If Indrajit was destroyed, Ravan was destroyed to the point of no return when he heard that Ram and Lakshman somehow managed to survive through the snake darts that had almost suffocated them. There had been a great debate as to who would inform the Great Demon King, and eventually they had just placed twigs in small cups, and Poor Yuka Rakshas picked up the shortest twig, and then, got the "short end of the stick".

Quivering from head to toe, the demon known for being as thin as a twig (okay, I'll stop now) blinked rapidly as he stood trembling before a seething Ravan, who regarded the messenger closely. The poor guy. His every word was obstructed by a stutter as persistent as Ravan's steadily reddening face. "Kya M-m-m-m-m-muh kar rahe ho?" Ravan snapped. "Unless you were talking about the m-m-m-m-mourning of the m-m-m-m-monkeys." The court erupted into laughter, and Ravan settled back. "Was it gruesome? It must have been, if you're trembling so much!"

The rakshas shook his head, finally coming to the terms that he would die, even if Ram and Lakshman hadn't. "Your greatness, your highness, your lordship," Ravan waved him off. "-the two men, Ram and Lakshman, have shaken off their darts like eager lions and rejoined their army, which is celebrating louder than anything. As the sun rises, it bathes them in victorious light, and they look like the Gods in our temples, great, fierce, and now, one of them is pacing impatiently as if ready to storm our fields."

Ravan blinked, trying to comprehend what the demon was saying through the sentence. "You mean to say, you ungrateful useless messenger, that Ram and Lakshman are, ALIVE?" Ravan didn't wait for an answer, knowing that was exactly what the messenger meant. "This entire night, we celebrated with wine that clouded our minds and dances that our wives would slap at us for, and you mean to tell us that those two men in deer's clothing still roam our battlefields, with their army of apes?" Mandodari glared at him from the sidelines, but did not say  a word.

Not a single word. Ravan had brought this upon himself. She had warned him, so many times, and he had just laughed it off, called her jealous. If Mandodari was jealous, she would have shown it long ago, when Ravan married 10,000 women. No, this was more than that. This was war, and this was a war which only dharm could win. All she could do was pray, pray that Ravan would come to his sense. But deep down, she knew that his ego could block all her prayers.

Ravan stood up, his eyes bloodshot and the little red, faint nerves showing, like the large, bulbous, eggplant purple vein thumping in his throat like a heart beating blood. "Those hermits are alive, and you stand before me like you were thrown in ice cold water and beg for mercy and heat? I sentence you, bringer of bad news, to death!" But even this proclamation wasn't allowed to boom in the high ceilings of the throne room for long as Ravan whirled around, all the silks used to clothe his body whirling around like a storm with him.

And suddenly, he smiled, and it was the most frightening thing that many of his courtiers had ever experienced or seen. Their king, smiling while a giant purple snake throbbed on his neck, and his eyes had no whites left to differentiate between the black of his pupil and the red that had taken over the ivory. His yellow teeth bared in what would have seemed normal, if his entire aura didn't reflect that of someone begging for vengeance.

"Dhumraksh!" he laughed, and many of his courtiers whirled around to where the mighty rakshas stood. "Why should I worry so much, when you're here? Go, take as many men as you want, and kill Ram, Hanuman, and the rest of the monkey army!" Lakshman, of course, was forgotten, (a bad idea, since he would prove to be quite a threat for Ravan), and with great pomp and glamour, Ravan sent Dhumraksh out at the first sound of the shankh, and sat down, appeased and excited.

Dhumraksh wasn't obnoxious (like Devantak), or particularly large (like Atikay), or necessarily Ravan's favorite (like Meghnad/Indrajit). But Dhumraksh, left out of the spotlight, clamored for appreciation from Lankesh, and with that, killed many enemies. Soon, he became known as the one whom Ravan could send when the enemy threatened to be more than the preliminary armies could take. But he had never been singled out like Ravan like this, and now kindled with a new burning fire to win, with a thousand carefully selected men, Dhumraksh stepped out from the gates of Lanka on his horse. A thin, malicious, blood stained smile spread across his scarred face.

-----O-----

Ram, meanwhile, along with Vibhishan, had been called to the viewing area by Angad, who trotted back and forth, seeming alarmed and startled, his eyes wide and shaking his head back and forth (I'm telling you, I'm not doing this on purpose, but just for clarification, #Angadisnotahorse), and Lakshman, who simply sat down, arms crossed, as they got ready for battle before the sun rose out of the hills. Ram's whole body was still pale from the night before, and even then, hours later, he glanced at Lakshman with a sense of grateful relief, as if not believing that there he was, his brother, standing great and simmering as before (no, it's just a robot, Ram). Vibhishan quickly took over. "Do tell me, why were we called over?" he asked. "Was it something important? I was just completing my daily consumption of English Tea."

Angad stared at him disbelievingly, mouth open and gaping, before quickly shaking his head as if brushing off water like a dog and turning towards Ram. "Uh, yes, it was Prabhu. We were just getting our bows and maces and what-not ready when-" he exhaled, almost out of breath. "Lakshman bhaiyya-" Lakshman cleared his throat. "I mean-I, me. It was me! ALL ME!" Angad pointed both fingers to himself to affirm his word. "I saw, right at the gates of Lanka, a great shadow on horseback. I've never seen that silhouette before, Prabhu."

Vibhishan quickly migrated to the viewing point, before stepping back, alarmed. He quickly hurried back to Ram's right hand. "Shri Ram, that would be the silhouette of the great, most feared, and quite undefeatable Dhumraksh." He turned back around to describe it, and was met straight on with a Lakshman-glare, and quickly turned back to Ram. "I-I-I-I mean that he's great, but certainly, surely, completely not as great as you, oh great man." Some more glaring. "And your great undefeated, great-great army, of course." he cleared his throat. "So great."

Ram turned amusedly towards Vibhishan. "You do not have to sugar coat things, Vibhishan. But indeed, Dhumraksh cannot remain undefeated, or else he will be a havoc to our army. But right now, let us worry about other things." Lakshman whirled back around, his pitch eyes tracking Dhumraksh's movements, before whispering something into Ram's ear. "Ah yes," Ram agreed. "Angad, tell Hanuman and his legion to migrate to the West Gate. I agree."

-----O-----

It was an enraged vanar sena that went out to fight the next day. Enraged, that they were attacked so, so close to their own camp. Enraged that illusions were used against them. Enraged, that they had seen their leaders so helpless, and they themselves had to be so completely unable to do anything about it. They were enraged, to say the least, and if they fought angrily before, it was no comparison to how they fought that day, with anger infused in their minds like blood flowing through their bodies.

The recent entourage of snakes sent from Lanka had not seemed to hinder Ram's performance on the battlefield in terms of war. Meghnad was nowhere to be found on the field, and Ram knew that Meghnad would not be found on the field that day. He was busy mourning the disarming of his nagastras, and Ram had a stealthy feeling that he wouldn't be out of his room all day. Still, it was a plus, for he could finally trust Lakshman to get out of the tent instead of sitting there all day, glaring at everyone who passed by, who could, in his words, "do exciting stuff, bhaiyya!".

And so there he was, to the relief of Nal and Neel, both of whom, each day, would get scared out of their wits by the almost red eyes staring at them forlornly from the darkness. "Prabhu!" Neel complained. "He's more dramatic than me! And I'm the most dramatic one here! He stares at me like a wolf or an owl of some sort, as if I'm lost in a forest and he's some predator! Yesterday, Yuvraj Angad-" Nal coughed, and Ram immediately knew exactly who it was. "ANGAD-dropped a bottle of ink in fright and almost destroyed our maps!"

------O------

Raghuvanshi indeed. Ram fended off thousands of demons at a time, with no cover whatsoever, just an open chest and a bow the size of Vishnu's. While his chest heaved, taking in deep breaths, his mind concentrated on different things. One moment, it would be pulling the bowstring back up to his ears and releasing, upon a single breath out, thousands of arrows, and taking thousands of lives. And then, on another moment, it would be calmly contemplating the fact that the sun above him framed him in a spotlight.

Sometimes, it even drifted to the performance of his own army, and then his heart would swell, because at that very moment, Angad would be swinging his mace like some sort of heavy missile, and Nal and Neel would be taking turns jumping up and down on different rakshasas like children, and Jambavan would be throwing his spears so they killed five at a time, and Hanuman would be walking around the battlefield calmly, leaving a trail of multiarmed, astra-holding bodies behind him.

And then at some point, Ram and Lakshman were fighting practically back to back, one foot away from each other, a circle of death as arrows were sent flying deep into anyone who tried to approach the duo (think Bhallaldev's chariot from Baahubali). They were like elephants together, like flying birds who could wield weapons, creatures of pure rage, power, and destruction, not vengeful, but not with the childish innocence of a commoner.

But if Ram and Lakshman, sons of Dasharath, exiled Princes of Ayodhya, former crown prince and crown army general, were the center of the battlefield, shining like the day and the night, the sun together, then Dhumraksh was an asteroid, slowly sneaking by, his stealthy movement going unnoticed by everyone except Prahast, who simply shot him a sly sort of smile as he turned around on his horse (not elephant, horse, elephants don't gallop. If you see an elephant gallop, RUN THE OPPOSITE WAY-), galloping towards the center of the battlefield as a distraction.

Dhumraksh snuck into the Western fort. Or rather, he tried to. Right as he stepped over the preliminary boundaries, he was met with a mighty wall. Or rather, the mighty chest of Hanuman. Remember? The flying monkey who could change sizes and shift into different things? Yeah, that Hanuman. That Hanuman glared at Dhumraksh, his eyes wide and almost admonishing, and his hands on his hips. Well no problem, thought Dhumraksh as he swung his mace. Another monkey. He had killed many before.

Well, the thing was, he hadn't killed any monkeys who were the son of Pawan, the God of Wind. Hanuman stopped the mace in midair with his palm, the great smack echoing throughout the West Fort arena. As the two mights, leaders of their legions fought a battle, their armies rushed at each other. Hanuman, at that point, was just playing around with Dhumraksh, throwing his around this way and that. But Dhumraksh had had enough.

With a great roar, he ran towards Hanuman, his fists bared as he threw away his mace to be rolling around in the dust of Lanka's battlefield. With anger enough to rival Ravan's at that moment, the previously undefeated Dhumraksh met Hanuman's own fists and they pushed each other around in the dust as if old friends just having a simple, playful dangal. But indeed it was not. Dhumraksh reached for his dagger that was hidden in his waistband, and it that moment of vulnerability, Hanuman wrapped his arms around the great rakshasa's chest and threw him towards the ground.

Dhumraksh lay moaning and groaning, rolling around in the dust as Hanuman walked around. He curled his mouth up into a smile. Had the foolish monkey felt pity for him, and had gone to leave? Well, that would be the biggest mistake of his life! Just as the rakshas went to get up, Hanuman returned with a rock the size of an elephant. Dhumraksh's eyes widened as he realized how close the end was. "No!" he shouted. "NO!"

But too late. In moments, the rock was thrown, and the demon, the demon who eliminated all of Ravan's enemies when all hope was lost, was dead. "As I killed Akshay Kumara, the man who dares impersonate the Bollywood great, I kill you, Dhumraksh!" Hanuman cried, beating his chest with a roar as the monkeys of his legion (who had killed Dhumraksh's legion long ago, and were just watching the fight nauseously), cheered.

------O------

Ravan cried out, stepping off of his throne as the messenger quickly ran away before his death sentence too was finalized. "Dhumraksh." he whispered. "The undefeated. Defeated? How could it be? I cannot believe it! He must be lying! He must be-" Ravan cut himself off. "We now shall send greats better than Dhumraksh, mightier than elephants, and fiercer than lions."

------O-----

"Polly Pockets!" exclaimed Vibhishan. "Hanuman, you are the true great, aren't you? Defeating Dhumraksh, well I'll be! This calls for a slice of ca-" he looked around. "Oh, I forget sometimes, no cake around here." he cleared his throat. "But Shri Ram, now Ravan is truly enraged, you see? He shall send greats greater than before! I don't know who next, for Ravan always has shifted his men around each war, depending on the might of the enemy, paranoid about spies like Khar and Dushan were."

Ram shook his head, leaning back against the wood of the tent pole. "Well, we'll be ready Vibhishan. We'll be ready. But for now, finally the morning ends. Change the shift of the guards, let them drink some water. I'll be out a few more minutes, as the enemy inches ever closer to our safe den. But now we have taught Ravan, don't you see? We have taught him that we are not to be taken lightly."

A/N-It has now come to my attention that this war thing is going to...last a while for sure. So, um, not only will this probably cross 150, it will probably reach 160. So......yah. 

So, I'm doing my research, and I'm realizing that there's a LOT of rakshasas we have to kill off before the shakti spear. It's going to be a wait guys. Sorry. I wonder how many chapters I'll take to write that entire thing, from the injury to the cure. 3 sounds about right.

I think that I'm not going to update on Sundays, just to make this go slower. I mean, because, this is going too fast. BY THE WAY, @Ramayana_lover, you didn't compliment me on the AMAZING banner I made for you in the last chapter-JK, it sucked, and my notifs are weird, so maybe you did, but anyways-

No one notified me that authors other than myself LIKE getting Fan Graphics/artwork. Uh-hello? Absolutely no one. I thought I was being a nuisance 😭😭😭😭 Now I have every excuse to make drawings for EVERYONE-

Okay, so #Mochinamesthings is picking up track somehow? I mean, my names aren't even that great! Look at Ratri, with her Abhikyabhraatritvam, and Darkness Engulfing Death, and Jessica with her Unbreakable Bonds, and then there's me, who named my book something stupid like THE PRINCES OF AYODHYA, LIKE-

One thing I just realized though? TPoA can be a good shortened version of the title, and you know what else? My favorite Harry Potter book, The Prisoners of Azkaban, is also TPoA!! AHAAAHAHAHAHHA-That was not on purpose.