As the great battle raged, the heavens themselves seemed to reflect the turmoil below. Rama, noble and radiant like the full moon, appeared beset by Ravana, who loomed over him like the shadowy Rahu eclipsing the moon, while Rohini—the moon’s beloved star—was overtaken in the celestial drama. Mercury advanced through the night sky, overshadowing the star of Prajapati. Its smoky, ominous glow blazed fiercely, as if warning of harm to all living beings. Soon Mars, burning with anger, rose up as though to touch the sun itself. Its weapon-like rays glared harshly, dimming the very light of the sun, which seemed subdued before its fury. Strange and fearful signs multiplied. The Kabandha constellation appeared, joined with a comet, and the star of the Kosalas, ruled by Indra and Agni, became visible—an ill omen. Mars, its red light fierce, struck and stood near Vishakha in the sky, as if to witness the unfolding drama. Meanwhile, Ravana, the ten-faced, twenty-armed lord of the Rakshasas, took up his mighty bow, his form towering like the mountain Mainaka as he pressed Rama back in battle. Rama, caught in the midst of the fray, struggled to aim his arrows. His brow furrowed in anger, his eyes tinged with red. Wrath flared within him, as if he would burn the demons to ashes. The sight of the wise and enraged Rama filled all beings with terror, and the very earth trembled. Mountains inhabited by lions and tigers shook, their trees swaying violently. The mighty ocean, lord of rivers, was stirred into turbulence. Donkeys brayed harshly in the sky, ominous clouds thundered, and dire portents circled all around, filling the air with dreadful sounds. Witnessing Rama’s fierce anger and the terrifying omens, all beings were gripped by fear. Even Ravana, the mighty Rakshasa king, felt anxiety rise within him. In that moment, the gods assembled in their celestial chariots, Gandharvas and great serpents, sages, Danavas, Daityas, Garuda, and all the dwellers of the sky gathered to behold the battle, poised on the edge of the world’s destruction, as the two mighty heroes clashed with terrifying weapons. All the gods and demons looked on, speaking with devotion and joy as they watched the great war unfold. The assembled Asuras cried out, “Victory to the Ten-Headed One!” while the gods, again and again, proclaimed, “Victory to you, Rama!” Driven by wrath, Ravana—wicked in intent and eager to strike down Raghava—grasped his formidable weapon. This spear, hard as diamond, resounded with a mighty noise. Its terrifying, mountain-peak-like spikes made it dreadful to behold, striking fear into all hearts. Its sharp tip, wreathed in smoke, blazed like the fires that consume the world at the end of an age; it was so fierce and unapproachable that even Time itself would shrink from it. Ravana, blazing with anger, seized the spear as if it were aflame. Consumed with supreme fury, he stood tall in the midst of his heroic Rakshasa army, his massive form rising up, and roared dreadfully across the battlefield. His eyes, bloodshot with rage, inspired his troops with his terrible exultation. The dreadful sound of Ravana’s roar shook the earth, the sky, all directions and the spaces between. At this, all beings trembled in terror, and even the mighty ocean was agitated. Having seized his great spear, Ravana let out a thunderous roar and harshly addressed Rama, declaring, “This spear, hard as diamond, Rama—raised by me in wrath—will at once take the lives of you and your brother’s allies. Having slain you, the boaster in battle, I shall swiftly make myself equal to the heroic Rakshasas who have fallen today at the front. Stand now, Raghava! I will slay you with this spear!” With these words, the Rakshasa lord hurled the spear. Released from Ravana’s hand, it flashed with lightning, adorned with eight bells, emitting a great, fearsome sound as it shone and soared through the sky. Seeing this blazing, dreadful weapon hurtling toward him, Rama, mighty and resolute, drew his bow and loosed a torrent of arrows. Like Indra quenching the world-ending fire with streams of water, Raghava blocked the oncoming spear with his arrows. Yet, Ravana’s great spear burned up Rama’s arrows in flight, consuming them like fire devours moths. When Rama saw his arrows reduced to ashes in the sky, crushed to powder by the power of the spear, fury seized him. At the height of his anger, Rama, delight of the Raghu line, seized the mighty spear brought by Matali and honored by Indra. Lifting it with great force, it rang like a bell and blazed in the sky with its own radiance, resembling a comet at the end of an age. With all his strength, Rama hurled the spear at the king of the Rakshasas, striking Ravana’s trident. The spear shattered the great trident, and it fell to the earth, its brilliance extinguished. Rama then loosed sharp, swift arrows—straight as thunderbolts—piercing the swift horses of Ravana’s chariot. With unwavering focus, he struck Ravana in the chest with keen arrows, and three more hit the Rakshasa king’s forehead. Ravana’s body, pierced by arrows and streaming with blood, stood out amidst his army, shining like a blossoming ashoka tree. Though his limbs were soaked in blood and his body deeply wounded by Rama’s arrows, the lord of the night-wanderers, weary in the midst of his host, was seized by an even fiercer anger. Thus ends this portion of the glorious battle in the Yuddha Kanda of the Valmiki Ramayana, and now begins the one hundred and third sarga.