As the fierce battle raged, Atikāya, a mighty son of Rāvaṇa, burned with anger upon hearing the wise and truthful words spoken by Lakṣmaṇa. The memory of how Viṣṇu, as a mere boy, had traversed the three worlds in three great strides flashed through the minds of those present, a reminder of divine power. Now, Atikāya’s fury grew, and he seized an excellent arrow, ready to unleash his wrath. Word of this impending clash drew celestial spectators from all realms: Vidyādharas, Bhūtas, gods, demons, great sages, and mighty spirits all assembled to witness the confrontation. Atikāya, his rage uncontained, fitted an arrow to his bow and let it fly toward Lakṣmaṇa, as if the very sky itself was shrinking from its force. The arrow sped forth, sharp and deadly, like a venomous serpent seeking its prey. But Lakṣmaṇa, destroyer of enemies, met it with a crescent-headed shaft, slicing it through the air. The severed arrow fell, its force spent, like a snake with its hood cut off. Atikāya, seeing his attack thwarted, grew even more enraged and swiftly took up five more arrows. He released these upon Lakṣmaṇa, but the valiant younger brother of Bharata was swift and skillful, cutting down each arrow with his own sharp shafts before any could reach him. Having neutralized the onslaught, Lakṣmaṇa then took up a blazing, keen arrow, his resolve unwavering. With his bow fully drawn, Lakṣmaṇa struck Atikāya, the foremost of the rākṣasas, on the forehead, showcasing his valor. The arrow embedded itself in Atikāya’s brow, its tip drenched in blood, resembling the king of serpents coiled atop a mountain. The mighty rākṣasa trembled under the assault, tormented by Lakṣmaṇa’s arrows, much as the fearsome fortress of Tripura had shaken under Rudra’s shaft. Yet, Atikāya was not so easily vanquished. Regaining his composure, he reflected inwardly, acknowledging Lakṣmaṇa’s prowess: “Well done! By this shower of arrows, my enemy is worthy of praise.” Steadying himself, he controlled his mighty arms, mounted the chariot platform, and maneuvered his chariot with skill. Again, Atikāya, foremost among rākṣasas, took up and released three, then five, then seven arrows in rapid succession. Each arrow, golden-feathered and radiant as the sun, streaked across the sky like harbingers of death, setting the heavens ablaze with their brilliance. Yet Lakṣmaṇa, undisturbed, met this torrent with a storm of his own, cutting down every arrow with his sharp shafts. Witnessing his attacks continually thwarted, Atikāya—Rāvaṇa’s son, the enemy of the gods—was consumed by rage. He seized a sharp arrow, fitted it to his bow, and released it with great force, striking Saumitri—Lakṣmaṇa—in the chest. Blood poured from Lakṣmaṇa’s wound like ichor from a maddened elephant, but the great Saumitri quickly regained his composure. Making himself arrowless, he seized a sharp arrow and invoked a missile weapon. Lakṣmaṇa prepared his arrow with the missile of fire, and the arrow blazed upon his bow, its flames fierce. Atikāya, undaunted, readied a fierce missile of his own, fitting an arrow like a serpent, its shaft golden. Lakṣmaṇa hurled his blazing, dreadful missile-charged arrow at Atikāya, as if Death himself were casting the rod of destruction. Seeing the fiery missile approach, Atikāya responded with a fierce arrow imbued with the power of the sun. The two mighty arrows clashed in the sky, their tips blazing, colliding like two enraged serpents. Their energies spent, they burned each other up and fell to the earth, reduced to ashes, their former brilliance extinguished. Refusing to yield, Atikāya, furious, released Tvaṣṭṛ’s reed missile, but Lakṣmaṇa, strong in valor, countered with the Indra missile, cutting it down. Undeterred, Atikāya fitted an arrow with the Yama missile and hurled it at Lakṣmaṇa, but once again, Lakṣmaṇa struck it down, this time invoking the wind missile. Lakṣmaṇa’s anger grew, and he showered Atikāya with streams of arrows, as a rain-cloud pours torrents of water. But when these arrows struck Atikāya’s diamond-adorned armor, their tips broke and they fell harmlessly to the ground. Seeing his weapons rendered ineffective, Lakṣmaṇa, famed for destroying enemy heroes, unleashed a thousand more arrows, yet the mighty rākṣasa, protected by his invincible armor, stood unshaken. Atikāya retaliated, releasing an arrow shaped like a venomous serpent. It struck Lakṣmaṇa in a vital spot, wounding him. For a brief moment, Lakṣmaṇa lost consciousness, but soon recovered. With four excellent arrows, he struck down Atikāya’s horses and charioteer, and shattered the rākṣasa’s banner with a shower of shafts. Unperturbed, Saumitri aimed his arrows to slay the rākṣasa, but found himself unable to harm him. At that moment, Vāyu, the wind-god, approached and spoke: “This one has a boon from Brahmā and is covered by invincible armor. Pierce him with the Brahmāstra, for only thus is he vulnerable. No other weapon can harm him, so powerful is his protection.” Hearing these divine words, Saumitri—whose valor rivaled Indra’s—took up a swift and powerful arrow, invoking the mighty Brahmāstra upon it, prepared to end the battle with the only weapon that could pierce Atikāya’s invulnerability.