Each day, Sagara brought darbha grass, flowers, and other offerings with devotion, approaching his elders and the sacred fire. With his palms joined in humility, he spoke, his heart heavy with longing: “Tell me all of this, for I am eager to hear. Those who are deprived of their father in this world, though living, are like the dead. One who has neither mother nor father knows no happiness. The birth of a sonless man is in vain, as is that of one burdened by debt. Just as a woman without a husband, so is a child without a father. Just as a merchant without cattle, so is a child deprived of his father. Just as austerity is without compassion, so is a child without his father. Just as a horse is without a bridle, so is a child without his father. Thus, a son bereft of his father is afflicted with much sorrow.” When Sagara was questioned, he recounted everything exactly as it had happened. Resolute, he made a vow to destroy his enemies. Sent forth with purpose, he journeyed alongside that very sage, approaching Vasiṣṭha, his revered family preceptor, filled with affection and respect. He presented everything to Vasiṣṭha, who, endowed with the vision of knowledge, understood it all. By the sage’s grace, Sagara received a sword, hard as a thunderbolt, and a powerful bow. Blessed and honored, he bowed to his teacher and set out at once. With great might, he sent his enemies, along with their sons, grandsons, and followers, to heaven. Some were destroyed and terrified; others fled in fear. Some, desperate, ate grass; others entered the city of the people to hide. Eager to save their lives, many quickly sought refuge with Vasiṣṭha. Through his spies, Sagara soon learned of this and went straight to his preceptor. In a moment, Vasiṣṭha forbade both the act of protection and the words spoken by his disciples. Among those seeking refuge were the blind, the bearded, the shaven-headed, and those excluded from the Vedas. Sagara laughed and addressed his teacher, the great repository of austerity: “In every way, I will kill those who have usurped my father’s domain. He alone is the cause of total destruction—of this there is no doubt. If those same ones, being weak, display extreme virtue, it is only because their strength has not yet been overpowered. One seeking what is best should never trust the goodness of serpents. They quickly reveal their true nature when their own power is reversed. The weak always speak exceedingly pitiful words. One should never trust the virtue or impartiality of the wicked. A man who trusts an evil wife is as good as dead—there is no doubt. Having slain all these wicked ones, by your grace I shall enjoy the earth.” Vasiṣṭha, touching Sagara’s body with both hands, spoke gently: “Even so, by hearing my words, you will attain supreme peace. Tell me, what fame arises from killing those who are already defeated? Why do you kill them again, though they have already been destroyed by their own sins?