ಆ ಯುದ್ಧಭೂಮಿ ಭಯಾನಕವಾಗಿ ಬದಲಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಶವಗಳ ಗುಡ್ಡಗಳು Everywhere, and a great river of blood flowed, its current roaring like a haunted forest, echoing with the cries of birds and ಜಕ್ಕಾಳಗಳು. That broad stream of blood surged with tumultuous waves, filled with the agonized cries of the wounded, the desperate calls for help, and the frantic efforts of those seeking rescue. From the heaps of dead and half-dead, torrents of blood poured, turning the scene terrifying; corpses twitched atop the backs of the living, striking fear into all who beheld it. Fragments of clouds rested atop piles of elephants and corpses, while shattered chariots formed a vast forest of broken parasols. That river of blood carried away chariots and elephants, crowded with arrows, spears, lances, maces, and swords. The ground was covered with fallen armor, ends of canopies, and shields, corpses concealed beneath heaps of banners, yak-tail fans, and cloth strips. The wind rustled through thick quivers and broken bows, while the lords of the slain lay asleep atop beds made of heaps of arrows and clusters of shields. Crowns, necklaces, armlets, shining discs, bows, and arrows lay scattered across the field, and thick, long cords of entrails were dragged by jackals, wolves, and birds. The battlefield echoed with the gnashing of teeth from the few survivors, and living men struggled, half-submerged in the muddy blood. Coins and heaps of shells were strewn about, eyes protruded from hundreds of severed heads, and dreadful rivers of blood flowed, carrying masses of arms and logs. Everywhere, the cries of grieving relatives filled the air, with dead and half-dead men and the remains of all weapons, chariots, horses, and canopies scattered across the field. Headless trunks danced, their arm-stumps raised like clubs, while nostrils were clogged with lumps reeking of blood, marrow, and fat. Half-swollen, dying horses mingled with noble men whose lives were cut short, and war drums were struck by the waves of rivers flowing with blood. Dying horses and elephants dragged bodies, splashed by streams of blood, while gusts of wind carried the cries and blood of perishing warriors. The voices of those whose mouths were stained with the curse of brief life hiccupped through the air, flesh torn and the stench of fat and blood heavy with pain. Elephants and horses, their noses half-broken, were seized by the hands of the dead, and the ground was strewn with corpses of men and beasts fallen without support. The wailing of bereft relatives and friends echoed amidst the tumult of blood from the corpses, and women whose husbands had died lay with their throats cut by weapons. At the place of corpses, people examined the bodies of relatives, agitated by the mingling of bodies dragged away by corpse-bearers and jackals. Faces like lotuses tangled in hair and sinew whirled and danced in the eddies, and a great river of blood flowed with high, surging waves. At the end of life, many remembered sons, loved ones, mothers, gods, and wealth, crying out “ಅಯ್ಯೋ! ಅಯ್ಯೋ!” and speaking of the pain of wounds that cut to the core. Limbs raised weapons, distracted by half-dead men; the foreign land resounded with cries of the dead, filled with bodies and the fallen. Dying men, disturbed by mutual enmity, chariots set in motion by fate; teeth unable to fight, forgetful of home and cherished deities. Some died on the road, ashamed, the brave resorting to flight; unafraid of the whirl of blood, eager to reach the place of escape. Arrows pierced vital spots, causing pain and shouts; bodies bound together, fate tossing them like swinging corpses. Banners, umbrellas, beautiful fans, and lotuses were carried away; the horizon tinged with crimson, radiant with blood-red lotuses. Chariot wheels whirled like eddies, resembling a blood-red ocean, adorned with clusters of flag foam and beautiful fan bubbles. Overturned chariots resembled cities shattered by trembling earth; a forest spread out, trees swept away by a storm of disaster. The field appeared like a world burned at the end of an age, like an ocean drunk dry by sages; a land devastated by excessive rain, its people utterly destroyed. Circles of vultures, their crests bent low, filled the field, along with flocks of crows; corpses of intoxicated elephants lay strewn with spears and maces. The scene spread out like a grove of palm trees growing from rocky peaks, with trees on the riverbank raised up by corpses, as if forming a forest. Flowers and cloths torn from the bodies of slain warriors were thickly scattered, adorned with garlands made from entrails dragged by jackals. Lotus clusters of the blood-lake, banners destroyed, were submerged in red mud, and friends of the fallen were called out by the cries of men sinking within. The lair of elephant corpses, watched by fearful people, was tangled with trees whose creepers had been cut by weapons, blocked by dense, fierce barricades. The river of blood carried clusters of severed elephant trunks and arms, and floating on its red current were white garments and round shields. Men, their lives cut short by death, wandered and fell swiftly; here and there, headless demons dropped down. People fled from the army, broken by a rain of arrows from above, their voices half-dead, gasping with hiccups, and the sound of blood gushing forth. The sword, washed by streams of blood gushing from the mouths of veins, moved onward through the dreadful tumult of tāla, ottāla, vetāla, and tāla drums' dance. Within the broken chariots and scattered logs, warriors hid in the depths of the forest; inside, the presence of living soldiers inspired fear in the charioteers and their steeds. Some corpses, their mouths filled with muddy blood, made faint rattling sounds of life; some, with their necks barely raised, were seen by jackals and crows. The battlefield was filled with the uproar of fierce carnivores fighting over a single piece of flesh; in the struggle for that one morsel, the place swarmed with death-hungry beasts. Thus, the land was transformed into a terrifying spectacle of destruction, pain, and death, echoing with the cries of the living and the dead, forever marked by the horrors of war.