No one in this world surpasses me in power, fame, wealth, or opulence—not even the gods, much less earthly kings. So spoke the Lord, and, hearing these confident words, King Yudhiṣṭhira’s face blossomed with joy. Empowered by Viṣṇu’s energy, he sent forth his brothers to conquer the directions, commissioning them as his agents to gather tribute for the great Rājasūya sacrifice. Sahadeva, accompanied by the Sṛñjayas, was dispatched to the southern quarter; Nakula journeyed west; Arjuna set out toward the north; and mighty Bhīma, with the Matsyas, Kekayas, and Madras, marched east. These valiant brothers subdued the kings in all directions by their strength and returned with abundant wealth to Ajātaśatru—Yudhiṣṭhira—so that the grand sacrifice might be performed. Yet, when Yudhiṣṭhira heard that the powerful Jarāsandha remained unconquered, he pondered what to do. At that moment, Hari—Kṛṣṇa—spoke of the method that Uddhava had previously described. Thus, Bhīmasena, Arjuna, and Kṛṣṇa, disguising themselves as Brahmins, journeyed to Girivraja, the city where Jarāsandha, son of Bṛhadratha, ruled. Arriving at the appropriate hour for guests, they entered the house of the king, behaving according to custom and concealing their royal identities. Announcing their arrival, they said, “O king, guests have come—seekers from afar. O fortunate one, grant us what we desire.” They spoke further, reflecting on the virtues of generosity and fame: “What is unbearable for the patient? What is improper for the unrighteous? What is not to be given by the generous? Who is superior to those who see all equally? He who, though able, does not earn lasting fame among the virtuous with his impermanent body is truly pitiable. Many—Hariścandra, Rantideva, Śibi, Bali, the hunter, the pigeon—have attained the eternal by means of the impermanent.” Jarāsandha, perceptive as he was, recognized them by their voices, their appearance, and even the marks left on their hands by bowstrings. He thought to himself, “These are kṣatriya relatives, bearing the marks of Brahmins. I will give them even my own self, which is difficult to relinquish, as alms.” He recalled the fame of Bali, which remained pure and widespread in all directions, even after Viṣṇu, disguised as a Brahmin, took his wealth. Desiring Indra’s wealth, Viṣṇu had received the earth from Bali, king of the Daityas, who, though aware and self-restrained, still gave it away. Jarāsandha mused, “What purpose does this kṣatriya body serve, if not to be given for the sake of Brahmins? When the body falls for such a cause, great fame is attained.” Thus resolved, he addressed his guests: “O Brahmins, choose your desire; I will give even my own head to you.” Then the Blessed Lord Kṛṣṇa spoke: “O king, grant us battle, if you deem it fit to fight in pairs. We have come seeking combat, desiring nothing else but battle with the royal order.” Kṛṣṇa revealed their true identities: “This is Bhīmasena, O Partha; his brother is Arjuna. Know me, Kṛṣṇa, as their maternal uncle and your enemy.” Hearing this, the king of Magadha laughed loudly and, angered, replied, “Then I will grant you battle, O fools. I will not fight with you, O Kṛṣṇa, for your valor is uncertain—you abandoned Mathurā and fled to the sea. This one,” he said, gesturing to Arjuna, “is equal to me in age but not in strength; Arjuna is not fit to fight, but Bhīma is my equal in might.” Having thus spoken, Jarāsandha handed a great mace to Bhīmasena and took another himself. Together, they went out from the city to the battlefield. There, the two heroes, equally matched, met in combat—wild with the thrill of battle, they struck each other with maces as mighty as thunderbolts. The fight shone brilliantly as they moved in intricate circles, left and right, like skilled dancers upon a stage. The crashing of their maces sounded like thunderbolts colliding, like the clash of elephant tusks. With the speed of their arms, their maces struck shoulders, hips, feet, knees, and heads, until both weapons were shattered, just as the rays of the sun are broken when two blazing elephants fight. Undeterred, the warriors battered each other with their iron-hard fists, the impact of their blows resounding like thunder. So evenly matched were they in skill, strength, and vigor that the battle was indistinguishable; neither’s speed diminished. Thus, O king, they fought for twenty-seven days, while their friends stood by at night. At last, Bhīma said to Kṛṣṇa, his maternal cousin, “O Mādhava, I am not able to defeat Jarāsandha in battle.” Kṛṣṇa, who knew the secret of Jarāsandha’s birth and death—that his life was sustained by Jara—strengthened Bhīma with his own energy and pondered a solution. The all-knowing Lord devised a sign: he tore a branch in two, demonstrating the means to vanquish the enemy. Bhīma, understanding the signal, seized Jarāsandha by the feet and hurled him to the ground. Placing one foot upon his enemy’s leg and grasping the other with his arms, Bhīma tore Jarāsandha asunder from the anus, like a mighty elephant splitting a branch. All who witnessed saw the body split into two parts—one with a single leg, thigh, testicle, hip, back, breast, and shoulder; the other with one arm, eye, brow, and ear. A great outcry arose as the king of Magadha was slain. Bhīma and his companions—Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna—were embraced and honored for their victory. The Lord, creator of beings and master of himself, anointed Sahadeva, Jarāsandha’s son, as king of the Magadhas, and released the kings whom Jarāsandha had imprisoned. Thus, the seventy-second chapter, entitled “The Slaying of Jarāsandha,” concludes in the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa. Śuka continued: Sixteen thousand eight hundred kings, who had been defeated in battle and imprisoned, emerged from the mountain cave—dirty and clad in soiled garments—now freed by the grace and valor of the Lord and his companions.