Surging with fury, Dūṣaṇa, the formidable commander of the rākṣasas, led his vast army against Rāma. He unleashed a relentless storm of arrows, covering the battlefield and Rāma himself from all sides. But Rāma, undaunted, responded in kind, his arrows flying swift and true, cutting through the onslaught. Enraged, Dūṣaṇa, the destroyer of foes, blocked Rāma’s assault with arrows as fierce as thunderbolts. Yet Rāma’s anger blazed brighter. With a sharp razor-headed arrow, he severed Dūṣaṇa’s mighty bow in the midst of battle. Then, with four more arrows, he struck down the four horses of Dūṣaṇa’s chariot. Not stopping there, Rāma used keen arrows to slay the horses and, with a crescent-headed shaft, he beheaded the charioteer. Three more arrows pierced Dūṣaṇa’s chest, wounding the rākṣasa deeply. Stripped of his bow, chariot, horses, and charioteer, Dūṣaṇa seized a terrifying iron club. This dreadful weapon, wrapped in golden bands and studded with sharp iron spikes, was smeared with blood and fat, its touch as fierce as thunderbolts and lightning, capable of shattering even the fortresses of gods. It resembled a mountain peak, and in Dūṣaṇa’s hands, it seemed like a great serpent poised to strike. Roaring, Dūṣaṇa rushed at Rāma, his monstrous club raised high. But as he charged, Rāma let loose two arrows, severing both of Dūṣaṇa’s ornamented arms. Deprived of his weapon and strength, the massive rākṣasa fell to the earth, his iron club tumbling beside him—like Indra’s banner cast down before him, or a mighty elephant brought low after its tusks are broken. As Dūṣaṇa’s huge form crashed to the ground, his arms severed, all beings witnessing the battle honored Rāma, exclaiming, “Well done! Well done!” Yet even as Dūṣaṇa fell, three fierce commanders of the rākṣasa army, gripped by the noose of death, rushed at Rāma together—Mahākapāla, Sthūlākṣa, and the mighty Pramāthī. Mahākapāla brandished a massive spear, Sthūlākṣa seized a heavy pattiśa, and Pramāthī raised a battle-axe. Seeing these warriors charge, Rāma met them with a hail of sharp arrows, greeting these unwelcome guests with deadly precision. With a single arrow, he cut off Mahākapāla’s head. With a torrent of arrows, he crushed Pramāthī, and with more shafts, he filled the large eyes of Sthūlākṣa, bringing him down like a great tree whose branches have been lopped. In a surge of fury, Rāma destroyed Dūṣaṇa’s five thousand followers, sending them all to the abode of Yama. When word reached Khara of Dūṣaṇa’s death and the slaughter of his attendants, his rage was boundless. He ordered his remaining generals, “Dūṣaṇa has fallen in battle, along with his followers. Gather the great army! With every weapon, let all the rākṣasas slay Rāma, that mere man!” Unconquerable Karavīrākṣa, harsh Paruṣa, Kālakārmuka, Hemamālī, Mahāmālī, Sarpāsya, and Rudhirāśana—twelve mighty leaders—rallied their forces and charged at Rāma, releasing showers of arrows. But Rāma, radiant and resolute, struck down the rest of the army with arrows that blazed like fire, their golden and diamond tips shining as they flew. His arrows, with golden feathers, flashed like smoky flames and struck the rākṣasas with the force of thunderbolts felling great trees. With precise aim, Rāma struck down a hundred rākṣasas with a hundred arrows, a thousand with a thousand. Their armor and ornaments shattered, their bows splintered, the night-wandering demons fell to the earth, stained with blood. The battlefield was covered, as if with sacred grass for a great altar, by the fallen—hair unbound, drenched in blood. The forest itself became dreadful, resembling hell, muddied with flesh and blood. Rāma alone, fighting on foot, slew fourteen thousand rākṣasas of terrible deeds. Of that mighty army, only Khara, the chariot-warrior; Triśiras, the rākṣasa; and Rāma, the destroyer of foes, remained. All the rest, fierce and formidable, had been slain by Rāma, the elder brother of Lakṣmaṇa. Seeing his formidable force destroyed by Rāma’s might, Khara, blazing with anger, approached Rāma in his grand chariot, like Indra with his thunderbolt raised. Now begins the twenty-seventh chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇyakāṇḍa. As Khara advanced to confront Rāma, his commander Triśiras, the rākṣasa, stepped forth and addressed him: “Appoint me, who am valiant, and withdraw from this rashness. Behold Rāma, mighty-armed, struck down in battle by me. I pledge you the truth and take up arms: I shall slay Rāma, who deserves death among all the rākṣasas. Either I shall be death to him in battle, or he to me. Hold your eagerness for a moment and witness this. If Rāma is slain, you shall return to Janasthāna with joy; but if I am killed, you may go forth to fight him.” Khara, persuaded by Triśiras and drawn by the desire for battle, granted his permission: “Go, fight.” And so Triśiras, riding a radiant chariot yoked with horses, rushed at Rāma in battle, like a towering mountain with three peaks bearing down upon him.