When Khara beheld his formidable army utterly destroyed by the mighty Rāma in that great conflict, he was seized with fury. Mounting his splendid chariot, Khara advanced toward Rāma like Indra himself, thunderbolt raised and ready for battle. As Khara surged forward, his commander, the rākṣasa Triśiras, intercepted him and spoke with boldness: “Let me, valiant as I am, take your place. Withdraw from this reckless charge—witness as I bring down Rāma, mighty-armed, in the thick of battle. I pledge my life and arms for this cause: Rāma, who is a death-bringer to all our kind, shall fall by my hand. Either I shall be his death, or he shall be mine. Hold back your eagerness for combat for just a moment and be witness to this duel. Should I slay Rāma, you will return joyfully to Janasthāna; but if I am killed, you may then go forth to fight him yourself.” Khara, moved by Triśiras’s words and his own desire for the clash, consented: “Go—fight!” Thus permitted, Triśiras charged toward Rāma, riding a radiant chariot drawn by swift horses, resembling a towering mountain with three peaks as he rushed into battle. Triśiras unleashed torrents of arrows, their whistling and crashing like the rolling of thunderclouds, the sound swelling like a drum soaked in rain. Rāma, seeing the rākṣasa’s approach, readied his bow, his hands steady as he grasped his sharp arrows, preparing to meet this new threat. A tumultuous clash erupted between Rāma and Triśiras, both warriors of immense strength, their conflict reminiscent of a lion and an elephant locked in deadly combat. Triśiras struck Rāma on the forehead with three arrows, drawing blood and kindling Rāma’s wrath. Enraged and indignant, Rāma declared, “What strength this valiant rākṣasa possesses! His arrows have wounded my forehead, yet they feel as gentle as flowers.” With those words, Rāma’s fury blazed. He seized arrows like deadly serpents and, in his wrath, struck Triśiras on the chest with fourteen shafts. With four more, sharp and well-feathered, he brought down all four of Triśiras’s horses, and with eight more arrows, he felled the charioteer within the chariot. Rāma then cut down Triśiras’s raised banner with a single arrow. As the night-stalking rākṣasa leapt from his ruined chariot, Rāma struck him in the heart, rendering him senseless, and, with his immeasurable spirit, pierced him with more arrows. Swiftly, Rāma loosed three arrows and severed all three of Triśiras’s heads. Smoke and blood streamed from the fallen rākṣasa as he collapsed in the midst of battle, mortally wounded. Seeing their champion destroyed, the remaining rākṣasas, routed and defeated, fled in terror to Khara, like deer scattering before a tiger. Observing their flight, Khara, burning with rage, turned them back and himself charged at Rāma with renewed fury, as Rāhu rushes to devour the moon. Witness now the next episode of this glorious tale. Seeing Dūṣaṇa and Triśiras both slain in battle, even Khara was struck with fear at the sight of Rāma’s valor. He looked upon his once-mighty army, now laid low by Rāma alone, and his heart was heavy. Yet, gathering his resolve, Khara advanced on Rāma, as Namuci once did against Indra. With his powerful bow drawn, Khara hurled barbed, bloodthirsty arrows at Rāma, like enraged venomous serpents seeking their mark. Again and again he shook his bowstring, displaying his mastery of weapons, and his chariot sped through the fray as he loosed his deadly shafts. So great was Khara’s onslaught that arrows filled all the quarters and directions, darkening the sky. Rāma, undaunted, took up his mighty bow and responded with arrows impossible to withstand, like sparks of fire, making the heavens seem void of space, as if a torrential rainstorm filled the air. The sky became crowded with arrows from both warriors, leaving no open space. The sun itself was veiled by the multitude of missiles, its light hidden as the two fought fiercely, intent on each other’s destruction. Khara struck Rāma with nalikas, narachas, and sharp-tipped vikarni arrows, as an elephant is struck with goads. All beings who watched saw Khara, standing in his chariot with bow in hand, surrounded by the storm of battle, resembling Death itself holding a noose. Khara regarded Rāma—slayer of armies, steadfast in valor, mighty in spirit—thinking him exhausted. Yet Rāma, seeing Khara bold as a lion, moving with a lion’s stride, felt no fear, just as a lion does not fear a lesser animal. Khara, his great chariot shining like the sun, approached Rāma as a moth is drawn to flame. With skillful hands, Khara cut Rāma’s bow and arrow at the grip, right in the midst of battle. But Rāma, undeterred, seized seven blazing arrows, radiant as Indra’s thunderbolt, and, enraged, struck Khara in his vital points. Even after being tormented by a thousand arrows from Khara, Rāma’s strength remained unshaken. Khara, roaring loudly in the fight, pressed his attack, but Rāma stood resolute, a beacon of divine valor amid the storm of battle.