Blinded by desire, the king slew the demon before him and spoke fearlessly to his wife. In response, she revealed her true identity: "O king, listen! I am indeed the daughter of a Vidyādhara." She explained that she had not come at the time of the meal, nor had she visited the house of her father or mother. Then, with a tone of foreboding, she warned, "Today, on the fourteenth day of the dark fortnight, the demon will seize you." Distressed by this fate, she recounted how she had wept to her father. He had comforted her, saying, "O daughter, you will be enjoyed by a hero." She then told the king, "By your command, O king, I will go to my father's house. With you, I will go to the house of the Vidyādhara." In the city, a great festival arose among the people, but suddenly, death befell them all. She implored, "Tell me, for what reason did this happen?" The king, troubled by the fear of losing his kingdom, reflected deeply in his heart. He realized, "For the king who is given to sensual pleasures, the destruction of his kingdom is certain." In the beautiful city of Cūḍāpura, there was a renowned king named Cūḍāmaṇi. His teacher was Devasvami, accomplished in the Vedas and all their branches. The king's radiant queen worshipped Shiva with devotion, desiring a son. In time, a son was born to her—Harisvami—famed, powerful, and possessing a portion of the gods' own qualities. Harisvami’s wife was Rupalavanyika, a celestial maiden, and together, they dwelled in the season of blossoming flowers. During this time, a Gandharva named Sukala became captivated by Rupalavanyika’s beauty. Overcome with longing, Sukala sought after her, but eventually renounced all sensual pleasures and devoted himself to meditation on Hari. One day, having cooked rice pudding, he took shelter beneath a banyan tree. Unbeknownst to him, a snake had poisoned the food. A mendicant arrived, ate the rice pudding, and became intoxicated. The mendicant cried out, "You, foolish one, gave rice pudding mixed with poison!" Having spoken thus, he died—and attained the realm of Shiva. At this point, the Vetala addressed the king, explaining, "Therefore, the snake is at fault, but did not incur the sin of killing a Brahmin. The Brahmin, deluded by fate, gave alms to the hungry. The sin committed by oneself must always be experienced by people. At that time, the killing of a Brahmin should be understood as caused by the one who gave the poison. By those men who narrated the story, the sin of killing a Brahmin has been committed by you." In the city of Candrahṛdaya, there was a king named Raṇadhīra. In that same city lived a virtuous and wealthy merchant named Dharmadhvaja. One day, a man appeared in the city, devoted to eating flesh. There was also a rākṣasa named Vāśara, a devourer of men. The rākṣasa, having become pleased, spoke to the flesh-eater, saying, "Grant me a boon, O devourer of men." Hearing this, the man created a pit that would bewilder the mind. By means of theft at night, a royal maidservant—a beautiful woman—was obtained. This man had seven wives, women from the four castes. The rākṣasa constructed a house like a royal fortress, and thus the tale unfolded with intrigue and dread.