As the demon with a blazing, fearsome face confronted them, Rama, radiant and resplendent, scion of the Ikshvaku line, responded to his questioning with calm dignity. Viradha, the demon, then addressed Rama—whose valor was unmistakable—saying, “Very well, O king, listen as I tell you who I am, O Rāghava. I am known as the son of Java, and my mother is Śatahradā. All the demons of the earth call me Viradha. Through severe asceticism, I have gained boons by the grace of Brahma: in this world, I cannot be slain by weapons, nor can I be cut or pierced. Now, abandon this woman and flee as you came, both of you, without delay—or I will take your lives.” Hearing these words, Rama’s eyes flamed with anger as he replied to the deformed, evil-minded Viradha, “Wretch, shame on you! Base and deprived, you surely seek death. Stand your ground in battle, for you will not escape alive from me.” With those words, Rama strung his bow and, swift as thought, aimed sharp arrows at the demon. He released seven golden-feathered arrows, swift as the wind of Garuda. These arrows pierced Viradha’s body—clad in peacock feathers—falling to the earth, blood-stained and blazing like fire. Wounded, Viradha set Vaidehī (Sita) down, seized his spear in fury, and charged at Rama and Lakshmana with ferocity. Roaring loudly, brandishing his spear like Indra’s own banner, he shone terribly, his mouth agape like Death itself. The two brothers then unleashed a blazing rain of arrows upon Viradha, who resembled Death at the end of time. But the fierce demon only laughed, stood firm, and yawned; as he did, the swift arrows fell harmlessly from his body. By the boon he had received, Viradha suppressed his life-breath from the touch of the arrows, then raised his spear and charged at the Raghavas. Rama, foremost among wielders of weapons, cut down the blazing spear—like a thunderbolt in the sky—with two swift arrows. The severed spear crashed to the ground like a shattered peak from Mount Meru. Quickly, the two brothers drew their swords, flashing like black serpents, and rushed at Viradha with force to strike him down. But though struck severely, the terrible demon seized both Rama and Lakshmana with his mighty arms and attempted to carry them away. Perceiving his intent, Rama said to Lakshmana, “Let this demon carry us along his path for now. Let him carry us as he wishes, O Saumitri, for this is indeed our path—wherever this night-wanderer goes.” With pride in his strength, the night-stalker Viradha lifted Rama and Lakshmana as if they were mere children perched on his shoulders. Roaring terribly, he strode straight into the depths of the forest, vast as a great dark cloud, filled with towering trees, adorned with flocks of birds, teeming with auspicious creatures, and scattered with wild beasts and serpents. Now begins the fourth sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇyakāṇḍa. Sita, seeing the mighty-armed sons of Kakutstha being carried off, cried out in anguish, clinging to them. “This is Rama, son of Dasharatha, truthful, virtuous, and pure, being carried away by a demon of terrible form, along with Lakshmana! Tigers and leopards will devour me—release me, O best of Rakshasas! O Kakutsthas, I bow to you!” Then Saumitri (Lakshmana) broke the demon’s left arm, and Rama, with great force, broke his right. With both arms shattered, the cloud-like demon, shaken and unconscious, fell swiftly to the ground like a mountain struck by a thunderbolt. Rama and Lakshmana struck him with fists, arms, and feet, repeatedly raising and dashing him down upon the earth. Yet, though pierced by many arrows, wounded by swords, and crushed in many ways, the demon did not die. Seeing him invulnerable and unshakable as a mountain, Rama, who brings fearlessness in danger, spoke: “By ascetic power, O tiger among men, this demon cannot be conquered in battle by weapons. Let us bury the demon.” “O Lakshmana, dig a great pit in this forest for this fierce and mighty demon, whose form is like a terrible elephant.” Having thus instructed Lakshmana, Rama restrained Viradha, pressing his neck with his foot. Hearing these respectful words, the demon Viradha addressed Rama, the best of men: “I am slain, O tiger among men, by you whose strength equals Indra’s; but before, out of delusion, I did not recognize you, O best of men. O Rama, son of Kausalya, truly virtuous, I now know you, and also the noble Vaidehi and the illustrious Lakshmana. By a curse I entered this dreadful demonic form; I am Tumburu, a Gandharva, cursed by Vaishravana.” Thus, the truth of Viradha’s nature was revealed, and the episode unfolded in the great forest, witnessed by the noble trio of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana.