Across the field, the Pandava commanders watched this monstrous formation advance, and they knew that their moment had come. Their entire strategy for the day was focused on a single, desperate objective: to deliver Arjuna and Shikhandi to Bhishma. Every other consideration was secondary. Dhrishtadyumna, his face grim, arranged their army into a formation designed specifically for this one, terrible task. It was a complex, multi-layered array, a living pathway to a pre-destined assassination.
The Pandava Counter-Formation: A unique, unnamed Vyuha, a scalpel designed for a single, critical incision into the heart of the Kaurava army.
The Outer Shell: The main body of the Pandava army, commanded by Dhrishtadyumna, formed a broad, defensive front. Their primary mission was to engage the Kaurava vanguard, to absorb the initial, devastating charge of Drona, Ashwatthama, and the other Kaurava champions, and to tie them down in battle, preventing them from interfering with the central thrust.
The Flanking Forces: Two powerful flanking forces were created. The right flank was commanded by the mighty Bhima, and the left by the vengeful Satyaki. Their role was to create diversions, to attack the corners of the Kaurava square, and to draw away as many of the enemy forces as possible, creating chaos and relieving the pressure on the center.
The Central Phalanx (The Spear of Destiny): At the very heart of their formation was a special, heavily protected phalanx, a narrow, driving column of their finest warriors. At its absolute tip, his banner flying defiantly, rode Shikhandi, the son of Drupada. Directly behind him, his own chariot shielded by Shikhandi's, was Arjuna, with Krishna holding the reins. This was the spear. Their path was to be cleared and protected by a dedicated group of bodyguards, including the brilliant Abhimanyu, the five sons of Draupadi, and the fierce Ghatotkacha. Their sole purpose was to cut a bloody path through the Kaurava ocean, to ignore all other distractions, and to reach the grandsire.
It was a strategy of immense risk. They were exposing their greatest warrior, Arjuna, in a direct, targeted assault. But they had no other choice. As the war conches blew their mournful, echoing call, the great grinding square of the Kauravas moved forward, and the Pandava spear was hurled at its heart.
The ninth day's battle began with a terrifying, inhuman roar from Bhishma that was not a cry of rage, but of release. He was a man unbound, his heart finally freed from the agonizing conflict of love and duty. He was now pure warrior, pure destruction, an avatar of the war god himself. He plunged into the Pandava ranks, and what followed was not a battle, but a force of nature in action. His archery was a blur, a golden storm that seemed to have no source and no end. He moved with a speed that defied his age, his white chariot a ghostly specter that appeared everywhere at once, leaving a trail of death and devastation in its wake.
He cut down Pandava soldiers not by the hundreds, but by the thousands. He shattered the bows of a dozen champions, killed the charioteers of a hundred more, and his arrows, each bearing the name of a fallen warrior, created a river of blood that flowed across the field. The Pandava champions, seeing their army being annihilated, surged forward to stop him. The mighty Satyaki, his heart burning with the grief for his sons, charged the grandsire, only to have his bow shattered and his chariot disabled, forcing a humiliating retreat. The five sons of Draupadi attacked him in unison, and he drove them all back, their armor pierced, their bodies bleeding. Dhrishtadyumna, the Pandava commander, tried to check his advance and was so thoroughly overwhelmed that he had to be rescued by Bhima.
Bhima himself, the mighty son of the Wind God, charged at the grandsire, his mace held high. But Bhishma, with a skill that was almost contemptuous, used his arrows to first kill Bhima's charioteer and then his horses, leaving the great warrior stranded on foot in the middle of the battlefield, a helpless target. Before Bhishma could deliver the final blow, Satyaki, having regrouped, charged in and pulled Bhima onto his own chariot, saving him from certain death. The grandsire was simply unstoppable. He was a blazing fire, and the Pandava army was dry tinder.
Meanwhile, the central Pandava phalanx, the spear of destiny, was fighting its own desperate battle. Arjuna and Shikhandi, shielded by Abhimanyu and their other protectors, fought their way through the deep layers of the Kaurava formation. They were met at every step by Bhishma's elite bodyguards, led by the furious Dushasana. Abhimanyu fought with a brilliance that was almost divine, his skill a perfect mirror of his father's. He held back Dushasana and his forces, creating the space for Arjuna and Shikhandi to advance.
But Arjuna's heart was in turmoil. He saw his grandsire in his full, terrible, magnificent glory, a warrior so sublime that even in the act of destroying his own army, he inspired awe. The plan, so clear in the cold light of the council tent, now seemed a monstrous, unforgivable sin. He fought, but he fought with a heavy heart. His arrows found their mark, but they lacked the final, killing intent. He was holding back, unable to bring himself to be the cause of this great man's fall.
Krishna, the divine charioteer, saw everything. He saw the Pandava army on the verge of a complete and total rout. He saw the hesitation, the love that was paralyzing Arjuna's arm. And he saw that the moment for subtlety was over. With a cry of divine rage that seemed to shake the very foundations of the world, he once again dropped the reins. This time, he did not summon the Sudarshana Chakra. He leaped from the chariot, grabbing a fallen chariot whip, and charged on foot directly at Bhishma, his face a mask of terrible, divine fury. "You will not spare him, Arjuna!" he roared. "Then I will kill him myself! I will not stand by and watch Dharma be destroyed by your sentimentality!"
The battlefield froze for the second time in the war. Bhishma, seeing the Lord of the Universe Himself charging at him, a simple whip in his hand, threw down his bow. A blissful, ecstatic smile lit up his face. He joined his palms. "Come, O Lord! To be killed by Your hand is the ultimate liberation! Grant me this boon!"
Arjuna, horrified, leaped from the chariot and tackled Krishna, clinging to his legs. "No, Madhava! Forgive me! Do not break your vow! The shame will be mine for all eternity! I will fight! I swear to you, I will do what must be done! I will not fail you again!" He dragged Krishna back to the chariot, his own face now a mask of grim, absolute resolve. The final hesitation had been burned away. He was ready.