Wounded in battle, the fearsome demon Viradha, still burning with fury, set Vaidehī—Sita—down from his grasp. Brandishing a massive spear, his rage unbroken, he charged with terrifying force at Rama and Lakshmana. With a roar that echoed through the forest, he waved his weapon high, shining with dreadful might, his mouth gaping wide like Death itself. But the two brothers, Rama and Lakshmana, undaunted by his monstrous form, unleashed a blazing torrent of arrows, their shafts streaking through the air like fire, seeking to subdue the demon who resembled Death at the end of time. Yet Viradha, exceedingly fierce, only laughed. He stood unmoved, yawning as if bored by their efforts, and as he yawned, the arrows that pierced his body simply fell out, powerless against him. Protected by a boon, Viradha suppressed his life-breaths, rendering himself invulnerable to the arrows’ touch. Once more, he raised his spear and charged at the sons of Raghu. But Rama, foremost among warriors, did not falter. With two swift arrows, he cut down the demon’s blazing spear—an awesome weapon, glowing like fire in the sky. Severed, the spear crashed to the earth with a thunderous sound, like the peak of Mount Meru shattered by a bolt of lightning. Seeing their arrows and swords fail, the brothers drew their flashing swords, dark as black serpents, and rushed at Viradha with all their might. Even as they struck him fiercely, the terrible demon seized both Rama and Lakshmana in his massive arms. Though the brothers were unshakable as mountains, Viradha lifted them and began striding away, intent on carrying them off. Understanding the demon’s purpose, Rama calmly spoke to Lakshmana: “Let this demon carry us along his path for now. Wherever this night-wanderer goes, O Saumitri, that is our path as well.” And so, trusting in their own strength and wisdom, the two brothers allowed themselves to be borne away. Viradha, relying on his immense power and pride, hoisted the brothers onto his shoulders as easily as if they were children. Roaring terribly, he plunged into the depths of the forest, carrying the two sons of Dasharatha with him. The forest was vast and dark as a thundercloud, filled with towering trees, flocks of birds, auspicious creatures, wild beasts, and serpents. As they vanished into the gloom, Sita cried out in anguish, her hands reaching for her beloveds. “This is Rama, son of Dasharatha, ever 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!” Within the forest, Rama and Lakshmana acted swiftly. With a surge of strength, Lakshmana broke Viradha’s left arm, while Rama shattered his right. The demon, his arms now useless, fell to the ground like a thunderstruck mountain. The brothers pummeled him with fists, arms, and feet, raising and dashing him down again and again. Yet, though pierced by many arrows, wounded by swords, and crushed upon the earth, Viradha did not die. Seeing the demon’s invulnerability—unshakable as a mountain—the illustrious Rama, who inspires courage in moments of danger, spoke to Lakshmana: “By ascetic power, O tiger among men, this demon cannot be slain by weapons in battle. Let us bury him instead.” “Dig a great pit in this forest, Lakshmana, for this fierce and mighty demon, whose form is as terrible as a wild elephant.” As Lakshmana set to work, Rama stood over Viradha, restraining him by pressing his foot upon the demon’s neck. Hearing Rama’s respectful words, Viradha addressed him, his voice subdued: “I am slain, O tiger among men, by you whose strength equals Indra’s. Before, I did not recognize you, O best of men, blinded by delusion. Now I know you, Rama, son of Kausalya, truly virtuous; and also the noble Vaidehi and the illustrious Lakshmana.” He continued, “I am not truly a demon. I am Tumburu, a Gandharva, cursed by Vaishravana to take this dreadful form. When I pleaded with him, the illustrious king said, ‘When Rama, son of Dasharatha, slays you in battle, you will regain your own nature and ascend to heaven.’ Thus, by your grace, I am now released from this terrible curse.” “Nearby dwells the righteous and mighty sage Sharabhanga, radiant as the sun. At a distance of half a yojana from here, you will find him—go quickly, for he will tell you what is best. O Rama, place me in the pit and go safely; this is the eternal law for the dead among demons. Those who are laid in a pit attain eternal worlds.” Having spoken, Viradha, afflicted by arrows and released from his curse, laid down his monstrous form and ascended to his heavenly abode. Rama, hearing all this, instructed Lakshmana once more: “Dig a great pit in this forest for this fierce demon, as one would for a wild elephant, for his cruel deeds.” And so, while Lakshmana dug, Rama stood firm, restraining Viradha with his foot, until the task was done and the demon’s soul found release.