Unlike many conservative princes raised inside rigid royal traditions, Duryodhana showed little attachment toward caste superiority.
"One's birth does not wield the weapon," Duryodhana once said while staring into the fire. "The hand wielding it does. If a man born low defeats ten trained warriors, then reality itself has already judged his worth. Why should society pretend otherwise?"
Karna listened carefully.
Duryodhana continued, "A weak Kshatriya who hides behind birth alone is like a broken sword decorated with gold. Meanwhile, a capable warrior born elsewhere is like iron hidden beneath mud. Both still cut flesh the same way."
Those words genuinely surprised Karna.
Because they aligned closely with many beliefs inside Magadha and, to an extent, Dakshina Kalinga.
Duryodhana even believed lower caste individuals should be allowed to carry weapons and rise through merit if capable enough.
Strength.
Ability.
Skill.
Those mattered most to him.
And for the first time… Karna began wondering whether Bhishma and Vidura truly understood Duryodhana completely. Or maybe it's because they don't agree with merit over caste belief.
Of course, Duryodhana still carried flaws.
Especially regarding women and traditional patriarchal views.
But compared to the deeply conservative systems dominating most northern kingdoms, atleast his mindset stood unusually forward-looking.
During governance discussions, Karna continued testing him quietly.
"If drought strikes three provinces simultaneously," Karna asked one evening, "and your treasury cannot support all of them equally, how would you decide distribution?"
Duryodhana answered after thinking carefully.
"I would first protect the grain-producing regions," he replied. "Because if the roots survive, the branches recover later. Saving emotional priorities first might satisfy the heart temporarily, but preserving production saves the kingdom itself."
Another day, Karna asked, "What if powerful merchants threaten to leave your kingdom unless taxes are reduced?"
Duryodhana replied instantly, "Then I would ask whether they built their wealth alone or under the protection of the kingdom's roads, soldiers, ports, and laws. A river does not thank the mountain after reaching the sea, but without the mountain, it would never exist."
Karna remained silent after hearing that.
Because the answer…
Was genuinely good.
Again and again during the journey, Karna found himself reevaluating Duryodhana.
The prince was proud.
Possessive.
Emotionally volatile.
Yet he was not incompetent.
Not blind.
Not entirely adharmic either.
In many ways, Duryodhana resembled a sharp weapon constantly trapped between capable hands and dangerous emotions.
And Karna increasingly realized…
If guided correctly, this man could become either a great ruler…
And if left alone, a terrifying disaster.
*
The arrival of Karna's massive procession into Magadha created enough noise and movement that even before the army banners became visible near the outer roads, the people already gathered near the gates in expectation.
The royal drums echoed from the watchtowers while huge iron gates slowly opened inward with a deep grinding sound, and rows of Magadhan soldiers struck their spear shafts against the ground together in welcome.
Dust rose behind the advancing army like a moving storm cloud while thousands of cattle stretched endlessly across the roads, their low calls blending with elephant trumpets, neighing horses, and the rhythmic rattling of chariot wheels.
At the very front, Karna rode calmly in his divine chariot while beside him rode Prince Duryodhana.
Behind them followed Ratnaprabha inside a covered royal carriage, though even through the curtains, curious eyes from the Magadhan citizens continuously followed her presence.
Rumors had already spread ahead of them that Maharaj Karna had returned from Dvarika with a Naga Princess as his fourth queen.
And naturally…
People feared what they did not understand.
When they finally entered the royal palace, the atmosphere changed from military grandeur to heavy royal formality. The palace servants hurried everywhere carrying trays of scented water, garlands, and wine while musicians played low ceremonial tunes from the side halls. The reception itself was respectful and grand because Jarasandha valued Karna highly.
Yet despite the lavish welcome…
There remained an invisible tension inside the palace walls.
Especially when Karna met his mothers-in-law again.
Even after four and a half long years, the grief inside their hearts had not fully faded. Though Karna himself had not killed their son during the conflict surrounding Kamsa's fall, the consequences of those events still remained tied to him in their minds. For mothers carrying loss, logic often loses against pain. Not to mention, it is also an undeniable fact that Karna killed their husband, and Jarasandha decided not to take revenge for their husband and instead gave away his daughter in marriage, turning him into his son-in-law. Naturally, they are not comfortable having Karna in the palace.
So when Karna entered the inner royal chambers alongside his queen, the elder royal women greeted him politely as his mother-in-law…
But their smiles never fully reached their eyes.
One of them looked away the moment Karna greeted her respectfully. Another merely nodded faintly before shifting her attention toward Ratnaprabha instead. The silence itself felt colder than open hostility.
Ratnaprabha immediately sensed it.
The Naga Princess quietly moved closer behind Karna almost instinctively, her fingers lightly holding the edge of his upper cloth while her violet slit-like eyes cautiously observed the unfamiliar human queens around her, feeling resentment in their hearts. The golden cobra ornament resting on her forehead only made the palace women more nervous.
Not because Ratnaprabha did anything threatening.
But because she was unknown.
Different.
And in royal courts, unfamiliar things often frightened people more than open enemies.
Still, no one openly insulted her.
Because Jarasandha himself cared little for such matters.
When one of the older attendants hesitated while serving Ratnaprabha food during the welcoming feast, Jarasandha simply glanced toward her once.
That single glance was enough.
The attendant immediately lowered her head and served the Naga Princess properly without another word.
Karna noticed all of this quietly.
But he did not react.
Neither with anger nor discomfort.
He simply maintained calm silence and avoided unnecessary engagement. He had long understood something about grief. Trying to force understanding upon wounded hearts was like trying to stop rain using bare hands. Time alone decided such matters.
During their stay, Duryodhana meanwhile became deeply fascinated with Magadha itself.
Especially Jarasandha.
The old king's towering frame, frightening physical strength, disciplined military structure, and straightforward warrior mentality naturally attracted Duryodhana's admiration. If anything, if he dethrones Yudhisthira one day and becomes the king, he would like to transform Kuru into another Magadha. And Jarasandha too seemed somewhat amused by the Kuru prince's boldness.
So on the second day itself…
They wrestled.
The massive wrestling arena inside the Magadha palace became filled with soldiers and commanders eager to watch.
Duryodhana entered first bare-chested, his powerful physique glistening beneath the torchlight while his heavy breathing created faint steam in the cold evening air. Across from him, Jarasandha stood like an unmoving mountain.
The difference in their aura alone reminded the spectators of a cub fighting a fully grown lion.
Yet Duryodhana did not retreat.
The moment the signal drum sounded, he charged forward with forceful confidence, attempting to lock Jarasandha's waist and disrupt his balance. Muscles tightened violently beneath his skin while veins bulged across his arms from the sheer pressure he exerted.
But Jarasandha barely moved.
Instead, the Magadhan king laughed deeply.
"Good!" he roared. "At least you do not wrestle like frightened palace princes."
The clash continued intensely.
Stone beneath their feet cracked from forceful stomps while dust continuously rose around them. Duryodhana managed several impressive holds, even briefly forcing Jarasandha a half-step backward once, causing the watching soldiers to shout in surprise.
But experience eventually overwhelmed youthful aggression.
Jarasandha twisted his body sharply, broke Duryodhana's hold, and slammed him heavily onto the arena floor with enough force to shake the surrounding torches.
The impact knocked breath from Duryodhana's lungs.
Still…
He rose again.
Again and again.
And every single time, Jarasandha's respect toward him visibly increased.
After the match finally ended, Jarasandha pulled the exhausted Duryodhana upward himself and laughed loudly.
"You have stubbornness," he declared. "That alone already makes you more worthy than many kings."
Duryodhana grinned despite the bruises covering his body.
Later that evening, while applying medicine to his sore shoulder, he jokingly told Karna, "For a moment, I almost became Maharaj Jarasandha's disciple."
Karna only smiled faintly.
After several days, they departed Magadha and continued southward toward Uttara Kalinga.