Clad in the black antelope skin, you have come armed, intending to slay us," Khāṇḍikya accused, his voice sharp with suspicion. "Tell me, fool—among all the animals with backs, does not the black antelope skin rightfully belong to them?" His eyes narrowed, and he declared with finality, "I will kill you; I will not let you go alive." But Janaka, undeterred, spoke up, "Khāṇḍikya, I have come to you with a question." At this, Khāṇḍikya withdrew with his ministers and chief priest to a secluded place to deliberate. The ministers pressed him, saying, "This enemy, now under your power, should be executed." Khāṇḍikya replied with certainty, "There is no doubt about this for me." Yet he pondered further, "If he wins the next world, the whole earth will be mine. For victory in the next world is endless, while victory on earth is brief." Having resolved his thoughts, Khāṇḍikya approached Janaka and spoke frankly to him. He told the sage exactly how the sacrificial cow had been killed, explaining everything properly to Keśidhvaja. Understanding the matter, Keśidhvaja, the great soul, gave his permission. Thus, Khāṇḍikya performed the sacrifice step by step, and, after bathing at its conclusion, he honored all the officiating priests and showed respect to the members of the assembly. Just as I have recounted all these events concerning the world of mortals, so did the king reflect on the proceedings and prepared for his departure. Mounting his chariot, the king set out. But as he proceeded, Khāṇḍikya saw him approaching again, this time with weapon in hand. Janaka called out, "Khāṇḍikya, do not be angry—I have not come to harm you. The sacrifice has been properly completed by me, indeed through your instruction." Hearing this, Khāṇḍikya again took counsel with his ministers. They advised him, "Ask him for the elephant, all of it, without remainder." At this, the great king Khāṇḍikya laughed and said, "This, O ministers, is indeed the means for your own benefit here." Having said this, he approached King Keśidhvaja. When Keśidhvaja replied, "So be it," Khāṇḍikya said, "If you will give me the teacher's fee, why did you not ask for my kingdom, free from obstacles?" Keśidhvaja responded, "Understand why I did not ask for it from you. It is the duty of kṣatriyas to protect their subjects. Where I am powerless, there is no fault of mine if you act wrongly. My desire for sovereignty is for the sake of gaining a share of birth and fortune. Requesting from fellow kṣatriyas is not considered righteous by the virtuous. The learned, whose minds are drawn by attachment, covet kingship. But I, wishing to cross over death by knowledge, indeed act thus." He continued, "Therefore, by fortune, your mind has attained discernment and wonder. That understanding which sees the self in the non-self and regards what is not one's own as one's own—such a mind is rare. The embodied soul, enveloped in the darkness of delusion, dwells in a body composed of the five elements. Space, air, fire, water, and earth each exist separately." Thus, the kings spoke and reflected, their words echoing the deeper truths of duty, knowledge, and the nature of the self.