Just as he had once subdued Bala and Virocana to rule over the three worlds, Indra now yearned to restrain this new, wicked adversary. With this resolve, Indra turned away from Rāvaṇa and moved to another front, waging battle elsewhere and striking terror into the hearts of the Rākṣasas. Rāvaṇa, however, entered the battlefield from the north, never turning back, while Śatakratu—another name for Indra—approached from the south. Advancing a hundred yojanas, the mighty lord of the Rākṣasas unleashed a relentless storm of arrows, drenching the entire army of the gods. Witnessing his own forces being overwhelmed, Indra calmly circled back, surrounding Rāvaṇa in hopes of regaining control. A great cry arose among the Dānavas and Rākṣasas: “Alas, we are slain!” For they saw Rāvaṇa being seized by Indra. At that moment, Rāvaṇi—Rāvaṇa’s son—was consumed by furious anger. Mounting his chariot, his rage blazing, he plunged into the dreadful fray. He entered a great illusion, one that had once belonged to the lord of cattle, and, deeply agitated, hurled himself upon the gods’ army. Ignoring all the other deities, he charged straight for Indra. Yet the mighty Mahendra could not see the enemy’s son, for Rāvaṇi was cloaked in illusion. Even as the gods of great power attacked him, Rāvaṇi—unarmored—remained unfazed. He struck Mātali, Indra’s charioteer, with splendid arrows, and again covered Mahendra with a ceaseless shower of shafts. Realizing the tide of battle, Indra abandoned his chariot and dismissed Mātali. Mounting his celestial elephant Airāvata, he pursued Rāvaṇi through the sky. But Rāvaṇi, empowered by illusion and invisible to the eye, moved effortlessly through the heavens. He enshrouded Indra in illusion and attacked him with arrows. When he saw Indra exhausted, Rāvaṇi bound him with his mystical power and led him away, surrounded by his own army. Beholding mighty Indra being dragged away from the great battlefield, all the immortals wondered in astonishment what might happen next. “This master of illusion, this victorious Śakrajit, remains unseen; even Indra, wise as he is, is helplessly led away by illusion.” Enraged, the hosts of gods turned upon Rāvaṇa and showered him with arrows. But when Rāvaṇa faced the Ādityas and Vasus, he found himself unable to continue the fight, pressed hard by his enemies. At this, Rāvaṇi saw his father battered and weary from the blows of battle. Standing before him, he spoke: “Come, father, let us go; let the battle end. Know that victory is ours. Be at ease, free from distress. For the lord of the gods and the three worlds has been captured by divine power. The gods are humbled and their pride is broken. Enjoy the three worlds as you wish, having subdued your enemies by your might. Why exhaust yourself needlessly? Today’s battle is fruitless.” Hearing Rāvaṇa’s words, the gods ceased their attack and regained their composure. Then the king of the night-wandering beings, his fever of battle gone and victory attained, returned joyfully to his palace. Having recovered his son, he spoke: “By these feats of valor, equal to those of Atibala, you have increased the honor of our lineage. Today, by your unmatched strength, you have conquered the lord of the gods and all the immortals.” He continued, “Take Indra, mount the chariot, and go to his city, surrounded by your army. I, with my ministers, will follow swiftly behind you as you depart.” Thus, Rāvaṇa’s mighty son, encircled by his forces and vehicles, took the captive lord of the gods and returned to his own palace. His battle accomplished, he dismissed the rākṣasas. When Indra had been defeated by Atibala, the son of Rāvaṇa, the gods, led by the Lord of Creatures—Brahmā—went to Laṅkā. There, they found Rāvaṇa surrounded by his sons and brothers. The Lord of Creatures, standing in the sky, addressed him with gentle words: “Child Rāvaṇa, I am pleased with your son in battle. Truly, his valor and generosity are remarkable—he is your equal, or perhaps even greater. By your own brilliance, you have conquered the three worlds; your vow is fulfilled, and I am pleased with your son. This son of yours, Atibala, O Rāvaṇa, is mighty; he will become renowned as the conqueror of Indra among all beings. This rākṣasa will be strong and unconquerable; relying on him, O king, you have brought the gods under your control.” Brahmā then advised, “Therefore, O mighty-armed one, release Mahendra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. And let the gods grant your son a boon for Indra’s liberation.” At this, Indrajit—the mighty victor in battle, radiant with splendor—spoke: “O gods, if he is released, I choose immortality. Among quadrupeds, those who move in the sky, or other beings of great might—among trees, shrubs, creepers, grasses, stones, and mountains—all creatures, when there is cause for fear from one another, are afraid. Thus, in this world, fear arises for all from everyone.” The Lord of Creatures replied to Meghanāda, “There is no absolute immortality for any living being on earth—not for quadrupeds, birds, or other mighty beings.” Hearing these words from the imperishable Brahmā, Indrajit—knowing that no living being on earth could be truly immortal—stood firm and declared, “Then let it be heard what boon may bring success in the release of Śatakratu, Indra.