Rāvaṇa, the mighty king of the Rākṣasas, spoke urgently to his son Indrajit, urging him onward: “O hero, slay the powerful Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa—whether you are seen or unseen. In every way, your strength surpasses theirs. Your deeds are unmatched; you have conquered even Indra in battle. What more needs to be said? Seeing these mere mortals, will you not destroy them in combat?” Hearing his father’s command, Indrajit, the formidable warrior, accepted Rāvaṇa’s words with resolve. He proceeded to the sacrificial ground and began the sacred rites, offering oblations into the fire as prescribed. As Indrajit performed his rituals, Rākṣasa women, their heads bound with red cloths and their minds agitated, arrived at the site where Rāvaṇa’s son was present. They brought with them an array of ritual items: weapons, arrows with feathered shafts, sacred firewood, bibhītaka fruits, blood-red garments, and a ladle crafted from black iron. Indrajit spread arrows and spears around the sacrificial fire. Then, seizing a living, jet-black goat by the throat, he prepared to complete the offering. As soon as the oblation was cast into the smokeless, blazing fire, auspicious signs appeared, promising victory. The fire itself, its flames curling to the right and shining like molten gold, rose up and accepted his offering. Having satisfied the gods, Dānavas, and Rākṣasas through his oblations, Indrajit ascended his excellent, invisible, and auspicious chariot. This supreme chariot, drawn by four powerful horses and bristling with sharp arrows and a great bow, shone brilliantly. It was radiant and adorned with gold trappings, decorated with images of deer, crescent moons, and half-moons—a truly splendid vehicle. Atop it fluttered Indrajit’s banner, its great golden pole blazing like fire and adorned with cat’s-eye gems, shining resplendently. Protected by the power of the Brahmāstra and radiant as the sun, Indrajit, the mighty son of Rāvaṇa, became invincible. Leaving the city, he performed further fire offerings, chanting the secret mantras of the Rākṣasas, and then, becoming invisible, declared, “Today, after killing those two who falsely dwell in the forest as ascetics, I shall grant my father Rāvaṇa a greater victory in battle. Today, after slaying Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa and ridding the earth of enemies, I will attain the highest delight.” So saying, he vanished from sight. Spurred on by his father’s fury, Indrajit, fierce in battle, rushed forth, his sharp bow and arrows at the ready. He beheld the two mighty heroes, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa—like two three-headed serpents—standing among the foremost of the Vānaras, releasing streams of arrows. Recognizing them, Indrajit strung his bow and, like a rain-laden cloud, poured down a relentless shower of arrows upon them. Riding his aerial chariot, Indrajit remained hidden from view as he struck Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa with sharp arrows. Overwhelmed by the force of his attack, the two brothers readied their own bows and invoked a divine weapon. Together, they filled the sky with volleys of arrows, and though the weapons shone like the sun, they remained untouched by the enemy’s shafts. Indrajit then shrouded the heavens in smoke and darkness, veiling all directions in mist and gloom. No sound of bowstring or chariot wheels could be heard, nor was his form visible. In that thick darkness, as if a wondrous shower of stones were falling, the mighty-armed Indrajit rained down nārāca arrows in torrents. With fury, Indrajit struck Rāma with arrows that gleamed like the sun—boons granted to him—piercing all of Rāma’s limbs. Though battered by these nārāca arrows, like mountains assaulted by streams, the two tiger-like brothers responded by releasing sharp, gold-feathered arrows of their own. The winged arrows, meeting Indrajit’s in the sky, were cut down and fell to earth, stained with blood. Amid this flood of arrows, the sons of Daśaratha blazed forth, cutting down the enemy’s shafts with numerous broad-headed arrows. Wherever they saw arrows falling, they released supreme weapons in response. Indrajit, the great charioteer, drove his chariot in all directions, striking the brothers swiftly and sharply. Pierced deeply by these well-aimed, gold-feathered arrows, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa appeared like blossoming kiṃśuka trees, their bodies marked by wounds. Yet, none could discern Indrajit’s speed, form, bow, or arrows—nothing was known of him, as when the sun is hidden behind thick clouds. Struck by Indrajit’s attack, many monkeys lay slain and lifeless, hundreds falling upon the earth. Enraged, Lakṣmaṇa turned to his brother, declaring, “I will employ the Brahma weapon and destroy all the rākṣasas!” But Rāma, whose auspicious marks shone forth, counseled restraint: “You must not kill all the rākṣasas on earth for the sake of one. One should not slay those who do not fight, who are concealed, who approach with joined palms seeking refuge, who flee, or who are intoxicated. For his death alone will I exert myself, O mighty-armed one; we shall employ swift and deadly weapons, like venomous serpents.” The chiefs of the monkeys, seeing that petty sorcerer of the Rākṣasas, whose chariot was hidden from view, prepared to forcefully destroy him. And Rāma declared, “Even if he enters the earth, the sky, the netherworld, or the realm of space—though he hides himself thus—struck by my weapon, he will fall lifeless upon the ground.