After a tense interval on the battlefield, Rāvaṇa seized a mighty spear, a weapon whose brilliance blazed fiercely and whose power was difficult for anyone to withstand, even as time itself passes. Gripping it with force, the evil-minded Rāvaṇa caused the spear to glow with immense energy, shining like a flaming thunderbolt. At that critical moment, the heroic Lakṣmaṇa noticed that Vibhīṣaṇa, his ally, had fallen into mortal peril. Swiftly, Lakṣmaṇa approached Vibhīṣaṇa and, determined to free him, drew his bow and unleashed a rain of arrows upon Rāvaṇa, who still held the formidable spear. Assailed by this torrent from the great-souled Lakṣmaṇa, Rāvaṇa’s courage faltered, and he could not bring himself to strike. Seeing his brother Vibhīṣaṇa freed by Lakṣmaṇa’s valor, Rāvaṇa turned to face Lakṣmaṇa and, standing before him, spoke: “Because Vibhīṣaṇa, who boasts of his strength, has been freed by you, this spear, having missed the Rākṣasa, will now be directed at you. This spear, marked with blood and hurled by my intoxicated arm, will pierce your heart and carry away your life.” Having spoken these words, Rāvaṇa, exceedingly enraged, took up the great-sounding spear adorned with eight bells—a weapon fashioned by Maya through illusion, unfailing and a destroyer of enemies. With a mighty roar, he aimed the blazing weapon at Lakṣmaṇa and hurled it with terrible speed. The spear, roaring like thunder and lightning, rushed violently toward Lakṣmaṇa, who stood at the center of the battle. As the deadly spear sped toward Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma, witnessing the danger, recited words of protection: “May there be safety for Lakṣmaṇa; become futile, O weapon, your effort is in vain!” Yet, released in battle by the furious Rāvaṇa, the spear, like a venomous serpent, struck the brave but now fearful Lakṣmaṇa. The mighty, blazing spear, resembling the tongues of the serpent king, fell with great force upon Lakṣmaṇa’s broad chest. Deeply struck by Rāvaṇa’s hurled spear, Lakṣmaṇa’s heart was pierced, and he collapsed to the ground. Seeing Lakṣmaṇa lying nearby in such a grievous state, Rāma—possessed of great energy—was overcome with grief, his heart aching with brotherly affection. After a moment’s reflection, his eyes brimming with tears, Rāma’s sorrow transformed into intense rage, like fire at the end of an age. Determined, he thought, “This is not the time for despair,” and resolved to slay Rāvaṇa, engaging fiercely in battle while keeping careful watch over Lakṣmaṇa with utmost effort. Rāma beheld Lakṣmaṇa, struck by the spear amid the great battle, covered in blood and lying like a mountain entwined by a serpent. Even the best of the monkeys, despite their efforts, could not withstand the spear sent by mighty Rāvaṇa. Pierced by a shower of arrows from the fierce Rākṣasas, the spear, having struck Saumitri (Lakṣmaṇa), finally entered the earth. Rāma, grasping the fearsome spear with his own hands, broke it in battle—enraged and powerful—and dragged it away. As Rāma pulled out the spear, Rāvaṇa, mighty in strength, struck him with arrows that pierced all his limbs. Ignoring these wounds, Rāma embraced Lakṣmaṇa and spoke to Hanuman and Sugriva, the great monkeys: “Surround Lakṣmaṇa and stand firm, O foremost monkeys; the time for my long-desired valor has now arrived. This ten-headed wicked soul, resolved in evil, must be slain; as a chataka bird longs for clouds at summer’s end, so do I.” Rāma continued, “Within this moment, I promise you truly: you will see the world either without Rāvaṇa or without Rāma, O monkeys. The loss of my kingdom, dwelling in the forest, wandering in Dandaka, the suffering of Vaidehi, and encounters with Rākṣasas—all the terrible suffering, the torment like hell, that I have endured, today I will abandon it all by slaying Rāvaṇa in battle. For this purpose I gathered the monkey army, for this I made Sugriva king after slaying Vali in battle, for this I crossed the ocean and built a bridge. Now this wicked one has come within my sight in battle; having come within my sight, he does not deserve to live. Rāvaṇa is within the range of my gaze, as a serpent is within the range of another’s venomous sight, or as a snake comes within Garuda’s gaze.” He urged the monkeys, “Watch comfortably, O mighty monkeys, this difficult battle between myself and Rāvaṇa, seated atop the mountain peaks. Today let all three worlds, with Gandharvas, gods, sages, and celestial beings, witness my true nature as Rāma in battle. Today I will perform a deed that all worlds, moving and unmoving, with the gods, will speak of as long as the earth endures, gathering always to recount how this battle was fought.” Having spoken thus, Rāma, intent and resolute, struck the ten-headed Rāvaṇa in battle with sharp arrows adorned with heated gold. In turn, Rāvaṇa showered blazing arrows and maces upon Rāma, as a raincloud pours down streams of water. A tumultuous sound arose from the excellent arrows released by both Rāma and Rāvaṇa, striking each other. The arrows, broken and scattered, with flaming tips, fell from the sky onto the earth. The great twang of their bowstrings became a wondrous, terrifying sound, reverberating through the battlefield and striking fear into all creatures.