Then, in the midst of the great battle, the fearsome night-stalker Mahodara, burning with rage, hurled his blazing mace—radiant like the sun—straight at Sugriva. Sugriva, his eyes reddened with fury, lifted his own massive club and, standing resolute amidst the chaos, struck Mahodara’s dreadful weapon as it came hurtling toward him. With a mighty blow, the lord of the monkeys shattered the mace with his club, and the broken weapon crashed to the earth. Not pausing, the radiant Sugriva seized from the ground a terrible iron pestle, gleaming all over with gold. Raising this formidable weapon high, he hurled it at his foe, even as Mahodara flung another mace. The two weapons collided violently in midair and fell to the ground, both broken by the force of their impact. Now, with their weapons destroyed, Sugriva and Mahodara, equal in strength and energy, closed in upon each other, fists blazing like sacrificial fires. Again and again they struck one another, roaring like lions, and, meeting palm to palm in a thunderous clash, both fell to the ground, shaken by the force of their blows. Undaunted, the two unconquered heroes sprang to their feet and grappled once more, hurling each other with their powerful arms. Exhausted by this fierce arm-combat, they reached for new weapons—swords that lay nearby. Mahodara, swift as the wind, took up his shield and the great sword that had fallen with it; Sugriva, swifter still, seized his own sword and shield. With their bodies ablaze with wrath, roaring, they rushed at each other, swords raised, both delighted in the challenge and skilled in the art of war. Circling each other swiftly, each sought an opening, intent on victory and consumed by anger. Then Mahodara, boasting of his strength and blinded by evil intent, struck his sword upon Sugriva’s great armor. But Sugriva, the mighty monkey-warrior, lifted his own sword and, with a single powerful stroke, seized Mahodara’s blade and cut off his head, still adorned with helmet and earrings. As Mahodara’s severed head fell to the earth, the army of the rakshasa king vanished from sight, overcome with terror at the sight. The delighted Sugriva roared in triumph, and the vanaras joined in his victory cry. Ravana’s anger blazed at the loss, while Rama shone with joy at Sugriva’s valor. The rakshasas, faces downcast and hearts filled with dread, fled in fear, their minds seized by terror. There, where Mahodara lay cast down, like a portion of a great mountain shattered upon the ground, Sugriva—the son of the sun—stood resplendent, shining with unapproachable brilliance, like the sun himself. The victorious monkey king was beheld at the forefront of battle by hosts of gods, siddhas, yakshas, and all manner of beings upon the earth, all rejoicing in his triumph. Now begins the ninety-eighth sarga in the glorious Valmiki Ramayana, Yuddha Kanda. With Mahodara slain, another mighty rakshasa—Mahaparsva—his eyes burning with fury, fixed his gaze upon Sugriva. He unleashed a storm of arrows upon Angada’s formidable army, striking down the foremost of vanaras. Like the wind knocking fruit from branches, he cut off the arms of some vanaras with his arrows, and fiercely attacked others at their sides. The vanaras, tormented by this relentless shower of arrows, became despondent and turned away, their minds lost to fear and pain. Angada, hearing the cries of his wounded and distressed army, was deeply troubled. Summoning his strength, Angada seized an iron club that shone like the rays of the sun. With a roar, he struck Mahaparsva in battle, and the blow was so mighty that Mahaparsva lost consciousness and, together with his charioteer, fell from his chariot to the ground. At that moment, the illustrious king of the bears, Jambavan—dark as a mass of collyrium—leapt forth from his troops, who were clustered like clouds. Angered, he seized a huge rock, like a mountain peak, and with force struck the horses and shattered the chariot. After a moment, Mahaparsva, mighty in strength, regained consciousness. Enraged, he struck Angada with many arrows and wounded Jambavan in the chest with three more. He showered arrows upon the king of the bears and Gavaksha as well. Seeing Gavaksha and Jambavan afflicted and bleeding, Angada’s anger blazed forth. He seized a terrible iron club belonging to the rakshasa, his eyes burning with wrath. Grasping the club with both hands, he whirled it about with great speed, and, shining like the sun’s rays, hurled it at Mahaparsva, intent on ending his life. The mighty club struck Mahaparsva, knocking from his hand his bow, arrows, and helmet. Then Angada, heroic son of Vali, rushed at him and struck him in anger with his palm at the base of the ear, where the earring gleamed. But Mahaparsva, furious and possessed of great energy, seized with one hand a massive battle-axe—well-oiled, spotless, and forged from mountain ore. Exceedingly enraged, he brought it down upon Angada, striking hard on his left shoulder. Yet Angada, undaunted, freed himself from the weapon in anger.