As the sacred sacrifice at Siddhāśrama was underway, a menacing darkness gathered on the horizon. Mārīca and Subāhu, the fierce rākṣasa brothers, arrived with their followers, their presence as ominous as thunderclouds. From the sky, they unleashed a dreadful rain—not water, but torrents of blood—drenching the altar below and threatening to defile the holy ritual. Rāma, seeing the altar awash in blood, acted with swift resolve. He scanned the heavens and spotted the rākṣasas hovering above. As Mārīca and Subāhu swooped downward, the lotus-eyed prince turned to his brother Lakṣmaṇa and spoke gravely: “Look, Lakṣmaṇa, at these wicked rākṣasas, devourers of flesh. They are swept along by the force of the mānava missile, just as clouds are scattered by the wind.” With calm determination, Rāma continued, “I will deal with them, there is no doubt. Yet, I cannot bring myself to kill such as these.” With these words, he readied his bow, his resolve unwavering. Then, radiant and supremely noble, Rāma—descendant of Raghu—was filled with righteous anger. He drew back his bow and released the mighty Mānava missile, aiming it straight at Mārīca’s chest. The weapon struck with unerring force, and Mārīca was hurled a hundred yojanas away, cast deep into the surging ocean. Rāma watched as Mārīca, unconscious and spinning, tormented by the chilling power of the arrow, vanished from sight. Turning to Lakṣmaṇa, he explained, “See, Lakṣmaṇa, the Mānava arrow, composed by Manu himself, bewilders its victim and carries him far away, yet it does not take his life.” He then declared, “As for the others—the merciless, the wicked-doers who destroy sacrifices and feast on blood—I shall slay them.” Having spoken, Rāma, as if to display his skill, took up the mighty Agneya missile. He hurled it at Subāhu’s chest, and the demon fell lifeless to the ground. The illustrious Rāghava then seized the Vāyavya weapon and unleashed its power, scattering and destroying the rākṣasas who remained. The sages, witnessing this, were filled with joy and relief. With the threat vanquished and the sacrifice preserved, the delight of the Raghus was honored by the sages, just as Indra was once honored in his victory over evil. When the sacrifice was complete, the great sage Viśvāmitra, seeing the land cleansed of wickedness, addressed Rāma, saying, “O mighty-armed one, my purpose is fulfilled; you have accomplished your teacher’s command. O illustrious hero, you have truly sanctified this Siddhāśrama.” Thus praising Rāma, Viśvāmitra led the two princes to the evening rites. With the sacrifice complete and the night descending, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, their purpose accomplished, spent the night at Siddhāśrama. Their hearts were light, filled with joy and delight. At dawn, after performing their morning devotions, they approached Viśvāmitra and the assembled sages, greeting the foremost sage with reverence and sweet words. “O tiger among sages,” they said, “here we stand as your attendants. Command us, best of sages—what shall we do?” Hearing this, all the great sages, with Viśvāmitra at their head, addressed Rāma: “O best of men, Janaka, king of Mithilā, is about to perform a most righteous sacrifice. Let us all go there. You too, O tiger among men, should accompany us. There you are worthy to behold the wondrous, precious bow.” They continued, “That bow, O best of men, was once given by the gods themselves—an immeasurably powerful and terrible weapon, shining supremely at the sacrifice. Neither gods, nor gandharvas, nor asuras, nor rākṣasas, nor any human is able to string it. Mighty princes have tried to test its strength, but none have succeeded. This bow belongs to the great-souled king of Mithilā. There, O descendant of Kakutstha, you will see both the bow and the wondrous sacrifice.” The sages explained further, “That supreme bow was requested as the fruit of sacrifice by the king of Mithilā, ever praised by the gods. It is kept in the king’s palace as a sacred object, honored with fragrant incense and aguru wood.” Having spoken, the great sage Viśvāmitra made ready to depart, together with the assembly of seers and the two princes, bidding farewell to the forest dwellers: “Farewell to you all; I shall go, my purpose accomplished, from Siddhāśrama to the northern bank of the Jāhnavī, to the rocky heights of the Himālayas.” With these words, the sage Kauśika, rich in austerity, set out toward the north. A great host of followers, devoted to the Vedas, accompanied him for a distance of a hundred carts. Even the deer and birds, dwellers of Siddhāśrama, followed the great-souled Viśvāmitra for a time. At sunset, the assembly of seers and the birds turned back after a long journey. As night fell, they bathed and performed their fire offerings. Then, led by Viśvāmitra, those of immeasurable energy sat down to rest. Rāma and Saumitri, having duly honored the sages, sat in front of the wise Viśvāmitra. Curious and eager to learn, Rāma addressed the sage: “Revered one, what is this land, adorned with flourishing forests? I wish to hear—please tell me truly.” Thus addressed by Rāma’s gentle words, the virtuous sage Viśvāmitra, amidst the assembly of seers, began to narrate everything about that land, ready to share its ancient and sacred story.