Hanumān, having seized the mountain peak, soared into the sky with a mighty leap, his form dark and immense like a rain-laden thundercloud. With tremendous speed he crossed the heavens, returning to the battlefield and setting the mountain peak gently upon the earth. After a brief moment to catch his breath, Hanumān approached Suṣeṇa and spoke with humility, “O best of monkeys, I could not distinguish the life-restoring herbs, so I have brought the entire peak of the mountain instead.” As Hanumān explained, Suṣeṇa, the wise and radiant monkey chief, praised the son of the wind for his unparalleled feat. He then searched the mountain peak, expertly uprooted the needed herbs, and took them in his hands. All the foremost monkeys gathered around, their hearts filled with awe, marveling at Hanumān’s astonishing deed—a task so difficult that even the gods themselves would have faltered. Without delay, Suṣeṇa crushed the sacred herbs and placed them near Lakṣmaṇa, who still lay pierced by arrows. As Lakṣmaṇa inhaled their fragrance, his wounds and pain vanished, and he swiftly rose from the ground, restored to full strength. The monkeys erupted in joyful exclamations, praising Lakṣmaṇa with shouts of “Well done! Well done!” Their delight was boundless at the sight of the prince’s recovery. Rāma, the destroyer of enemies, called out to his brother, “Come, come!” and embraced Lakṣmaṇa tightly, tears welling in his eyes. Holding Saumitri close, Rāma said with deep emotion, “By great fortune, O hero, I see you returned from the very jaws of death. Without you, neither life, nor Sītā, nor victory holds any meaning for me. What purpose would life serve if you were gone?” As the great-souled Rāghava spoke these words, his voice trembled with grief. Lakṣmaṇa, ever steadfast, gently addressed his brother: “O hero of unfailing valor, you who have made a vow must not speak so, like one whose heart is weak. Those who speak the truth do not make empty promises, for the mark of greatness is to keep one’s word. Do not let despair touch you for my sake. Fulfill your vow today by slaying Rāvaṇa. The enemy who has come within range of your arrows cannot escape alive, just as a great elephant cannot escape a roaring lion with sharp fangs. I desire the swift destruction of this evil-minded one before the sun sets today. If you wish for Rāvaṇa’s death in battle, if you wish to fulfill your vow, if you desire the return of the king’s daughter, then act quickly, O noble one, and do as I say.” Hearing these stirring words from Lakṣmaṇa, Rāghava, the destroyer of enemy heroes, was filled with renewed might. He seized his bow and, full of power, unleashed terrible arrows upon Rāvaṇa in the midst of the army. Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas, mounted another chariot and charged at Rāma like Rāhu assailing the sun. Standing tall on his chariot, the ten-headed king struck Rāma with arrows as fierce as thunderbolts, like a storm cloud hurling torrents upon a great mountain. Rāma, unwavering in his purpose, showered Rāvaṇa with arrows blazing like fire, adorned with gold. The gods, gandharvas, and kinnaras watched from above, remarking that the battle was unequal—Rāma stood on the ground, while the rākṣasa fought from his chariot. Hearing their words, the illustrious lord of the gods summoned Mātali, his divine charioteer, and commanded, “Go swiftly with my chariot to Rāghava, who stands upon the earth. Descend to the world and accomplish this great task for the sake of the gods.” Mātali bowed his head in obedience to Indra and replied, “I shall go quickly, O Indra, and take up the reins.” With that, he harnessed the magnificent chariot, yoked to green horses with golden headpieces and flowing white manes. The chariot shone like the young sun, adorned with gold, intricate designs, and hundreds of tinkling bells, its pole of pure beryl gleaming. Its banner and flute were of gold, and the radiant horses were covered in golden nets. Obeying Indra’s command, Mātali mounted the splendid chariot and descended from heaven to the battlefield, approaching Rāma. Standing on the chariot, goad in hand, Mātali addressed Rāma with joined palms: “O Kakutstha, this chariot is given to you for victory by the thousand-eyed Indra, mighty and illustrious destroyer of enemies. Here is Indra’s great bow, armor blazing like fire, arrows shining like the sun, and an auspicious, flawless spear. Ascend this chariot, O hero, and with me as your charioteer, slay the demon Rāvaṇa, just as Mahendra destroyed the Dānavas.” Rāma respectfully circled the chariot, offered his salutations, and then mounted it. His radiance shone across the worlds. The duel that followed between Rāma, mighty-armed, and Rāvaṇa, the demon king, was wondrous and thrilling—a chariot-battle that inspired awe in all who beheld it. Rāghava, master of celestial weapons, countered the Gandharva missile with a Gandharva missile and the divine weapon with a divine weapon, striking down the demon king’s missiles one after another. But the lord of the demons, enraged, unleashed once more his supreme and terrible demonic weapon. The arrows released from Rāvaṇa’s bow, adorned with gold, sped toward Kakutstha, transforming as they flew into great, venomous serpents, hissing and deadly. The battle between Rāma and Rāvaṇa reached a new and terrible intensity, witnessed by gods and all beings alike.