As the battle raged, a moment of great consequence arose. Yama, the lord of death, stood ready with his upraised staff, prepared to strike down Ravana, the ten-headed lord of Lanka. Yet a dilemma troubled Yama’s heart: if his staff fell and Ravana did not perish, or if Ravana were to die despite the boon that protected him, Yama’s word would be made false. This would compromise the truth he had always upheld. Therefore, Yama addressed himself, urging that the staff be withdrawn from Ravana, for the sake of upholding truth and for the welfare of the worlds. “Withdraw this staff,” he resolved, “for if you care for the worlds, uphold my word today.” At that very moment, the righteous Yama responded to this inner call. “I withdraw the staff,” he declared, “for you, O Lord, are supreme over us all.” Yet, having come to the battlefield, Yama pondered what was left for him to do. Bound by the boon that protected Ravana, Yama realized he could not slay the Rakshasa. “Nothing remains for me here,” he concluded, “for I cannot act against the boon.” With that, Yama vanished from Ravana’s sight, disappearing instantly along with his chariot and horses. Ravana, emboldened by this victory, proclaimed his name in triumph. He mounted the celestial Pushpaka chariot and departed from Yama’s abode, exultant in his conquest. Meanwhile, Vaivasvata Yama, together with the gods led by Brahma and the great sage Narada, returned joyfully to the heavens. Having thus defeated Yama, the foremost among the gods, Ravana looked upon his companions, his pride in battle swelling within him. The Rakshasas, seeing their lord battered and bloodied by the fight but victorious, approached him with affection and admiration. Maricha and the others congratulated Ravana on his victory, and, comforted by his presence, they all boarded the Pushpaka chariot. Their journey next descended into the netherworld. There, Ravana entered the vast ocean, home to hosts of Daityas and serpents, and guarded by the mighty Varuna. He traveled to the jeweled city of Bhogavati, ruled by Vasuki, the king of serpents. Having subdued the serpents, Ravana joyfully made his way to this radiant city. Within Bhogavati dwelled the Nivatakavaca Daityas, powerful beings who had obtained mighty boons. They summoned the Rakshasas to battle, eager to test their strength. Both sides—Daityas and Rakshasas—were fierce and valiant, armed with spears, tridents, thunderbolts, pikes, swords, and axes. Inflamed by the prospect of war, they clashed in a furious battle. For a full year, the conflict raged without victory or destruction for either side. Then, the Grandfather of the worlds, Brahma himself, arrived swiftly on a splendid aerial chariot. The aged creator restrained the battle and spoke words of deep meaning: “Neither the gods nor the asuras can defeat Ravana in battle, nor can you, Nivatakavacas, be destroyed, even by the combined might of devas and danavas. It is fitting, therefore, that you form a friendship with the Rakshasa. Friends are inseparable in all matters—of this, there is no doubt.” Heeding Brahma’s counsel, Ravana and the Nivatakavacas made a pact of friendship, with fire as their sacred witness. Ravana was pleased by this alliance. He dwelled with them for a year as was proper, earning their affection and loyalty. Afterward, having mastered a hundred kinds of illusion, Ravana wandered through the netherworld in search of the cities belonging to the lord of waters. He came to the city of stone, inhabited by the fierce Kalakeyas, and there he slew these mighty beings. He also struck down with his sword the husband of Surpanakha and his powerful brother-in-law, Vidyujjihva, who, in the heat of battle, was licking a Rakshasa with his tongue. Ravana conquered them in a moment, slaying four hundred Daityas. Continuing his conquests, Ravana beheld the divine abode of Varuna, the lord of waters. It shone like Mount Kailasa and resembled a pale cloud in its splendor. There, he saw the celestial cow Surabhi, standing and pouring forth milk in abundance. From her endless flow, the ocean of milk, Kshiroda, had arisen. Ravana also beheld the supreme wish-fulfilling cow, the best among bulls and the wondrous churner, from whom the moon, the cool-rayed lord of night, was born. Upon her, the foam-born sages and great seers depended for sustenance. There, too, arose the nectar of immortality and the sacred oblation for those worthy of it. In the world of men, she is known as Surabhi. Ravana, marveling at her, circumambulated the divine cow and continued on his way. He entered the exceedingly dreadful abode guarded by many kinds of forces. Amidst hundreds of streams and resembling an autumn cloud, he beheld the splendid, ever-joyful mansion of Varuna. There, having slain the commanders of the defending forces—even as he was struck by them—Ravana addressed the remaining warriors: “Quickly inform your king. Ravana has come seeking battle. Let him be granted combat. Or, if you have no courage, declare with joined palms, ‘I am defeated.’” At this, the sons and grandsons of the great-souled Varuna, along with the cows and the lotus-born, came forth in anger. Endowed with valor and surrounded by their forces, they yoked their wish-moving chariots, radiant with blazing splendor. A fierce and hair-raising battle ensued between the sons of the lord of waters and the wise Ravana. With the mighty ministers of the ten-headed Rakshasa at his side, Ravana destroyed the entire force of Varuna in a moment. Seeing their army struck down, the sons of Varuna, overwhelmed by a shower of arrows, withdrew from the fight. Those who had fallen, seeing Ravana in the Pushpaka chariot, swiftly entered the sky in their fast-moving vehicles, leaving Ravana victorious in his quest.