As the mighty Bhima grappled with the monstrous Rakshasa, the battle reached its climax. The huge-bodied demon, struck down, fell to the ground and writhed in agony like a snake beaten with a stick, his immense form dragged here and there by the powerful Pandava. Bhima, swift and relentless, pulled the man-eater about until the Rakshasa, exhausted beyond measure, could fight no more. Seeing his foe’s strength ebbing away, Bhima—foremost among men—pressed the demon down with his knees, pinning him to the earth. With a surge of force, Bhima drove his knee into the Rakshasa’s back, gripping his neck tightly with his right arm. With his left hand, he seized the demon’s waist, catching hold of his garment. Then, pressing down with all his might, Bhima broke the Rakshasa’s back with a resounding crack. Blood welled from the creature’s mouth as Bhima subdued the fierce being. With his side and limbs shattered, the demon—who resembled a mountain king—let out a terrifying roar before succumbing to death. The dreadful cry sent waves of fear through the people and their attendants, who fled in terror from the Rakshasa’s house. At that moment, Baka’s younger brother, trembling, sought refuge with Bhima. Witnessing the death of their mighty leader, the other Rakshasas, struck with terror, also came before Bhima, pleading for protection. Bhima, the peerless warrior, saw their fear and confusion. He comforted them, assuring them of safety, and made a pact: “You must never again harm humans. For those who harm, death comes swiftly. Let it be so.” The Rakshasas agreed, bowing to Bhima, and from that day onward, they lived peacefully among the townsfolk, gentle in their ways. Then Bhima, taking up the lifeless body of the man-eater—whose ears, eyes, and tongue were gone, rendered unconscious by strangling—dragged the corpse to the city gate, making many gestures as he went. He placed the slain Rakshasa at the entrance and entered the city. The people, seeing the massive form, feared the demon had returned. Men, children, and elders fled in panic. Bhima, having vanquished Baka, made his way to the Brahmin’s house. There, he quietly informed the Brahmin about the bullocks and the cart, urging him to enter the house discreetly. In the presence of his mother and brothers, Bhima recounted the entire battle that had taken place during the night. When dawn broke, the townspeople ventured outside and discovered the demon’s blood-soaked body lying at the city gate. The sight of the dreadful, scattered form—looming like a mountain peak—filled them with awe and made their hair stand on end. Word quickly spread through Ekachakra. People flocked to the city in great numbers—men, women, elders, and children—all eager to witness the fate of Baka. Amazed by the superhuman feat, they offered worship to the gods they had once prayed to out of fear. They began to wonder whose turn it had been to deliver food to the demon that day, and after learning it was the Brahmin’s family, they questioned him eagerly. The Brahmin, wishing to protect the Pandavas, replied, “As I wept with my relatives at the cremation ground, a certain Brahmin of great mind, accomplished in mantras, saw me. He asked about my suffering and the troubles of the city, then spoke gently, gaining my trust. He said, ‘I will deliver this food to that wicked one; fear not for me.’ Taking the food, he went into Baka’s forest. By this act, a deed for the good of the world was accomplished.” The townspeople—Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras—were filled with amazement and joy, and they held a great celebration in honor of the Brahmin. People from all over the region came to Ekachakra to witness this wondrous event, and the sons of Pritha remained in the city. Many gathered in the house of the basket-maker, surrounding Bhima, marveling at his terrible prowess. They praised the Brahmin, saying, “Nothing is impossible for great-souled Brahmins.” Honoring him, they encircled him, declaring, “Truly, he is the remover of afflictions, like a father in the highest sense. Wishing to serve him, we attend upon his feet.” They brought him food—meat, curds, and cooked rice—again and again, though they remained anxious and fearful after the slaying. After some time, the Pandavas, scorcher of foes, along with their mother, departed. The Gandharas, steadfast in their vows, made their way toward Ekachakra. There, engaged in Vedic study, wearing matted hair and practicing celibacy, they lived long in the Brahmin’s house with their mother. At this point, a Brahmin inquired, “Having slain the demon Baka, what did the tiger-like Pandavas do next?” The answer was given: After killing Baka, the Pandavas remained in the Brahmin’s house, studying the supreme Veda. Then, after some days, a Brahmin of firm vows arrived at that house, seeking shelter—thus beginning a new chapter in their journey.