The river Vipāśā, so named by the words of the truthful sage, became renowned among people, O Bhārata. After crossing its waters, the blessed sage Vasiṣṭha, still burdened by sorrow, continued on his way, O king. Grief weighed heavily upon him, and he wandered restlessly, unable to settle in one place, traversing mountains, rivers, and lakes in his anguish. Once more, the sage came upon a Himalayan river, wild and dangerous, teeming with fierce crocodiles. In his despair, he cast himself into its swift current. Yet the excellent river, recognizing the Brahmin as fire itself, split into a hundred streams and fled from him. Because of this, it came to be known as the Śatadru. Finding himself once again on dry land, Vasiṣṭha realized that death would not come to him there. Resigned, he returned to his hermitage. He journeyed through many mountains and distant regions, always accompanied by his devoted wife, Adṛśyantī, who faithfully followed wherever he went. One day, as they gathered together, Vasiṣṭha heard behind him the sound of Vedic recitation—clear, complete in meaning, and adorned with all six limbs of Vedic knowledge. Surprised, he asked, “Who is this following me?” To this, his daughter-in-law Adṛśyantī replied, “O blessed one, your wife, endowed with great austerity and fit for an ascetic’s life, is here. I too, though alone, will go with you—there is no other way for me.” Vasiṣṭha then inquired, “Daughter, whose is this sound of Vedic recitation, so perfect and full of its branches? Long ago, I heard such a sound—it was Śakti’s.” Adṛśyantī answered, “This child, conceived in my womb, is the son of Śakti, your son. For twelve years now, he has been practicing the Vedas here, O sage.” Hearing these words, the illustrious Vasiṣṭha was filled with joy. “There is progeny,” he exclaimed, and hope returned to him, turning him away from thoughts of death, O Pārtha. With renewed spirit, Vasiṣṭha and his wife made their way back. In the depths of the forest, they encountered Kalmāṣapāda, who sat alone. But as the king caught sight of Vasiṣṭha, he rose in anger, possessed by a fierce demon, intent on devouring the sage. Seeing the king’s cruel approach, Adṛśyantī, trembling with fear and rendered invisible, spoke to Vasiṣṭha: “O blessed one, this dreadful demon, like Death himself wielding a terrible staff, comes at us brandishing a piece of wood. Only you, best knower of the Vedas, can restrain him. Protect me from this sinful, terrible being—he surely intends to devour us.” Vasiṣṭha reassured her: “Do not fear, daughter. You need not be afraid—this is not a demon from whom you see danger. This is King Kalmāṣapāda, famed for his might, who dwells in this terrifying part of the forest.” As the king rushed forward, the illustrious Vasiṣṭha checked him with a mere utterance of “hum.” Then, sprinkling him with water purified by mantra, Vasiṣṭha released Kalmāṣapāda from the curse through his yogic power. For twelve long years, the king had been seized by the demon’s power, held fast as the sun is eclipsed by a planet. Freed at last, the king’s radiance illumined the great forest, like the sun coloring the evening clouds. Regaining his senses, Kalmāṣapāda respectfully greeted Vasiṣṭha with joined palms and, at the proper moment, addressed the sage: “O illustrious one, I am Saudāsa, whom you have caused to be sacrificed. If you wish anything of me now, speak—what shall I do for you?” Vasiṣṭha replied, “Conduct yourself according to proper custom and rule your kingdom well. But, O king, never look down upon a Brahmin.” The king promised, “O most fortunate one, I will never disregard the foremost of Brahmins. I will remain under your guidance and duly honor the twice-born.” Then Kalmāṣapāda, eager to fulfill his duty, said, “O best knower of the Vedas, grant me that by which I may be free of debt to the Ikṣvāku lineage.” Vasiṣṭha instructed him, “For the sake of offspring, you should approach the queen, who is endowed with good conduct, beauty, and virtue, so that the Ikṣvāku line may continue.” Vasiṣṭha, steadfast in truth and supreme among archers, agreed, saying, “I will give.” At the proper time, Vasiṣṭha accompanied the king to the renowned city of Ayodhya. The people, filled with delight, came forth to greet him, pure and great-souled, as the gods welcome their lord. After a long absence, the king entered that auspicious city, accompanied by the great sage. The people of Ayodhya beheld their king and his priest as if the sun itself had risen. Kalmāṣapāda filled Ayodhya with splendor, like the autumn moon brightening the sky. The city, with its clean, well-trodden roads adorned with banners and flags, delighted his heart. Filled with contented and prosperous people, Ayodhya shone at that time, O joy of the Kurus, just as Amaravati shines by Indra’s presence. When the royal sage had entered the city, the queen, at the king’s command, approached Vasiṣṭha. In due season, the great sage, best among seers, united with the queen according to divine ordinance, thus ensuring the continuation of the noble Ikṣvāku line.