The first light of dawn crept over Magadha's borders, casting a golden hue on the vast battlefield where the Pandava army encamped, their tents fluttering like banners of defiance.
Bahubali, having completed his morning rituals—Surya Puja with offered water and flowers, followed by prayers to Mahadev with bilva leaves and chants of "Om Namah Shivaya"—strode from Rajgir's gates, his rudraksha mala gleaming against his white dhoti.
Accompanied by a small retinue of veiled soldiers, he approached the Pandavas' lines, where Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva awaited, their weapons ready, the air thick with tension.
The armies on both sides watched, the silence broken only by the distant call of birds.
"Pranipat, Dharmaraja Yudhishthira and Pandavas," Bahubali said, his voice steady and resonant, halting at a respectful distance. "The sun rises on this day of trial. Who will face me first in your one-on-one duels?"
Yudhishthira, his regal bearing unshaken, nodded. "Pranipat, Magadha Naresh. We meet as warriors honoring dharma. Sahadeva will begin."
Sahadeva, the youngest Pandava, stepped forward, his sword drawn, his lithe form clad in silver armor, his eyes sharp with determination.
Bahubali drew his own sword, Agnikhanda, its blade pulsing with faint heat, and they circled each other on the open field, the armies forming a wide ring.
Sahadeva lunged first, his sword a silver blur, thrusting with precision honed by Dronacharya's training.
Bahubali parried effortlessly, his Agnikhanda clashing with sparks, his movements fluid like the Ganga's flow.
Sahadeva's strikes were swift, aiming for Bahubali's joints and gaps in his kavach, but Bahubali dodged with graceful tilts, his counter-thrusts testing Sahadeva's guard.
The crowd murmured as Sahadeva spun, his blade arcing in a deadly sweep, but Bahubali blocked it with a resounding clang, pushing back with controlled strength.
The duel intensified, Sahadeva invoking a lesser astra, his sword glowing with ethereal light as he charged.
Bahubali chanted softly, summoning a defensive shield that absorbed the energy, then countered with a precise slash that nicked Sahadeva's armor.
Sahadeva's breaths grew ragged, his attacks fierce but increasingly desperate, while Bahubali remained calm, his vajra body unyielding.
The Pandavas watched anxiously—Yudhishthira murmuring, "Sahadeva, hold your ground!"
Bhima clenched his fists, "Fight on, brother!"
For two hours, the clash rang out, Sahadeva's agility meeting Bahubali's superior skill.
Sahadeva feinted left, striking right, but Bahubali anticipated, disarming him with a swift twist, Sahadeva's sword flying into the dust.
Sahadeva staggered, defeated but unbowed. Bahubali lowered his blade, his voice respectful. "You fought with honor, Sahadeva. Rest now."
Sahadeva, breathing heavily, bowed slightly, his face flushed with frustration as he retreated, the Pandavas' expressions darkening—Nakula whispering, "He made it look easy!"
Yudhishthira signaled Nakula, the fourth Pandava, who stepped forward with twin swords, his handsome face set in determination, his armor polished to a mirror shine. "I'll avenge my brother, Bahubali," Nakula said, his voice sharp.
Bahubali switched to a spear, its tip crackling with divine energy, and they faced off, the crowd's murmurs rising.
Nakula charged, his twin blades a whirlwind, slashing in coordinated arcs that forced Bahubali back a step.
Nakula's style was elegant, his swords dancing like serpents, aiming for Bahubali's flanks and legs. Bahubali parried with his spear, its shaft blocking the blades with metallic rings, then thrust forward, testing Nakula's defenses.
Nakula dodged gracefully, his footwork a testament to his training, countering with a cross-slash that grazed Bahubali's kavach.
The Pandavas cheered, Sahadeva shouting, "Show him, Nakula!" Yudhishthira nodded, "Your agility will prevail!"
The duel flowed like a river, Nakula's speed clashing with Bahubali's precision. Nakula invoked the Vayvayastra through his swords, summoning winds that whipped dust into Bahubali's eyes, but Bahubali countered with the parvatatastra energy, stilling the gale.
For two and a half hours, they battled, Nakula's endurance waning as Bahubali's strikes grew relentless.
Finally, Bahubali disarmed one sword with a spear sweep, then locked the other, twisting it from Nakula's grip.
Nakula yielded, panting. "You're formidable, Magadha Naresh."
Bahubali bowed. "Your grace honors the field, Nakula." T
he Pandavas frowned, Bhima growling, "He's tiring, but not broken yet."
Yudhishthira, the Dharmaraja, stepped forward next, his spear in hand, his regal armor reflecting the sun. "I am your next opponent, Magadh Naresh," he said, his voice steady.
Bahubali switched to his axe, its edge glowing with starlight, and they circled, Yudhishthira's calm demeanor masking his skill.
Yudhishthira thrust with precision, his spear darting like a serpent, but Bahubali blocked with his axe's handle, countering with a swing that Yudhishthira parried.
Yudhishthira's style was strategic, his attacks measured, probing Bahubali's defenses. "Your reforms inspire, Bahubali, but the Rajasuya demands submission," he said mid-thrust.
Bahubali replied, dodging, "Dharma unites through choice, not conquest, Dharmaraja." The duel was a dance of intellect and strength, Yudhishthira invoking the Agneya astra form, a fire slash surging, but Bahubali countered with varunastra, neutralizing it in a burst of water.
The Pandavas watched, Nakula saying, "Bhrata Yudhishthira's wisdom will win!"
Sahadeva added, "His spear strikes true!"
For four hours, they clashed, Yudhishthira's endurance impressive, but Bahubali's superior skill wore him down.
Bahubali feinted, then struck Yudhishthira's spear, splintering it, forcing surrender.
Yudhishthira bowed. "You've proven your might, Bahubali. Dharma guides us both."
Bahubali returned the bow. "Your wisdom honors the field, Yuvraj."
The Pandavas' faces darkened, Arjuna muttering, "Three down—he's no god."
Bhima, the last, strode forward, his massive mace in hand, his eyes blazing with eagerness. "Finally, a real fight! Mace or wrestling, sutaputra?"
Bahubali smiled. "Your choice, Bhimasen. Let's honor your strength."
Bhima grinned. "Mace it is! Prepare to feel the might of ten thousand elephants!"
They faced off, Bhima's gada swinging like a storm, each strike shaking the earth.
Bahubali wielded Vayuvajra, its storm-infused head clashing with thunderous force.
Bhima charged, his blows aggressive, aiming to crush, but Bahubali countered with agility, parrying and dodging, wearing Bhima down till afternoon.
Bhima's swings grew wild, his breaths heavy, while Bahubali remained calm, his mace blocking each assault.
The Pandavas cheered, Yudhishthira saying, "Bhima's strength will prevail!" Arjuna added, "Crush him, Bhima!"
As the sun dipped, Bahubali maneuvered, his mace hooking Bhima's gada, twisting it free in a deft spin.
Bhima roared, discarding it. "Arms it is, then!" They grappled, Bhima's raw power like a mountain, but Bahubali's technique—honed by Mahadeva's teaching—prevailed. He dodged Bhima's lunges, countering with precise holds, tiring the giant.
Bhima's grabs were ferocious, but Bahubali slipped free, landing blows that staggered him. The crowd gasped as Bahubali locked Bhima's arms, twisting him to the ground in a submission hold.
Bhima struggled, veins bulging, but yielded, panting. "You… win, Bahubali."
Bahubali released him, offering a hand. "You fought with honor, Bhimasen. Your strength is legend."
Bhima rose, his face red but respectful, the Pandavas stunned. Yudhishthira approached, his voice grave. "You've bested us, Bahubali. We accept defeat and withdraw our claim on Magadha. The Rajasuya will proceed without your kingdom. Pranipat."
Bahubali bowed. "May your yagna succeed in uniting Aryavrat under dharma. Magadha remains your ally, should you seek peace."
The Pandavas, humbled, turned their army back toward Indraprastha, the duel's echoes a reminder of Bahubali's unyielding might and dharma's true path.