As Viradha, mortally wounded and subdued, spoke to Rama, he recalled the words once uttered to him in anger by King Vaishravana, who, deeply attached to Rambha, had pronounced a terrible curse: only when Viradha regained his true nature would he be freed to ascend to heaven. Now, released from that dreadful curse by Rama’s grace, Viradha expressed his gratitude. “I shall now return to my own world,” he said, “May blessings be upon you, O scorcher of foes. Not far from here lives the righteous and mighty sage Sharabhanga. At a distance of half a yojana, dear one, dwells this great sage, radiant as the sun. Go to him quickly—he will surely guide you on what is best.” Then, with humility, Viradha requested, “O Rama, place me in a pit and go safely on your way; this is the eternal law for the dead among demons. Those who are laid in a pit attain eternal worlds.” Having thus spoken to Rama of the Kakutstha line, Viradha, afflicted by Rama and Lakshmana’s arrows, prepared to relinquish his body. Rama then instructed Lakshmana, “Let a great pit be dug in this forest for this fierce demon, just as one would for a wild elephant, for his cruel deeds.” With these words, Rama, filled with strength, pressed his foot upon Viradha’s neck, restraining the demon while Lakshmana took up a spade and dug a deep pit beside the mighty Viradha. Together, the brothers lifted Viradha—whose neck was now freed, his ears like conch-shells, and who roared with a dreadful voice—and cast him, bellowing, into the pit. Rama and Lakshmana, steadfast and swift, hurled the terrifying, roaring demon into the pit on the battlefield, rejoicing as they did so. Realizing that Viradha could not be slain by sharp weapons, the two foremost of men, skilled in their actions, resolved to end him by burying him in the pit, just as Viradha himself had revealed: his death would not come by weapons, and he had expressed his wish for such an end. Hearing Viradha’s words, Rama and Lakshmana cast him into the pit, and as the powerful demon was thrown in, the forest echoed with his cries. Joyfully, the brothers covered Viradha with stones, freeing themselves from fear, and rejoiced in the great forest. With their golden-ornamented bows, having slain the demon, they took Maithili—Sita—and moved about joyfully, shining in the forest like the sun and moon in the sky. Having thus slain the mighty Viradha in the forest, Rama embraced Sita and comforted her. Then, Rama of blazing splendor spoke to his brother Lakshmana: “This forest is harsh and difficult, and we are not accustomed to such wild places. Let us quickly approach the sage Sharabhanga, the possessor of ascetic wealth.” So Raghava set out for Sharabhanga’s hermitage. As they neared the sage, whose soul was purified by asceticism and who possessed divine power, Rama beheld a wondrous sight. He saw the lord of the gods himself—radiant, adorned, and clad in spotless garments—hovering above the earth, not touching the ground. The god, worshipped by many great souls, rode in a chariot drawn by green horses, moving through the sky. From a distance, Rama saw him shining like the rising sun, resembling a mass of white clouds, and luminous like the orb of the moon. Rama beheld a spotless parasol adorned with marvelous garlands and two excellent fly-whisks with golden handles, held by noble women and waved above the god’s head. Around him stood many Gandharvas, gods, Siddhas, and eminent sages. The god, situated in the sky, was praised with excellent words and conversed with Sharabhanga, accompanied by Vāsava. Pointing out the wondrous chariot to his brother, Rama said to Lakshmana, “Behold, Lakshmana, that radiant, splendid, and marvelous chariot, shining like the sun, moving in the sky. Those horses of Puruhuta, once heard to belong to Shakra—surely these are the divine horses moving above us. And those tiger-like men standing all around, hundreds upon hundreds, youthful, wearing earrings, and holding swords—all have broad, expansive chests, arms like iron bars, clothed in garments with red rays, fierce as tigers and hard to approach. On their chests are necklaces blazing like fire; they all appear, O Saumitri, as if twenty-five years old. This, indeed, is always the age of the gods, as these tiger-like men are seen, pleasing to behold.” Then Rama said, “Remain here for a moment, Lakshmana, together with Vaidehī, while I go and learn who this radiant one in the chariot is.” Having thus instructed his brother, Rama, the descendant of Kakutstha, proceeded toward Sharabhanga’s hermitage. As Rama approached, the lord of Shachi—Indra himself—having taken leave of Sharabhanga, spoke to the assembled gods: “Rama is coming here, but until he speaks with me, lead me away to completion; then he is worthy to see me. For I have conquered and fulfilled my purpose; soon I will depart. He must perform a great deed, difficult for others.” Thus, Rama, Lakshmana, and Sita found themselves at the threshold of a divine encounter, the forest alive with the echoes of their victory and the promise of guidance from the great sage Sharabhanga.