Sacrifice, it was declared, should be performed with offerings of sacrificial animals, grains, and fruits. The great sages explained that the very mantras invoked for the deities, when uttered in these rites, carried an inherent implication of violence. Thus, relying on this venerable authority, the speaker affirmed his position and urged that the prescribed course be followed. “Let the sacrifice proceed in this manner,” he insisted, “for otherwise, your words would be false.” Faced with the inevitability of this reasoning, those present fell silent, offering no further objection. In the aftermath, Vasu—who once moved freely above—was cast down to dwell in the netherworld. This king Vasu, renowned for dispelling doubts about righteousness, experienced a great fall. For indeed, the path of righteousness is subtle, far-reaching, and has many gateways; it is not easily grasped. With the sole exception of Manu, the son of Svāyambhuva, neither gods nor seers have fully attained this elusive Dharma. Yet, thousands upon thousands of seers, by their own austerities, ascended to heaven. These ascetics lived simply, subsisting on gleaned grains, roots, fruits, vegetables, and water as their only wealth. Their lives were marked by non-injury, absence of greed, austerity, compassion for all beings, and self-restraint—qualities that form the difficult-to-attain root of the eternal Dharma. Among the illustrious royal sages—Priyavrata, Uttānapāda, Dhruva, Medhātithi, Vasu, Prājīnabarhi, Parjanya, Havirdhāna, and others—each was famed for great strength and virtue. It was through the austerity of such beings that Brahmā, in former times, created the entire universe. Sacrifice, as taught, consists both of tangible substance and the recitation of mantra, while austerity finds its expression in fasting. True Brahmanical action is the conquest of one’s own nature, achieved through renunciation and detachment. Thus, a great dispute arose concerning the initiation of knowledge. Yet, when the sages saw that their arguments were overcome by the power of Dharma, they withdrew in silence. As the assembly of sages departed, the gods themselves completed the sacrifice. From that moment onward, the nature of sacrifice evolved, changing with each passing age. When the Tretā age wanes, the Dvāpara age begins. As Dvāpara passes, the practices of old fall into decline. There arises a mingling of castes and a reversal of traditional duties. In Dvāpara, actions become mixed with passion and darkness, and confusion spreads. As Dvāpara gives way to Kali, the confusion deepens and the old ways perish. In the Kali age, the Veda and tradition take on dual forms, and the true essence of Dharma becomes obscured, for certainty of attainment is lost. The diversity of opinions and the confusion they breed, along with the variety of causes and the uncertainty of results, lead to the proliferation of countless scriptures, each reflecting divided views. With the decline of lifespan and the loss of spiritual stature, the wisdom of the ages becomes scattered throughout Dvāpara. Differences in the arrangement of mantras and Brāhmaṇas, as well as variations in tones and syllables, further fragment the tradition—some teachings remain the same, others are altered, depending on the school of thought. Some teachers put forth new paths, while others oppose them. Where once there was a single Ādhvaryava tradition, it later split in two. The many procedures of the Ādhvaryava brought about even greater confusion. Thus, in the Dvāpara age, the practice of sacrifice is ever mired in uncertainty, performed by those whose views are in constant contention.