of a lion to avoid another blow. At that moment, Bhima roared, a powerful shout that echoed across the battlefield. With a mighty swing, Bhima broke both of Duryodhana's thighs with his mace. Duryodhana screamed in agony and collapsed to the ground.

"Wicked Duryodhana!" Bhima shouted, his voice filled with righteous fury. "We do not deceive in the royal court, cheat in gambling, or commit any injustice. We do not set fire to others' homes. We defeat our enemies with our own strength. This is the fate that should befall a vile creature like you." Filled with anger, Bhima kicked Duryodhana's head with his left foot.

As Duryodhana fell, the sky seemed to respond with wrath. Dust, blood, and meteors rained down, and the cries of spirits, demons, and ghosts echoed in the air. The magical and heroic beings, displeased by the turn of events, created an atmosphere of intense hostility. Yet, Bhima stood firm, his promise fulfilled, as the battle's end drew near.

Chapter 2: The Weight of Victory

Yudhishthira approached Bhima, still trembling from the intensity of the battle. "Stop, Bhima," he urged gently but firmly. "Whether by fair means or foul, you have taken your revenge on Duryodhana. You have fulfilled your vow. King Duryodhana is now in pain, half-dead. Do not insult him in this state, Bhima. Forgive him, O King. I cannot treat this deceitful Duryodhana with the respect given to saints or friends."

Yudhishthira's voice carried a weight of sorrow as he continued, "Duryodhana was the leader of eleven mighty armies. He was the king of the Kauravas. No matter his nature, he is your cousin, Bhima. By striking his head, you have sinned. He is your brother. Bhima, his sons are dead, his grandsons are gone. He has lost everything. Yet you mock him. Mourn for him, Bhima, mourn for him."

As Yudhishthira scolded Bhima, his eyes fell upon Duryodhana's helpless, pain-stricken body. A wave of sorrow washed over him. The eldest Pandava sat beside Duryodhana and spoke in a deep, somber voice, "Do not grieve, Duryodhana. This is the result of your own actions. You suffer this terrible pain because of your past sins. It is because of your wrongdoings that we had to kill your brothers and kin. Do not mourn for yourself, Duryodhana. You will receive the death a warrior desires."

"But even in victory, we are filled with sorrow," Yudhishthira continued, feeling the weight of the battle's aftermath pressing down on him. "The tears of grieving brothers and widows will haunt me. Duryodhana, do not grieve, O King. Duryodhana has faced the consequences of his actions. You know the subtle truths of righteousness. So, this unrest does not suit you."

Nearby, Balarama's face was a storm of anger and disappointment. "Shame on you, Bhima, shame on you," he thundered. "Bhima struck Duryodhana below the navel. Is this a righteous war? I taught him this. Yes, this war is completely unfair. Foolish Bhima has done this wrongful act on his own. He will not escape my wrath. I will kill him with my plow. Today is your last day. Prepare for death now."

Krishna, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward, his tone calm and soothing. "Elder, calm yourself. Elder, I beg you, control yourself. The teachings of the scriptures are my only refuge in this war. Elder, one should consider the prosperity of oneself, one's friends, and the friends of one's friends as one's own glory. On the other hand, one should find joy in the downfall of enemies, the downfall of the friends of enemies, and the friends of those friends, as it ultimately contributes to one's own success. You know this."

"Elder, who are you angry with? Satyakrishna, who has angered you here? The Pandavas are our natural allies. Elder, they are the children of our paternal uncle. They are our brothers. Though the Kauravas are related to us, you know well the injustice and cruelty they have inflicted upon the Pandavas."

In the meeting, Bhima had vowed to break Duryodhana's thigh, which was a promise he made as a warrior. Keeping promises is important for warriors. Besides, the sage Maitri had also cursed Duryodhana with this fate. The words of a sage cannot be false. I don't see any fault in Bhima. Please, calm down."

Balarama shook his head, unconvinced by Krishna's words. "Krishna, I am not pleased with your clever words. Bhima used trickery, and he will be infamous for it. Duryodhana will gain eternal heaven for fighting a fair battle. He has sacrificed himself in a great ritual and will surely reap its rewards. He will be honored. Just like the great reward from a holy bath after a ritual, Duryodhana will receive it. My words will not be false."

With a final, indignant huff, Balarama declared, "Govinda, I will not stay here any longer. I am going to Dwarka. I cannot bear this injustice anymore. I just can't take it."

Filled with anger and pride, Balarama climbed onto his chariot and rode away, his departure leaving a void in the battlefield. The Yadavas and Pandavas stood silently, their heads bowed, feeling the sorrow of the moment. No one spoke a word, and a long time passed this way.

The air was still, filled only with the echoes of what had transpired, leaving everyone to ponder the complex web of righteousness and revenge that had brought them here.

Chapter 3: The Battle's Aftermath

As the dust settled on the battlefield, the weight of the war hung heavily in the air. Yudhishthira turned to Krishna, his voice tinged with sorrow and a touch of defiance. "Bhima kicked Duryodhana on the head, Krishna," he began, his gaze steady, "but I did not. The destruction this war has caused brings me no joy. The Bharata kingdom wronged us greatly, and none of us can forget those wrongs. Bhima remembers them deeply, and his actions stem from his frustration. I understand that clearly."

Yudhishthira paused, letting his words sink in. "So, I have chosen to overlook Bhima's behavior. Whether his actions were right or wrong, he has achieved his goal by defeating the greedy and rude Duryodhana. That is my wish now, Vasudeva. When you, the king of righteousness, have forgiven Bhima, let him achieve his goal and be free of regret. May Bhima bring victory to King Yudhishthira. The world is now at peace. You should rule the kingdom happily and follow your duties."

Krishna nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and wisdom. "Following Krishna's advice, we have won the battle," Yudhishthira continued, his voice softening. "You have also freed yourself from your anger. Without Bhima defeating the enemy, you would not have been free from this debt."

Yudhishthira, Bhima, and Krishna shared a moment of quiet relief, but Arjuna stood apart, his heart still restless. Though Krishna sensed Arjuna's turmoil, he chose to remain silent, letting the moment unfold. Meanwhile, the Yadava, Panchala, and Srinjaya warriors erupted in jubilant roars. They waved their scarves in celebration, their voices lifting in triumphant songs.

The Panchala soldiers approached Bhima, their admiration unhidden. "Great warrior Bhima," they exclaimed, "you crushed the wicked Duryodhana like a wild elephant. You drank Dushasana's blood like a lion. Look at the mighty tree; even after Duryodhana's fall, the thrill we felt hasn't faded. Take back your words. A soldier shouldn't insult a defeated enemy. This shameless Duryodhana ignored wise advice because of his sin and greed, and that's when he truly fell. Now he's like a useless log on the ground. There's no need to hurt him with words."

Their words hung in the air like a gentle reprimand, but the peace was soon shattered by Duryodhana's voice, raw with pain and anger. Struggling to sit up, he glared at Krishna, his wounds still bleeding, his body twisted in agony. Yet, his spirit burned fiercely. "Son of Kansa's servant," he spat, "aren't you ashamed? You defeated me unfairly in battle and now lecture others. Bhima didn't even remember his vow to break my thigh; you reminded him."

Duryodhana's eyes blazed with fury as he continued, "Krishna, you told Arjuna things I wasn't supposed to hear, but I heard everything. That's why I despise you, Krishna. You call us deceivers, but what about you, Keshava? Because of your tricks, thousands of our warriors died. You even planned for Arjuna to kill our grandfather Bhishma by using Shikhandi."

His voice grew louder with each accusation. "Yes, yes, why blame me, Krishna? The wise Bhishma himself told Arjuna how to defeat him. Don't pretend, Krishna; you can't fool me. If you hadn't guided Arjuna, he could never have done it. Didn't you make Yudhishthira lie, Krishna? If Drona hadn't heard that Ashwatthama was dead, he wouldn't have put down his weapons. Without that, you couldn't have defeated him, Krishna."

Duryodhana's words cut through the silence, each one sharper than the last. "And what about Karna? What did you do during Karna's time? When the unarmed warrior was lifting the chariot wheel from the ground, you had Arjuna kill him in that helpless state. Let's not even talk about Jayadratha. You used tricks against fair battle, Keshav. Under your illusion, all the warriors were enchanted, and one by one, they all went to the land of the dead. If you had encouraged the Pandavas to fight fairly, they would never have won. You knew this, Krishna. Talking about right and wrong doesn't suit you, Duryodhana."

As Duryodhana's voice faded, the battlefield remained silent, the echoes of his accusations lingering in the heavy air. The warriors stood still, the weight of his words pressing down on them, challenging the very essence of their victory.

Chapter 4: The Echoes of War

The battlefield lay silent, a vast expanse of dust and shadows, as Duryodhana's words hung heavily in the air. The warriors, still as statues, felt the weight of his accusations pressing down upon them, challenging the very core of their hard-won victory.

Krishna, standing amidst the fallen, spoke with a voice both firm and gentle. "Duryodhana, what have you done your whole life? You have favored wrongdoing and never acted fairly with the Pandavas. You oppressed those who wished to do right. And now, in your time of trouble, you speak of justice. It is you who have sinned, Duryodhana. Your friends and relatives who supported your wrongs have perished. Today, you mourn for the world, but it was you who brought harm to the Pandavas."

Krishna's eyes were steady as he continued, "You speak of Karna? His battle strategies were flawed, yet Arjuna showed mercy. Because of that mercy, you, Karna, Bhishma, and Drona returned alive from the great city. If this were common knowledge, your arguments would hold no weight. You accuse me of deceit, Duryodhana, but the faults you point out stem from your own crimes. The wrongs you committed out of greed have consequences."

Duryodhana, though weakened, sat up with defiance. "Do not think I am helpless, Krishna. I have ruled the earth, studied, given charity, and defeated enemies. I have enjoyed a kingdom meant for the gods. Now, I have gained the warrior's death I desired. This is my greatest glory. Who in the world is luckier than me? I am with my friends and companions."

His voice softened as he continued, "I will go to heaven, Krishna, because of you. For you, there will be nothing but joy and peace." With these words, Duryodhana's face grew calm, and he lay back, resting his head on the earth. Suddenly, flowers rained down from the sky, and celestial beings and fairies began to dance and sing in his honor. The Pandavas, witnessing this spectacle, stood with bowed heads, their hearts heavy with a mix of emotions.

Krishna turned to them, his voice soothing. "Do not grieve, Maharaj. It is impossible to defeat brave warriors like Drona and Duryodhana in a fair fight. That is why I used different strategies. When the enemy is strong, such methods are justified. Even the gods fight this way. We have won the war, and you have regained your lost kingdom. Now is the time for joy, not sorrow."

Accepting Krishna's wisdom, the Pandavas rode their chariots to Duryodhana's camp. There, Duryodhana's servants and ministers awaited them with folded hands. Following Krishna's advice, Arjuna dismounted his chariot and took down his Gandiva bow and quiver. Krishna also stepped down, and as he did, the fierce monkey emblem on Arjuna's chariot vanished, and the divine chariot and its weapons were consumed by flames.

Astonished, Arjuna turned to Krishna. "What happened to my chariot, Madhav? Why did it burn up for no reason?"

Krishna smiled gently. "Calm down, Arjuna. Your chariot was set on fire by many powerful weapons during the battle. But because I was on it, it didn't burn until now. The war is over, and you have won. That divine chariot is no longer needed, so as soon as I stepped down, it returned to its rightful place."

In Duryodhana's camp, the Pandava warriors rejoiced at the sight of countless treasures and riches. Yet, following Krishna's advice, the five Pandavas and Satyaki decided to leave the camp and spend the night by the river. Though surprised, they trusted Krishna's wisdom.

By the river, Krishna found Yudhishthira standing alone, lost in thought. "The war is over, and now is the time for joy, Maharaj. Why are you still so worried?" he asked, his voice carrying compassion and understanding.

Yudhishthira stood by the river, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as he gazed into the flowing water. His heart was heavy, and he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. Krishna, with his ever-knowing gaze, approached him quietly.

"You understand me well, Janardana," Yudhishthira admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am indeed very worried. No, it's not just worry; I am counting the hours in fear, Madhav. Counting the hours in fear."

Krishna's eyes softened with compassion. "Tell me the reason for your worry, Maharaj," he urged gently.

Yudhishthira sighed deeply, the burden of his thoughts evident in his posture. "I will tell you, Madhav. You are our greatest friend, our only savior. It is because of your grace that we have regained our kingdom. But Queen Gandhari, the mother of the fallen sons and grandsons, is extremely..."

He paused, struggling to find the right words. "Tapaswini is very angry. Madhav, I am really scared of the sorrow and anger of that holy woman. She might destroy us. Madhav Janardan, you have endured so much for us, many attacks and harsh words. Krishna, I pray to you, please save us from this great danger. Keshav, calm the anger of the grieving mother Gandhari. Go to the palace of Hastinapur, Keshav. Please ask her to forgive us. She cannot ignore your words."

Krishna nodded, his expression resolute. "Don't worry, Maharaj. I am heading to Hastinapur right now."

As Krishna's charioteer, Daruka, guided the chariot towards the capital, they passed through a city that seemed to mourn. The usual noise and vibrant colors were replaced by a somber silence. The once bright flags hung limp, and the pillars were coated with dust. Gardens and ponds, once teeming with life, now lay dull and lifeless. Faces of the people mirrored their surroundings, void of joy. Even the animals, the horses and bulls, appeared thinner and weary.

In this silent, empty city, Krishna's chariot entered. Word quickly spread of Vasudeva Krishna's arrival, and King Dhritarashtra ordered a welcome for him. Guards and ministers escorted Krishna to the royal court, where the emptiness of the palace was as palpable as the absence of Duryodhana.

In the grand hall, the great sage Vyasa stood with a gentle smile. "What a blessing it is to have the chance to honor your presence, Madhusudan," he said warmly. "With your blessings, the Pandavas have won the righteous war. Balance, justice, and truth will be restored on earth. Seeing the main hero of this righteous establishment fills me with great joy. Vasudeva, may you all be blessed."

King Dhritarashtra, his eyes clouded with grief, addressed Krishna with a trembling voice. "Vasudeva, Vasudeva, where have you left my hundred sons, my dear Duryodhana, the great teacher Dronacharya, and the world-famous warriors? Vasudeva, what joy did you find in extinguishing all the light in my heart?"

Krishna listened with patience and empathy. "Vasudeva, King Dhritarashtra, the Pandavas tried hard to prevent the destruction of the family. King Yudhishthira never wanted this war. To stop the killing of relatives, he did not even claim his kingdom. On his behalf, I asked for just five villages for the Pandavas. Remember, Maharaj, but no, you did not agree to give them. The wise Kripacharya, Vidura, and others repeatedly requested you. Do you remember, Maharaj?"

Dhritarashtra shook his head, his voice filled with regret. "I am not the one, I am not the one, Krishna. Duryodhana did not want it, and because he did not want it, I could not give it. I could not give it."

Krishna's voice was firm yet kind. "Your Majesty, you are the king. The whole kingdom is under your rule. It is your duty to treat your subjects and relatives fairly. In the eyes of justice, you are responsible for all these actions, Your Majesty, you are responsible. You are also the reason my peace proposal failed. Your..."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "You could not control your son, Your Majesty. Now, don't harm yourself by blaming the Pandavas. Your Majesty, the Pandavas will now carry out the duties for your family, like protecting the family and performing rituals. So, do not hold anger and hatred towards the Pandavas, Your Majesty. I request you to accept the Pandavas with a calm mind."

With Krishna's request and comfort, King Dhritarashtra gradually calmed down. Holding Krishna's hands, he began to cry silently. With his touch and care, Krishna soothed the old king of Hastinapur and then stood before Queen Gandhari.

Chapter 5: A Mother's Grief

Krishna bowed slightly before the grieving queen. "Accept my respects, Queen Gandhari," he said gently.

Gandhari's voice trembled with sorrow, her eyes hidden behind the cloth that shielded her from the world's light. "What new news have you come to give after destroying my family, Vasudeva? Or have you come to see a grieving mother with your own eyes? You are detached, without sorrow, fear, or attachment. To you, this battlefield might just be a place of duty, but to a mother like me, to a mother of a hundred sons, this battlefield is actually a graveyard, Vasudeva, a graveyard."

Krishna's voice was calm and steady. "Queen Gandhari, it is unbearable for a mother to lose a hundred sons. But, Your Majesty, you knew the line between right and wrong. Where there is righteousness, there is victory. Didn't you tell this to Duryodhana? Your words have now come true, Your Majesty. So, I ask you to control your anger. The Pandavas' victory is actually a victory of righteousness. You know this. Kesava has given righteousness a very high place. Since birth, I have never remembered anyone other than righteousness. What curse has fate given me?"

Bhima, standing nearby, urged gently, "Krishna, please be calm. Queen Mother, be calm. Your grief, sorrow, and anger will bring harm to the world. You are a sage. If anger flows from your eyes due to your power, it can burn everything. Control yourself, Queen Mother. You know of Dharma Raja's love and devotion towards you. He is burning in the fire of sorrow day and night. He is ashamed to come before you. He is innocent. Do not hold hatred towards the Pandavas, Your Majesty. They are like your sons."

Gandhari's voice softened, a flicker of hope in her words. "Did you tell the truth? All this sadness and worry made my heart restless. Your words calmed me down, Vasudeva. Now, apart from you and the Pandavas, we have no one else to rely on, Krishna. There is no one else. Along with King Yudhishthira and the five Pandavas, I will care for you as if you were my own parents. Dear lady, please be at peace. Bless the Pandavas."

Krishna nodded, his expression serious. "I have to leave right away because Ashwatthama has made a terrible plan to destroy the Pandavas. I shouldn't delay any longer."

Gandhari's concern was immediate. "What terrible news! Please protect Kunti's sons, Vasudeva. Let no harm come to them. Bring the Pandavas with you to Hastinapura, Keshava. I wish I could touch you once more."

"Your command is my duty, Maharaja. I will surely return," Krishna assured them.

After offering his final respects to Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, Krishna swiftly departed Hastinapura in Daruka's chariot, racing towards Kurukshetra. As the night deepened, Krishna's heart was heavy with the knowledge of Ashwatthama's dreadful plan. Only he had the power to stop it.

With the speed of the wind, Vasudeva Krishna headed towards Kurukshetra. The wounded Duryodhana had granted Ashwatthama permission, and now he was ready, his heart filled with vengeance. Lord Shiva himself had come to empower him for this terrible act. With Shiva's strength, Ashwatthama picked up a dreadful sword, and no one else had the strength to stop him now.