Following the legendary triumphs of Rostam in Egypt and Barbaristan, King Kay Kavus dispatched a swift messenger to the Caesar of Rum, calling upon experienced chieftains and master spearmen to rally under the imperial banner. Meanwhile, tidings of Rostam's formidable feats reached the Spear-bearing Horsemen of the Arab Plain and the realm of Hamavaran. Remembering how Afrasiab of Turan and the hosts of Gurgsaran had previously invaded their lands and sought the Iranian crown, the Arab lords drafted a loyal epistle to Kavus. They declared that now the Shah was restored, their lances were at his command, ready to drench the desert from mountain to mountain with the blood of Turan.
Heartened by their allegiance, Kay Kavus penned a blistering ultimatum to Afrasiab. He castigated the Turanian king for his senseless ambition, warning him that Iran was the sacred throne of the Kianian dynasty. 'Though a leopards be bold,' Kavus declared, 'it cannot face the lion's claws. Be content with Turan and withdraw, lest endless grief engulf you.' Yet Afrasiab's heart burned with malice upon receiving the missive. He hurled back a defiant response, claiming Iran by double right: first as the lineage of Tur, son of Fereydun, and second by the strength of his own blade which had cleared the land. He boasted that he would shear mountain peaks and bring down eagles from the clouds in the coming clash.
Upon receiving this arrogant reply, Kay Kavus arrayed his boundless host and marched from Barbaristan toward Syria. Afrasiab met him on the field of battle, where the roar of war-horns deafened the heavens and churning dust blotted out the sun. A bloodbath ensued; battle-axes shattered armors and rivers of gore flooded the plain. The star of Turan set in gloom as two-thirds of Afrasiab's force were slaughtered. Furious and desperate, boiling like hot wine, Afrasiab implored his remaining champions, promising his daughter's hand and half his realm to any warrior who could unhorse the mighty Rostam of Sagestan. The Turanians made one final, desperate charge, but the Iranian vanguard smashed their ranks. Broken-hearted and tasting poison where he had sought sweet victory, Afrasiab fled with his ruined remnants back into the deep reaches of Turan.