Shangal, the arrogant champion of Hind, rode out before the ranks of the Turanian host, roaring a boastful challenge and demanding the whereabouts of the champion he mocked as Segzi. Hearing the audacious cry, Rostam spurred Rakhsh forward, his voice echoing over the battlefield as he declared that Zal had named him Rostam, and that Shangal's shroud would be his own mail and helmet. With terrifying swiftness, Rostam thrust his lance into Shangal's waist, lifting him clean out of the saddle and slamming him onto the hard earth before slashing his lion-like arms. Bleeding and overwhelmed by terror, Shangal barely escaped Rostam's grasp and fled to the pavilion of the Khaqan of Chin, warning the sovereign that Rostam was no mere mortal man, but a raging mountain-elephant and an unyielding dragon whom no single warrior could face.
Realizing the futility of single combat, the Khaqan ordered his entire host—an unending sea of warriors from Chin, Suqlab, and Hind—to envelop the Iranian champion like a dark mountain of steel. The sky darkened beneath the tempest of arrows, spears, and dust as they closed in upon Rostam. Yet Rostam stood unbroken, shattering ten spears with a single blow and carving a path through the dense ranks like fire through dry reed beds. Turning to the Iranian heroes who stood resolute behind him, Rostam exhorted them to strike like blacksmiths upon an anvil, sounding the kettledrums and trumpets to sweep the enemy away. Gripping his sacred ox-headed mace, Rostam charged into the right wing of the enemy host like a mad elephant, rending their formations asunder, trampling helmets into the dust, and spreading panic through the vast armies of the Khaqan and Afrasiab.