Driven by hunger and rage, the fearsome yakṣī Tāṭakā charged forward, her roar echoing through the forest. Witnessing her terrifying approach, the venerable sage Agastya turned to Mārīca and commanded, “Assume the form of a rākṣasa!” In his great anger, Agastya also pronounced a dreadful curse upon Tāṭakā herself: “O mighty yakṣī, devourer of men, monstrous and deformed of face, abandon your present form at once—become truly dreadful in appearance!” Transformed by this curse and consumed by wrath, Tāṭakā, now hideous and enraged, began to devastate the region once sanctified by Agastya’s presence. Viśvāmitra, the sage, then spoke to Rāma, “O Rāghava, for the welfare of cows and Brāhmaṇas, you must slay this wicked and terrible yakṣī Tāṭakā, whose evil deeds are immense. No man in the three worlds but you, O delight of the Raghus, can accomplish this, for she is empowered by a curse. O best of men, do not hesitate to slay a woman in this case; for the sake of the four orders, a prince must act. Whether an act is cruel or not, sinful or otherwise, the protector must do what is necessary for the people’s safety. This is the eternal duty of kings: destroy the unrighteous, O descendant of Kakutstha, for there is no righteousness left in her. “In ancient times, O king, it is told that Indra slew Mantharā, daughter of Virocana, who sought to destroy the earth. Likewise, Viṣṇu himself once slew the wife of Kāvya, the devoted spouse of Bhṛgu, when she desired a world without Indra. Many noble princes have slain unrighteous women for the greater good. Therefore, casting aside all hesitation, slay Tāṭakā at my command.” Thus ends the twenty-fifth sarga. Now, listen to the next. Hearing the sage’s firm words, Rāma, the son of the best of men, joined his palms in respect and replied with steady resolve, “Out of obedience to my father’s command, and in deference to the authority of your words, O Kauśika, this task must be performed without hesitation. In Ayodhyā, I was instructed by my father Daśaratha and the greatest of teachers; his words cannot be disregarded. For the welfare of cows and Brāhmaṇas, for the good of the land, and to fulfill your profound word, I am prepared to act.” Having spoken thus, Rāma, subduer of enemies, gripped the center of his bow and drew the string, producing a sharp, resounding twang that echoed through all directions. The creatures dwelling in Tāṭakā’s forest were seized with fear at the sound, and Tāṭakā herself, now greatly enraged, was bewildered by the noise. Fixated on the source of the sound, the furious demoness rushed toward it, her wrath intensifying. Seeing her approach—furious, deformed, monstrous of face, and immense in size—Rāma spoke to Lakṣmaṇa, “Behold, Lakṣmaṇa, the terrifying and dreadful form of this yakṣinī; her very sight would shatter the hearts of the timid. See how formidable she is, difficult to subdue and possessed of the power of illusion. Today, I will render her powerless, depriving her of her ears and nose. I cannot bring myself to kill her, as she is a woman, but I will destroy her strength and ability to move.” As Rāma spoke, Tāṭakā, overcome with rage, raised her arms and charged at him, roaring. But Viśvāmitra, the sage, rebuked her with a shout and uttered blessings of safety and victory for the two sons of Raghu. Tāṭakā then conjured a terrible cloud of dust, bewildering Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, and followed with a magical rain of stones. At this, Rāma’s anger was roused. He countered her assault with a shower of arrows, and as she charged closer, he cut off her hands with his shafts. Now armless, exhausted, and roaring, Tāṭakā stood nearby, and Saumitri (Lakṣmaṇa), in anger, cut off her ears and the tip of her nose. Yet Tāṭakā, skilled in illusion, assumed many forms and vanished, confusing the brothers with her magic. She moved about in a terrifying manner, releasing another shower of stones. Seeing this, the illustrious Viśvāmitra declared, “Enough of your compassion, Rāma! She is wicked and evil-doing. This yakṣinī, who grew powerful through magic, destroys sacrifices—she must be slain before dusk. At twilight, demons become difficult to withstand.” Thus instructed, Rāma faced the yakṣī, who continued her rain of stones. Demonstrating his skill in striking by sound alone, he blocked her with a barrage of arrows. Though she was empowered by magic, she was restrained by his shafts. In a final fury, Tāṭakā rushed at Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa like a blazing thunderbolt. At last, Rāma, with unwavering aim, brought her down. The gods, witnessing this act, rejoiced and honored Kākutstha (Rāma), exclaiming, “Well done! Well done!” Indra, the thousand-eyed lord, spoke with great delight, and all the gods, together with the Maruts, addressed Viśvāmitra: “O sage Kauśika, blessings to you! We are pleased by this deed. Show affection to Rāghava, and reveal to him the sons of Kṛśāśva, the son of Prajāpati, who are true in their valor.” Thus, the dreadful Tāṭakā was slain, and the region was restored to peace by the valor of Rāma, guided by the wisdom of the great sage.