The moment Krodhakala and his infernal army of six Rakshasa Akshauhinis burst from the twilight woods, the tide of war—and the spirit of the human alliance—turned to ice.
The Allied forces of Bhagadatta, Jayadratha, and Paundraka Vasudeva, seeing their demonic reinforcements, roared in renewed bloodlust and urged their soldiers to abandon the ceasefire and resume the attack.
The common soldiers of the Dharma Alliance, already battered by a day of grueling combat, crumbled. Facing the terrifying, fierce faces of Rakshasas and Asuras, their exhaustion gave way to pure, paralyzing fear.
Despair clouded their expressions. Many began to actively retreat, some crawling, having lost limbs or arms in the day's fighting. The sight of the massive, unholy reserve army broke their will.
Bahubali, standing amidst the chaos in his chariot, watched his valiant army dissolve into a panicked stream of humanity. He saw the terror, the loss, the crawling wounded. His jaw tightened, and a look of deep contemplation crossed his face.
"Death," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the din of the battlefield. "Death... death..."
Lord Krishna, who sat calmly before him as his charioteer, turned his head slightly, his gaze unwavering, waiting for Bahubali to articulate his despair.
Then, the contemplation vanished, replaced by a seismic surge of pure, defiant will.
Bahubali stood up in the chariot, his voice tearing through the chaotic field like a thunderclap, silencing the immediate panic around him.
"MAHASENA!"
The colossal shout froze every retreating, crawling, and panicked soldier. Thousands of eyes—human and Rakshasa alike—turned toward the center, toward the chariot where the Magadha King stood.
Bahubali looked at his army, his eyes blazing with the fire of unyielding Dharma.
"What is DEATH?" he roared, his voice carrying an impossible distance. "To see the enemies' army outnumber our own spirit? That is Death! To leave this battlefield in cowardice and abandon the cause of the people? That is Death! To let those who have committed Adharma—those who are laughing at the suffering of the common man—to let them live, and to not bring justice? THAT is the TRUE Death!"
He raised Ajaya Bow high, its dark wood catching the faint twilight. "I am going to win that Death! As long as I draw breath, no Adharma will happen before my eyes! I will not fail the people we swore to protect!"
He then looked directly at the sea of despairing faces. "WHO will come along with me?"
A lone, inspired soldier near the chariot shouted, "I AM!"
Bahubali's voice rose, louder, more challenging. "Who is coming to DIE alongside me?"
A chorus of shouts, galvanized by his raw courage, rose from the retreating ranks. "I AM! I AM!"
He delivered the final, rallying cry, his voice imbued with the passion of a warrior-king ready for martyrdom. "Who is the one who will PASS Death with me and LIVE to tell this heroic tale?!"
The response was an earth-shattering roar from the entire human army. "ME! ME! ME!"
Then Bahubali roars, "PARVATI PATAYEE! HAR HAR MAHADEV!"
"HAR HAR MAHADEV!"
"HAR HAR MAHADEV!"
"HAR HAR MAHADEV!"
The despair was broken. The retreating soldiers—men who had seen their King choose courage over fear—reversed course, their fear transformed into a fierce, righteous rage.
Seizing the moment, Bhishma, the Commander-in-Chief, commanded from the center. "Hear me, warriors! The strategy changes! Bahubali, Rudra, Karna, Arjuna! You shall maintain the fight against the allied human kings! Bhishma, Dronacharya, Kripacharya, and the remaining Pandavas and Kauravas will engage the Rakshasa horde!"
The orders were sharp and precise. The army of the Dharma Alliance instantly split into two disciplined forces.
Bahubali leaned forward, his resolve absolute. "Prabhu," he said to Krishna, "take the chariot towards Jayadratha. We will finish him as quickly as possible. Karna, Arjuna! Dispatch your opponents! Break the heads of the human alliance before the night descends completely!"
Krishna nodded and skillfully turned the chariot. Karna immediately charged toward Bhagadatta, and Arjuna advanced on Paundraka Vasudeva, understanding the urgent need to eliminate the primary human leadership.
As the last sliver of natural light disappeared, plunging the battlefield into an uneven, dangerous darkness, Bahubali performed a final, spectacular act of strategy.
He nocked an arrow to Ajaya Bow and chanted the complex mantra for the Suryastra (Sun Weapon). He drew the string back fully and released the arrow toward the highest point in the sky.
The arrow detonated with a blinding flash, and in its place, an Artificial Sun blazed into existence. It was a radiant, intense source of light, not natural warmth, but providing clear, stark visibility across the entire plain.
The Rakshasas and Asuras, creatures of the deep night, recoiled from the sudden, powerful illumination. The soldiers of the Dharma Alliance, however, found their footing, their fear lessened by the ability to clearly see the enemy.
Under the harsh glare of the artificial sun, the second, deadlier phase of the Mahayudh began, with the human commanders facing the demonic host, and Bahubali charging toward his terrified, vengeful opponent.