By virtue, generosity, sweetness, good conduct, and self-control, it was said that when Devayānī became pleased, the seeker would surely obtain the coveted knowledge. Thus, Kaca, son of Bṛhaspati, was sent by the gods. Accepting their charge, he set out to the abode of Vṛṣaparvan. Swiftly arriving, honored by the gods, Kaca bowed to Śukra in the city of the lord of the asuras and spoke humbly: “O revered one, I am the grandson of the sage Aṅgiras, the direct son of Bṛhaspati, and known as Kaca. Please accept me as your disciple. Supreme teacher, I wish to practice the highest celibacy under you; grant me permission, O Brahman, for a thousand years.” Śukra warmly welcomed Kaca: “You are most welcome; I accept your words. I shall honor you, the worthy one, and may Bṛhaspati be honored as well.” Kaca replied, “So be it,” and accepted the vow as instructed by Śukra, son of Kavi. Embracing the vow and its prescribed period, Kaca devotedly served his preceptor and Devayānī. He constantly attended Devayānī, a young woman in the bloom of youth, by singing, dancing, and playing music, thus pleasing her. He brought her flowers and fruits, ran errands, and delighted her in countless ways. Devayānī, in turn, was pleased with the self-restrained, vow-observing Brahmin; she sang along and attended to him in private. For five hundred years, Kaca diligently observed his vow. The Dānavas, perceiving his severe austerity, grew alarmed and decided to target him. One day, seeing him guarding the cows in the forest, the Dānavas, enraged and secretly, killed him out of hatred for Bṛhaspati and for their own protection. They ground his remains to bits and fed them to wolves and jackals. The cowherds returned home without the cows. When the cows returned from the forest without Kaca, Devayānī approached Śukra at the proper time. “Your fire-offering has been made, the sun has set, master; the cowherds have returned, but Kaca, father, is not to be seen. Surely, father, Kaca has either been killed or captured; without him, I cannot live—I speak the truth.” Śukra, moved by her distress, declared, “Come, come,” and, applying the knowledge of resurrection, summoned Kaca. At his call, Kaca appeared and bowed to Śukra, saying, “I was killed by the Rākṣasas, O son of Dhiṣaṇa.” Again, at Devayānī’s request to gather flowers, Kaca went to the forest, reciting the eternal Veda. While gathering flowers, the Dānavas saw him and killed him again. This time, they burned him to ashes, ground him to powder, and mixed him into the drink of the Brāhmaṇa for the gods. Devayānī again spoke to her father: “Kaca, who was sent to gather flowers, father, is not to be seen. Surely, father, whether Kaca is slain or dead, he will be so; without him, I cannot live—this is the truth I tell you.” Śukra replied, “O daughter, Kaca, the son of Bṛhaspati, has gone to the realm of the dead; even if revived by knowledge, he is thus slain—what can I do? Do not grieve for him, do not weep, Devayānī; one such as you should not mourn a mortal, for whom Brahma, the Brahmins, Indra, the gods, the Vasus, and the Ashvins all exist. The enemies of the gods, and indeed the whole world, are present because of my ascetic power; this twice-born cannot be revived—one who has been restored to life and then killed again.” But Devayānī’s sorrow was deep. “His great-grandfather is Aṅgiras, the eldest; his father is Bṛhaspati, a treasury of austerity—how could I not grieve or weep for such a sage’s excellent son and grandson? He is a celibate, rich in austerity, ever diligent, and skilled in duties; I shall follow Kaca’s path and will not eat, for dear Kaca, handsome and beloved, is gone.” Śukra, hearing Devayānī’s pain, spoke with anger: “Without doubt, the Asuras hate me, for they slay my disciples who come to me. These fierce Dānavas wish to make me unbrahminical; this act of theirs is in vain. Even by such a deed, there would be an end here—whom would the sin of Brahmin-murder not burn, even Indra?” Then, though unasked, a voice spoke from within Śukra’s belly, summoned by knowledge. Śukra asked, “By whom have you been initiated, and why do you remain in my belly? Speak, my child.” Kaca replied, “By your grace, memory does not leave me; I remember everything, what happened and how. Yet, let not my ascetic merit be diminished in this way—therefore, I recall a greater suffering. By the Asuras, I was given to you in the drink, having been killed, burned, and crushed, O Kavya. The Brahmin's magic is in you, but here the Asuric magic prevails—how can it overpower you while you remain?” Śukra was torn. “What dear thing shall I do for you today, child? Without you, my life would not remain; Kaca would be seen only by splitting open my belly, for he is within me, O Devayānī. Two griefs, like fire, would consume me: the loss of Kaca and your own harm. With Kaca’s loss, I have no peace; with your harm, I am unable to live. You are perfected, O son of Bṛhaspati, since Devayānī, devoted, cherishes you. Attain this knowledge that grants life; otherwise, today you will become Indra in Kaca’s form. No one else, except a Brahmin, can return to life from my belly; therefore, attain the knowledge. Become my son and emerge from my belly, breaking it open; revive me, dear one, and observe proper conduct. Having obtained knowledge from the teacher, be learned.” Thus, having fully obtained the sacred knowledge from his teacher, the Brahmin Kaca broke open Śukra’s belly and came forth, like the moon emerging from the peak of the snowy mountain at nightfall on the full moon. Seeing him fallen, the collection of Vedas was raised up; then Kaca, having attained perfected knowledge, paid homage and spoke to his teacher.