Bhīmasena, Arjuna, and Kṛṣṇa—three noble souls bearing the marks of Brahmins—set out for Girivraja, the city where Jarāsandha, son of Bṛhadratha, ruled. Arriving at the proper hour for guests, they entered the house of the king, disguised as Brahmins, and conducted themselves according to custom. Addressing the king, they announced, “O King, know that guests have arrived—seekers who have come from afar. O fortunate one, grant us what we desire.” They spoke further, reflecting on the nature of virtue and generosity: “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 have attained the eternal by means of the impermanent—like Hariścandra, Rantideva, Śibi, Bali, the hunter, and the pigeon.” Śuka explained that Jarāsandha, by their voices, appearance, and even the marks left by bowstrings on their hands, recognized them as royal guests he had seen before. He pondered, “These relatives of the royal order are disguised as Brahmins. I will give them even my own self, though it is difficult to relinquish.” Remembering the fame of Bali, who, though deprived of his wealth by Viṣṇu in Brahmin form, was renowned everywhere, Jarāsandha reflected: “Desiring Indra’s wealth, Viṣṇu took the earth from Bali, king of the Daityas, who, though aware, still gave it. What purpose does the body of a kṣatriya serve if not to live for Brahmins? When the body falls here, great fame is attained.” With this noble resolve, Jarāsandha addressed Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna, and Bhīmasena: “O Brahmins, ask for whatever you desire—even my own head I will give you.” The Blessed Lord replied, “O King, grant us battle, if you consider it fitting to fight in pairs. We have come seeking combat, desiring nothing else but battle with the royal order.” Kṛṣṇa then 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, said, “Then, I will grant you battle, O fools. I will not fight with you, coward, whose valor is uncertain; you abandoned your own city, Mathurā, and took refuge by the sea. This one is equal to me in age, but not in strength; Arjuna is not fit to fight, but Bhīma is equal in might to me.” Having spoken thus, Jarāsandha gave a great mace to Bhīmasena, took another for himself, and went out from the city. The two mighty warriors met on the field, wild with the thrill of battle, and struck each other with maces as heavy as thunderbolts. Their fight shone as they moved in intricate circles, to the left and right, like dancers upon a stage. The crash of their maces resounded like thunderbolts, as if the tusks of elephants were clashing. With great speed, the maces struck shoulders, hips, feet, knees, and heads, and were soon shattered, just as the branches of the sun are broken when two blazing elephants fight. Still enraged, the two heroes battered each other with their iron-hard fists, the sound of their blows as fierce as thunderbolts. They struck each other, equal in skill, strength, and vigor; the battle was indistinguishable, for neither’s speed diminished. Thus they fought, O great king, for twenty-seven days, while their friends watched from the sidelines at night. Once, Vṛkodara (Bhīma) said to his cousin Kṛṣṇa, “O Mādhava, I am not able to defeat Jarāsandha in battle.” Knowing the secret of Jarāsandha’s life—that it was sustained by Jara—Hari (Kṛṣṇa) strengthened Bhīma with his own energy and considered what to do. Thinking of a means to slay the enemy, Kṛṣṇa, whose vision never fails, gave a sign to Bhīma by tearing a branch in two, as if to demonstrate. Understanding the hint, the mighty Bhīma seized Jarāsandha by the feet and threw him to the ground. Placing one foot upon Jarāsandha’s leg and grasping the other with his arms, Bhīma tore him apart from the anus, like a great elephant splitting a branch. The people 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 at the king of Magadha’s death. Bhīma, Kṛṣṇa, and Arjuna were embraced and honored as victors. Then 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 ends the seventy-second chapter, “The Slaying of Jarāsandha,” in the second half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. 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. Emaciated by hunger, their faces dried up and tormented by confinement, they saw before them the dark-complexioned Lord, dressed in yellow silk. They beheld him marked with the Śrīvatsa, four-armed, with lotus-like reddish eyes, a beautiful, gracious face, and shining makara-shaped earrings. He held a lotus, mace, conch, and discus, adorned with a crown, necklace, bracelets, a girdle, and armlets. His neck shone with the best of jewels, garlanded with forest flowers. The freed kings drank him in with their eyes, as if tasting him with their tongues, seeming to smell him with their noses and embrace him with their arms. Freed from sin, they bowed with their heads at Hari’s feet.