With a roar that seemed to shake the very earth, Virādha, the fearsome Rākṣasa, charged toward Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā, his wrath as terrible as Death at the end of time. His dreadful voice echoed through the forest as he seized Vaidehī—gentle Sītā—in his arms and began to withdraw, declaring with cruel triumph, “You two, clad in matted locks and bark, wandering here with your wife—your lives are nearly over.” He glared at them and mocked, “You have entered the Daṇḍaka forest, armed with bow, arrows, and sword. How is it that ascetics like you dwell here with a woman? Who are you, evil-doers, unrighteous and corruptors of sages? I am Virādha, a Rākṣasa who roams this difficult forest. I wander always armed, consuming the flesh of sages. This noble woman shall become my wife, and as for you two sinners, I will drink your blood in battle!” Thus spoke the wicked, evil-minded Virādha. Hearing these arrogant words, Sītā, daughter of Janaka, trembled with fear, shaking like a plantain tree in a storm. Seeing radiant Sītā, now seated in terror on Virādha’s lap, Rāghava’s heart was parched with anguish. He turned to Lakṣmaṇa and said, “Behold, gentle one, the daughter of King Janaka, my wife of virtuous conduct, now placed on Virādha’s lap. Raised in comfort, renowned and beloved—whatever was dear to us, whatever was her wish, all that Kaikeyī has swiftly accomplished today. She, unsatisfied with the kingdom and seeking only her son’s gain, has achieved her purpose. By whom I, beloved of all, was sent to the forest; today, that middle mother of mine has her desire fulfilled. Nothing is more painful to me than Sītā being touched by another, not even my father’s death or the loss of my own kingdom, O Saumitri.” As Rāma spoke, his voice choked with tears and grief. Lakṣmaṇa, enraged, replied like a restrained serpent hissing, “You are the protector of beings, like Indra, though you appear as one without support. O Kakutstha, why do you grieve when I, your servant, am here? Today, struck down by my arrow in anger, the demon Virādha, his life departed, will stain the earth with his blood. The anger I once felt toward Bharata for the sake of the kingdom, I will now unleash upon Virādha, as Indra hurls his thunderbolt at a mountain. Let my great arrow, driven by the force and speed of my arm, fly at his massive chest, sever his life from his body, and let him fall to earth, writhing.” Now begins the third sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇyakaṇḍa. Virādha’s voice thundered through the forest once more: “Tell me, who are you two, and where are you going?” To this blazing-faced demon, Rāma, descendant of Ikṣvāku and radiant in valor, replied as he was questioned. But Virādha interrupted, “Well, I shall tell you, O king; listen to me, O Rāghava. I am said to be the son of Java, my mother is Śatahradā; all the demons on earth call me Virādha. Through asceticism I gained boons, granted by Brahma’s favor: in this world, I cannot be slain by weapons, nor can I be cut or pierced. Abandon this woman and flee as you came, both of you, without delay; otherwise, I will take your lives.” Rāma’s eyes reddened with anger as he replied to the deformed and evil-minded demon, “Wretch, shame on you, so base and deprived! Surely you seek death; stand your ground in battle, for you shall not escape alive from me.” With that, Rāma strung his bow and swiftly aimed sharp arrows at the demon. Seven golden-feathered arrows, swift as Garuḍa’s wind, flew from his bow and pierced Virādha’s body, staining the earth with blood and blazing like fire. Wounded, Virādha set Vaidehī down, raised his mighty spear in fury, and charged fiercely at Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, roaring loudly and brandishing his weapon like Indra’s banner. His mouth gaped wide, resembling Death itself. The two brothers unleashed a blazing rain of arrows upon him, but the exceedingly fierce demon only laughed, stood firm, and yawned. As he yawned, those swift arrows fell harmlessly from his body. By the boon he had received, Virādha’s life-breaths were protected from the touch of weapons. He raised his spear and charged at the Rāghavas once more. But Rāma, foremost among wielders of weapons, cut down the blazing, thunderbolt-like spear with two arrows. The severed spear crashed to the ground like a thunderbolt-shattered peak from Mount Meru. Undaunted, the two brothers quickly raised their swords, flashing like black serpents, and rushed at Virādha with force to strike. Though they struck him severely, the terrible demon seized the two tiger-like men in his arms—unshakable as they were—and tried to carry them away. Perceiving his intention, Rāma said to Lakṣmaṇa, “Let this demon carry us along his path for now.