As the dreadful conflict consumed the sacred field, Nakula, the graceful son of Madri, advanced against Karna with noble confidence, believing his valor worthy of the encounter. Yet before the immeasurable skill of the son of Radha, his courage was tested beyond endurance. Karna, overflowing with irresistible mastery, shattered Nakula’s mighty bow with a succession of flawless arrows. He slew the charioteer, felled the noble steeds, struck down the vigilant wheel-guards, tore away the banner, and smashed the lofty standard that proclaimed Nakula’s royal dignity. A faint yet ruinous smile crossed Karna’s lips as he watched the proud prince stand stripped of every emblem of warfare.
Refusing to surrender, Nakula seized a gleaming sword and a polished shield and rushed forward like a lion deprived of its den. Yet Karna’s arrows, guided by unfailing precision, splintered both shield and sword before they could serve their purpose. Nakula then lifted a massive mace to hurl against his formidable foe, but Karna shattered it into fragments before it left his grasp. Undeterred, the Pandava prince grasped a shining bludgeon, only to see that too reduced to countless pieces by Karna’s relentless shafts. With consummate skill, Karna sought not merely to conquer his adversary but to humble his spirit, stripping away every trace of confidence without claiming his life.
The torrent of arrows pierced Nakula from every side until his body bled beneath their merciless assault. His vigor faded, his prowess was suspended, his perseverance abandoned him, and the glory that had once adorned his stature was cut down before the gaze of assembled warriors. Bearing upon his shoulders the crushing burden of humiliation, he withdrew from the battlefield in desperate search of safety. Thus Sanjaya narrated the scene to the aged king Dhritarashtra, revealing how completely Karna had overwhelmed the handsome Pandava.
Karna then pursued the retreating prince and, with effortless superiority, curved his bow around Nakula’s neck like a brilliant rainbow encircling a mountain peak. Smiling with unconcealed scorn, he addressed the defeated warrior. “You once uttered boastful words concerning me. Henceforth, if you desire to speak, first measure your words, weigh their worth, examine their relevance, and consider whether they suit your own stature. Nothing you have spoken has ever been worthy of my character. Delightful conversation or honorable rivalry belongs only between equals, and you are no equal to me. You are but a child upon the field of war. Today you have learned who I am and discovered the measure of my strength and perseverance. Let that knowledge suffice. Before seeking battle again, first understand your own power and that of your opponent. Should defeat overtake you so shamefully, abandon such contests and pursue deeds befitting your courage. Depart now, and seek shelter beneath the mighty shade of Arjuna.”
Though victory stood entirely within his grasp, Karna remembered the solemn promise he had given to Kunti that none of her sons, save Arjuna, would perish by his hand. Bound by that sacred vow, he spared Nakula’s life. Broken in spirit and burning with unbearable shame, Nakula hastened toward the shelter of Yudhishthira. His sighs rose like those of a mighty serpent imprisoned within a narrow vessel, while sorrow consumed his heart. Karna, having humbled his foe without violating his sacred oath, shone upon the battlefield like the blazing midday sun, radiant with unconquerable enthusiasm.
His magnificent white horses surged forward with irresistible speed, while the spotless white banner fluttered above his chariot like a flock of celestial swans soaring through the heavens. Driving directly into the Panchala divisions, Karna unleashed a devastating rain of arrows. Charioteers fell lifeless from their seats, banners were shredded into tatters, horses collapsed upon the blood-soaked earth, elephant drivers lost their heads, mighty tusks were broken, trunks severed, and enormous beasts crashed down with earth-shaking force. Warriors were dismembered without mercy as arms, legs, heads, and torsos were cut apart by his divine weapons. Spears, clubs, pestles, bows, massive hammers, and countless weapons were smashed into fragments. Horses collapsed with mutilated faces, while rivers of blood flowed across the field. Karna moved through the carnage like the very embodiment of destruction, spreading terror wherever his chariot rolled.
Meanwhile, Yuyutsu, the righteous son of Dhritarashtra who had embraced the cause of the Pandavas, encountered Uluka in a fierce duel. Yuyutsu released a powerful arrow that struck Uluka with the force of a thunderbolt. Enraged, Uluka shattered his opponent’s bow. Undismayed, Yuyutsu seized another bow and swiftly discharged sixty-four arrows into Uluka’s body while piercing the charioteer with three more before showering him with a relentless volley. Uluka, consumed by wrath, retaliated with twenty-four arrows, brought down Yuyutsu’s banner, and received five sharp shafts in his own chest. Then, blazing like a tower of fury, Uluka slew Yuyutsu’s charioteer with a single arrow, killed his horses with four more, and exhausted the warrior’s remaining strength beneath another deadly shower. Amid the jeers of watching soldiers, Yuyutsu abandoned his ruined chariot and mounted another, while Uluka, encouraged by his triumph, charged fearlessly into the Panchala ranks, displaying remarkable mastery of every branch of warfare and spreading panic among the opposing army.
Elsewhere, Shrutakarma encountered Satanika, the valiant son of Draupadi. Horses fell, charioteers were slain, and both young heroes lost their chariots in the violence of combat. Sanjaya informed Dhritarashtra that the sons of the royal houses continued the struggle after mounting fresh chariots, refusing to abandon the field despite their grievous losses.
Shakuni then advanced against Shrutasoma, the son of Bhima. The young prince roared like a lion and released a dense shower of arrows, but the crafty Gandhara king shattered them all in midair. Displaying practiced skill, Shakuni demolished Shrutasoma’s chariot, destroyed his horses, tore down his banner, and pierced the young warrior with many arrows, though he could not extinguish the prince’s courage. Fighting from the ground, Shrutasoma rained such an astonishing storm of arrows upon Shakuni’s chariot that astonished warriors could scarcely behold it through the dense cloud of shafts. Inflamed with wounded pride, Shakuni broke the youth’s bow. Shrutasoma immediately drew his glittering sword and, with extraordinary dexterity, cut down numerous incoming arrows. Yet even that splendid weapon was shattered by Shakuni. Before it fell, the broken sword was hurled with remarkable force, striking Shakuni’s bow and breaking it in two. Shakuni quickly mounted another chariot and once more plunged into battle, harassing the Pandava warriors with renewed ferocity.
A terrible contest also unfolded between Kripacharya and Dhrishtadyumna. Each sought the downfall of the other, yet Kripa steadily gained the advantage. Among the Pandava soldiers anxious whispers spread that Kripa would never forgive the slaying of Drona, whose death had come through a stratagem that many deemed unrighteous. Endowed with celestial weapons and unmatched discipline, Kripa fought with effortless confidence. Neither fear nor fatigue touched him. The strength of his arms, the steadiness of his courage, and the brilliance of his martial science seemed beyond restraint.
Kripa then released a relentless torrent of arrows that grievously wounded Dhrishtadyumna’s horses and drenched his charioteer in blood. Overwhelmed by pain and despair, the charioteer spoke with trembling voice. “My lord, hear my counsel. The strength residing within this Brahmin warrior appears irresistible. Your arrows are shattered before reaching him. Such a calamity seems born of destiny itself. Never have I witnessed combat of this terrible nature. It is wise that we withdraw while life yet remains. Your greatness appears clouded, as though some ancient curse has diminished your power. Accept my words and preserve yourself for another hour.”
Exhausted, wounded, and unable to deny the truth before his eyes, Dhrishtadyumna replied in a faint voice that such counsel was indeed fitting. Thus Sanjaya concluded this portion of his report, describing how the fortunes of the Kauravas rose with dazzling brilliance while many of the foremost warriors of the Pandava host found themselves overwhelmed beneath the irresistible tide of their enemies’ valo
