At either end of the field, the warriors strove in battle, seeking not victory, but death. Prince Angada, lion-hearted son of Vali, met the demon Kampana in single combat. The rakshasa, with a terrible mace, struck the prince and shook him. Yet Angada rose unshaken, seized a great stone, and hurled it upon Kampana. Struck full, the demon fell, life fleeing his limbs. At the fall of his comrade, Sonitaksha, dark with wrath, approached Angada in his chariot, his frame trembling with anger. He rained arrows upon the prince, piercing his form.
Then he lost upon him sanctified shafts—Kshurapra, Naracha, Vatsadanta, Karna, Salya, Silimukha, and Vipatha—each bearing deadly purpose. Yet the mighty son of Vali, though wounded in many places, made their fury vain through sheer strength and endurance.
Enraged, Sonitaksha took sword and shield and sprang aloft. Angada, no less swift, followed him to the mid-sky. There he caught the demon, wrested the sword from him, roared like a lion, and with one sweeping stroke rent his chest. Sonitaksha fell from the heavens, unconscious. Then Angada, roaring like thunderclouds, stood holding the sword high, striking fear into the demon hosts.
At this, Prajangha and Yupaksha came to avenge their kin. Prajangha was attacked with a massive axe. Sonitaksha, recovering from his fall, rushed once more upon Angada with a mace. Surrounded by two demon warriors, Angada shone like the full moon amidst the stars of Vishakha. Seeing their prince thus encircled, the mighty vanaras Mynda and Dvivida came to his aid.
The battlefield shook as the colossal demons, armed with maces, swords, bows, and arrows, descended upon the simian ranks. A hair-splitting battle commenced. The vanaras fought with uprooted trees and stones, but Prajangha’s strikes shattered the trunks as they came. He and Yupaksha laid waste to chariots and elephants with volleys of arrows. Mynda and Dvivida hurled trees, which Sonitaksha shattered mid-air with his mace.
Then Prajangha, sword in hand, charged Angada. But Angada smote him with the trunk of an Arjuna tree. His fists followed, forcing the sword to fall from the demon’s grasp. In return, Prajangha tightened his fist and struck Angada’s brow. The prince faltered but only for a moment. Then, with a single mighty blow, Angada severed Prajangha’s head from his body. The headless trunk fell, and the earth drank the blood of its fury.
Yupaksha, seeing his uncle slain, burned with resolve. Sword in hand, he rushed upon Angada but was met by Dvivida, who struck him hard in the chest. Sonitaksha, rushing to aid his brother, wounded Dvivida. The vanara faltered but reached for his mace. The mighty Mynda arrived and smote Yupaksha in turn. The duel between these four—Mynda and Dvivida against Sonitaksha and Yupaksha—was fierce and terrible. Dvivida tore Sonitaksha’s face and hurled him to the earth. Mynda caught hold of Yupaksha and crushed him in a deadly embrace until he breathed no more.
The demon army, terrified at the fall of its warriors, fled to Kumbha, their great champion. He took up a bow of massive strength, and from it lost a shower of arrows that tore through the vanara lines. His bow gleamed like the rainbow. With one volley, he struck Dvivida and brought him down like Mount Trikuta falling. Then five fierce arrows struck Angada like tusks of a maddened elephant. But Angada did not yield. He hurled a great tree at Kumbha, but Kumbha’s arrows shattered it in flight.
Then came Jambavan, Sushena, and Vegadarshi to aid Angada. Kumbha met them with a rain of arrows, drowning the forest warriors like a pond filled with fallen trees. His strength was like the ocean, and his path was as impassable as the deep. Realizing Angada’s peril, Sugreeva, king of vanaras, leapt into battle like a lion upon a maddened elephant. He hurled mighty trees, yet Kumbha cut them all with shafts of lightning. Even foes admired his skill. But Sugreeva, swift as wind, snatched Kumbha’s bow and shattered it to splinters.
Then said Sugreeva: “O mighty one, your valor is high, your loyalty firm. You are equal to Ravana in might, to Prahlada and Bali in dharma, to Indra, Varuna, and Kubera in grandeur. Your mastery of the trident rivals the gods. Come, now, and fight me. Your archery is like Indrajit’s, your chivalry like Ravana’s. You have slain great warriors and won honor even from foes. But I see you are weary and gasping. In the code of righteous war, the exhausted should not be slain. Go, rest. Then return.”
The words, though noble, stung like an insult. The pride of Kumbha flared like fire fed with ghee. In rage, he seized Sugreeva and sought to choke him. But Sugreeva broke free, and the two clashed like twin elephants in a wild jungle. Dust rose with their fury. They hurled each other into the air, their roars shaking the sky. The waves of the ocean trembled as if mountains had fallen in.
Then Sugreeva lifted Kumbha and cast him into the sea with thunderous might. The ocean reeled as Kumbha sank deep. But he rose again and struck Sugreeva in the chest, breaking his shield and drawing blood. Then Sugreeva, son of Aditya, gathered his breath and struck Kumbha in turn. The demon fell like the flame of Mars extinguished by time. His fall was like the sun brought low by Rudra.
At the fall of Kumbha, the earth quaked, the mountains trembled, and the cries of the demon host echoed through caverns and valleys. Though many rakshasas still stood, eager to test their might against Rama’s host, the vanaras held firm. For they fought not for pride or vengeance, but for truth, and the triumph of dharma.
