Having made a solemn vow to avenge his beloved, Ruru, armed with weapons, wandered the earth, relentlessly slaying snakes wherever he encountered them. One day, while moving through a dense forest, he came upon a dreadful, aged Dundubha serpent. Raising his staff in anger and ready to strike, Ruru was stopped as the serpent spoke in human words: “O sage, I have done you no wrong—why do you wish to kill me?” Ruru replied with sorrow, “My beloved, dearer to me than life itself, was bitten by a snake and died. Consumed by grief, I vowed to destroy all serpents, O serpent.” The Dundubha answered, “I have not bitten you. There are other serpents who bite. Because of the nature of my body, you should not harm me.” Hearing these gentle, human-like words from the serpent, Ruru’s curiosity was awakened. He asked, “Who are you, and how did you come to be a Dundubha?” The serpent replied, “I was once a Brahmin, O sage. My friend was Khagama, also a Brahmin—righteous, truthful, and self-controlled. Out of foolishness, I deceived him and transformed him into a snake, terrifying him in the house of the sacred fire. Trembling with fear, he cursed me: ‘Become a snake, you dull-witted one, for you have wronged me.’ I pleaded with him, and when his anger subsided a little, that noble Brahmin said, ‘You will be freed from this curse by Ruru, O serpent.’ “He told me, ‘Surely you are the son of Pramati.’ I am Ruru, a serpent; listen to my supreme words: Nonviolence is the highest duty for Brahmins—there is no doubt. Compassion must be shown everywhere by the wise Brahmin. Except in sacrifice, O best of Brahmins, violence is not proper for a Brahmin.” Sūta continued: Freed from the serpent’s body by this encounter, the Brahmin regained his true form as Ruru. Having ended his vow of violence, Ruru married his beloved, who was restored to life. Uttanka then reflected, “Recalling the slaughter of serpents and the enmity created, even so, you have abandoned enmity and live among the serpents. Without anger towards those who killed his father, O best of Bharatas, his father died in the sky, deprived of ritual bathing and gifts. O king, rescue him by killing the serpents. He does not know his father’s enmity, for he died while still alive. Your father’s misfortune will remain until you kill them. Perform the sacrifice to Ambā, the supreme goddess, O best of kings. Remember your father’s enmity and conduct the serpent sacrifice.” Sūta said: Hearing these words, King Janamejaya was overcome with sorrow. Tears welled in his eyes, and he lamented, “Shame on me, with such poor judgment, who acted in vain. My father met a terrible fate, afflicted by serpents; today I will begin the sacrifice and make amends to my father. Let the serpents perish as the fire blazes.” He summoned his ministers and ordered, “Prepare all the necessary materials for the great serpent sacrifice. Mark out a pure land on the bank of the Ganges with the foremost Brahmins. Build a splendid pavilion with a hundred pillars, in perfect order, and prepare the altar today. Arrange a vast serpent sacrifice; Takṣaka shall be the sacrificial animal, and the great sage Uttanka will be the chief priest. Quickly summon all-knowing Brahmins versed in the Vedas.” The wise ministers followed the king’s commands, gathering all the materials and preparing the grand altar. As the offering began, Takṣaka, the chief among serpents, fled in fear. He rushed to Indra and pleaded, “Save me!” Comforting the terrified Takṣaka, Indra seated him upon his throne and said, “Be fearless, serpent.” Knowing Takṣaka had taken refuge with Indra, the sage granted him assurance of safety. Disturbed, Uttanka summoned Indra, inviting him to the sacrifice. At that moment, Takṣaka remembered the wandering sage descended from the line of Yāyāvara. A sage named Āstīka, righteous and devoted to dharma, the son of Jaratkāru, arrived at the sacrifice. The boy praised King Janamejaya, who, seeing this learned youth, honored him and invited him to ask for any boon he wished. The blessed Āstīka requested, “Let this great sacrifice cease.” Bound by his word, the king was entreated again, and at the sage’s words, he halted the offering of serpents. Then Vaiśampāyana recited the Bhārata in detail. Yet, even after hearing the great epic, Janamejaya did not find peace as he had hoped. He turned to Vyāsa and asked, “How can I find tranquility? My mind burns with intense longing. My unfortunate father was killed by the son of Parikṣit. For kṣatriyas, death in battle is best—whether in combat or at home, according to destiny. My father did not die in battle; he perished helplessly in the sky. O son of Satyavatī, tell me the means for his peace. How might my father, who has fallen into misfortune, quickly attain heaven?” Sūta concluded: Hearing these words, Vyāsa, the son of Satyavatī, addressed the assembled king and his court, preparing to reveal the path to true peace.