Then, that mighty chariot-warrior, his horses swift and eager, rolled out through the gate where Rama and Lakshmana stood. As he departed, the sun lost its brilliance, darkness veiled the quarters, and the twice-born uttered ominous cries. The earth itself trembled beneath the weight of what was to come. From the sky, blood rained down; the horses stumbled in their stride, a vulture ominously descended upon the crest of the banner, and jackals howled with ill portent. Ravana’s left eye throbbed, his left arm quivered, his face grew pale, and his voice faltered. These dreadful omens, appearing as the ten-headed rakshasa went forth to battle, foretold death in the fight. Suddenly, a blazing meteor thundered down from the heavens, while vultures and crows mingled their cries in a haunting chorus. Yet, heedless of these terrifying signs, Ravana—deluded and driven by fate—marched onward to his doom. The sound of the rakshasa chariots rumbled across the battlefield, and the army of monkeys surged forward to meet them in combat. The clash was tumultuous, as monkeys and rakshasas, enraged and hungry for victory, challenged one another fiercely. Then Ravana, the ten-headed one, his fury unrestrained, began a great slaughter among the monkey ranks with his golden-adorned arrows. Some monkeys fell with their heads severed at the front lines, some with their hearts pierced, some deprived of their ears. Others lay lifeless, their breath stilled; some were torn at the sides, some with their heads split open, and some deprived of their eyes. Wherever Ravana, his eyes wide with rage, advanced in his chariot, the monkey chiefs could not withstand the force of his arrows. Now begins the ninety-sixth sarga of the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda. Thus, the earth became strewn with the bodies of monkeys, wounded by the arrows of the ten-necked one. The monkeys could not endure, even for a moment, the fierce and unstoppable shower of Ravana’s arrows, just as moths cannot withstand the blaze of fire. Struck by those sharp arrows, they cried out and scattered in all directions, like elephants fleeing from a raging forest fire. Ravana, scattering the monkey battalions with his arrows, moved among them like the wind dispersing great clouds. Having swiftly wrought carnage among the forest-dwellers, the lord of the rakshasas pressed on in battle to confront Raghava. Seeing the monkeys broken and routed, Sugriva entrusted the command of his division to Sushena, a hero equal to himself, and quickly resolved to fight. Armed with a mighty tree, Sugriva advanced toward the enemy, with the monkey chiefs following at his sides and behind him, carrying great mountains and various trees. Sugriva roared mightily on the battlefield, striking down many and crushing the foremost rakshasas. The mighty lord of monkeys broke the rakshasa ranks, just as the wind at the end of an age uproots great trees. Upon the rakshasa ranks, he rained down a storm of mountains, like a cloud showering stones upon flocks of birds in the forest. Struck by these mountain showers hurled by the monkey king, the rakshasas fell with shattered heads, like split mountains. As the rakshasas were diminished on all sides, broken by Sugriva and crying out as they fell, Virupaksha, the rakshasa archer, called out his own name, leapt from his chariot, and mounted a great elephant. Roaring with a terrifying sound, Virupaksha charged toward the monkeys atop his mighty mount. He released dreadful arrows at Sugriva amidst the army, causing alarm among the monkeys and delighting the rakshasas. Struck severely by those sharp arrows, the monkey king cried out in great fury, vowing to slay his foe. Seizing a tree, the heroic Sugriva rushed forward and struck the great elephant before him. Hit by Sugriva’s blow, the elephant withdrew a bow’s length, sat down, and let out a thunderous roar. Virupaksha, swiftly dismounting from the battered elephant, advanced toward Sugriva, taking up a bull-hide shield and a sword, ready to threaten his steadfast opponent. Enraged, Sugriva seized a massive stone and hurled it at Virupaksha, resembling a thundercloud in his wrath. But the foremost rakshasa, seeing the stone flying toward him, skillfully dodged and struck it with his sword. The force of the blow sent Sugriva to the ground, where he lay for a moment as if unconscious. Suddenly, Sugriva rose in the midst of battle, clenched his fist, and struck Virupaksha’s chest with tremendous force. The night-wandering rakshasa, enraged by the blow, attacked Sugriva at the front of the army with his sword, determined to prevail.