As the battle drew near, the warrior stood firm, his heart steady with prayer. He took up his arrow, sharpened not just by steel but by sacred words, and released it with a fervent plea: “Fly far, O arrow, go forth and strike down our enemies. Let none of my own be touched by your force.” As the arrow soared, a wish followed it—that the kites and great birds, and the vultures who feast on the fallen, would attend only to the foes that fall, and that the army of his own people would remain unharmed. He prayed that none of these birds would follow or trouble his companions. Calling upon the mighty Maghavan, he implored, “Scatter the hostile army that stands against us. O Indra, slayer of Vṛtra, and you, Agni, burn the enemy on every side, let them not prevail.” He looked to the place where arrows rained down, where the young warriors themselves seemed like arrows, swift and resolute. There, he sought the protection of Bṛhaspati and the nurturing Aditi, asking that their shelter be ever upon his people. His voice rose in invocation: “Scatter the demons, scatter the foes, O Indra. Break the jaws of Vṛtra, shatter the wrath of our assailing enemies. Let your might be felt, O slayer of Vṛtra.” Again, he called: “Scatter our foes, O Indra. Cast down those who attack us. Whoever rises against us, let him be plunged into darkness, far from the light.” He remembered the arms of Indra—firm, youthful, invincible, and radiant. These arms, irresistible and victorious, had conquered the great strength of the Asuras. He called for them to be ready at the very first summons of battle. Turning to his own forces, he covered their vital parts with protective armor, invoking Soma, the king, to anoint them with ambrosia, Varuṇa to grant them victory, and all the gods to fill their hearts with gladness. He prayed that the enemies would become blind and headless, writhing like serpents, and that Indra would strike them down again and again, especially those already felled by Agni’s fire. With humility, he acknowledged the dangers even from within: “If any among us is hostile, or if anyone, near or far, wishes us harm, may all the gods strike him down. Let my prayer be my inner armor, let protection dwell within me.” He likened himself to a fearsome beast roaming the mountains, having reached the lair of his foe. With the sharp arrow fitted to his bow, he called upon Indra once more: “Strike down the enemies, scatter the foes!” Amidst these invocations, he prayed for peace and auspiciousness: “May we hear only what is good with our ears, O gods. May we see only what is good with our eyes, O worshipful ones. May we, strong in body and praising you, live out the full span allotted to us by the gods.” He sought well-being from all directions: “May Indra, famed for glory, grant us well-being. May Pūṣan, the all-knowing, grant us well-being. May Tārkṣya, swift as a chariot with unbroken wheels, grant us well-being. May Bṛhaspati bestow well-being upon us.” And finally, with a sacred utterance, he offered his closing prayer: “Om—may Bṛhaspati bestow well-being upon us.