Having abandoned reverence for the gods, the sons of Sagara indulged freely in all manner of pleasures. So great was the power of the Kacagraha that even the vast oceans themselves were compelled to serve their will. Given over to drinking wine, these beings took delight in adorning their own bodies, reveling in their excesses. Along with their companions—sinful and mighty—they began to uproot the sacred yodruma trees, their actions growing ever more destructive. Recognizing the threat they posed, the gods gathered and deliberated deeply, seeking a way to bring about the destruction of these reckless beings. Concealing themselves in hidden forms, the gods journeyed to Kapila, the illustrious lord of gods and lords, and bowed before him, prostrating themselves like trees felled to the ground. With great reverence, they praised him, offering salutations to Viṣṇu, concealed in human form—the victorious one, the bridge who upholds dharma at the very edge of the blazing forest of worldly existence. With voices full of supplication, the gods cried, “Save us, O Lord—we who have taken refuge in you—from the tormenting oceans. Those very beings trouble all the worlds; there is no hope for happiness here. Let the gods everywhere know him as one who delights in sinful enjoyments. The divine must swiftly destroy him; there should be no further hesitation.” Having offered their respects, the gods returned to heaven. In the meantime, the sons of Sagara undertook the supreme horse-sacrifice. Kapila, however, intervened and consigned them to the netherworld, where he himself resides. Amazed and bewildered, they searched throughout the worlds, beginning with the earth. Each one, separately and tirelessly, dug up the surface of the earth, yojana by yojana, until at last, through their efforts, they created an opening and all the sons of Sagara entered the netherworld. There, intoxicated and confused, they searched for the sacrificial horse. At last, near Kapila—who was absorbed in deep meditation—they discovered the horse. Their minds agitated and intent on violence, they rushed forward, saying to one another, “Let us quickly seize him and keep it secret.” They were wary, for they knew the world was full of spies and villains who sow discord. Kapila, however, was fully in control of his senses, established in his own true nature, and aware of all their actions. Some of the sons of Sagara struck him with their feet, while others seized the earth itself. Disturbed by their aggression, Kapila spoke to them with profound emotion, addressing those who troubled the world: “Discernment does not arise in those deluded by arrogance. When such as these are consumed, humans burn—what is so astonishing about it? Even river currents topple trees along their banks. In such places, prosperity may increase, but ignorance grows as well. How strange that even the datura plant, sharing only a name with nectar, brings intoxication. Just as wind is a friend to fire and poison to the serpent, so too does harm beget harm. If one sees what is harmful, he surely sees it—there can be no doubt.” In that instant, a terrible fire blazed forth from Kapila, consuming all the oceans and reducing them to ashes. Witnessing this, all who saw it believed the end of the world had come prematurely, and they cried out, overwhelmed by grief. In terror, they plunged into the ocean, for the wrath of the virtuous is truly unbearable. Then the divine messenger spoke: “All that has happened—the Yakṣas know.” And with great delight, he declared, “The wicked have been disciplined by fate.