As Rama and Lakshmana journeyed with the sage Vishvamitra, Rama’s eyes fell upon a remarkable sight. He pointed to a cluster of trees near the mountain, dark as rain-laden clouds and shining with an inner radiance. His heart stirred with curiosity. “What is that grove?” he asked. “It is truly beautiful, teeming with deer and filled with charm. Birds of many kinds flit among its branches, their delightful calls blending with the rustle of leaves. We have just emerged, O foremost of sages, from the dense forest that thrilled us. I can sense the pleasantness of this region.” Turning to Vishvamitra with reverence, Rama continued, “Tell me, revered one, whose hermitage is this? Is it not here that wicked, sinful slayers of Brahmins came upon you? To obstruct your sacrifice, those evil-minded ones arrived. What is this sacred place where your rites are performed?” Vishvamitra, radiant with knowledge and virtue, prepared to answer. “Listen, O Rama of mighty arms,” he began. “Here, the revered Vishnu, honored by the gods, spent many years—hundreds of ages. In this very place, the great sage Kashyapa, radiant as fire, together with Aditi, shone with ascetic energy. Accompanied by his devoted wife, Kashyapa completed a divine vow for a thousand years, worshipping Madhusudana, the bestower of boons. “By the power of his austerity, Kashyapa beheld the Supreme Person, the very embodiment of penance. ‘In your body, O Lord,’ he said, ‘I see this entire world. You are without beginning and beyond all description. I have taken refuge in you.’ “Pleased, Hari spoke to Kashyapa, now freed from all sin: ‘Choose a boon, O blessed one. Good fortune to you! You are worthy and dear to me.’ At this, Kashyapa replied, ‘Aditi, the gods, and I together request this: O bestower of boons, supremely pleased, let this sage, sinless and steadfast, become my son, and also the son of Aditi. Become the younger brother of Indra, O slayer of asuras, and aid the gods who are afflicted by sorrow.’ “Thus, in this sacred spot, Vishnu himself became the son of Aditi and Kashyapa, assuming a form to help the gods in their distress.” As Vishvamitra’s words settled in their hearts, the two princes, Rama and Lakshmana, approached him with humility. “O venerable one,” they said, “we wish to know: at what time must we protect the sacrifice from the night-roving demons? Tell us, so that we do not miss the moment.” The sages, delighted by the princes’ eagerness, praised them. Vishvamitra replied, “From today, for six nights, you two Raghavas must stand guard. I have undertaken a vow and will observe silence during this period.” Hearing this, the illustrious princes resolved to remain sleepless for six days and nights, vigilantly protecting the hermitage. With unwavering attention, Rama and Lakshmana, skilled archers and mighty warriors, watched over the great sage Vishvamitra, destroyer of foes. When the sixth day had passed and the critical hour arrived, Rama spoke quietly to Lakshmana, “Be alert and attentive.” Even as he spoke, the altar blazed forth with sacred fire. Teachers and priests gathered, the altar adorned with darbha grass, ladles, vessels, and heaps of sacrificial flowers. The sacrifice proceeded according to sacred rites and mantras. Suddenly, a great and terrifying sound arose in the sky. Clouds gathered, darkening the heavens as in the rainy season. Through their magical power, two fierce rākṣasas—Mārīca and Subāhu—rushed forward, accompanied by their followers, as thunderclouds roll across the sky. They poured down torrents of blood upon the altar. Seeing the altar drenched, Rama sprang into action. He looked up and saw the demons descending from the sky. Turning to Lakshmana, the lotus-eyed prince said, “Look, Lakshmana, at these wicked rākṣasas, eaters of flesh. I will drive them away with the force of the Mānava missile, just as the wind scatters the clouds. I will do it—there is no doubt. Yet I cannot bring myself to kill such as these.” With these words, Rama readied his bow. Then, noble and radiant, Raghava, filled with righteous anger, released the powerful Mānava missile at Mārīca’s chest. Struck by that supreme weapon, Mārīca was hurled a full hundred yojanas into the ocean’s surge. Rama, seeing Mārīca spinning and unconscious, spoke to Lakshmana, “See, Lakshmana, the Mānava arrow, composed by Manu, bewilders him and carries him away, yet does not take his life.” He continued, “These others too I shall slay—the merciless, the wicked-doers, the rākṣasas who destroy sacrifices and feast on blood.” So saying, as if to display his skill, Rama took up the mighty Agneya missile and hurled it at Subāhu’s chest. Struck, Subāhu fell to the ground. Then, the illustrious Raghava seized the Vāyavya weapon and destroyed the rest of the demons, bringing joy and relief to the assembled sages.