As the single combat between Rostam and the brazen-bodied Esfandiyar dragged on through the blistering heat, Zavareh, Rostam's fierce brother, brought forth the forces of Sistan, their hearts burning with vengeance. Riding up to the Iranian ranks, Zavareh taunted them, bellowing that Rostam would never be bound in chains, unleashing a torrent of fierce insult. Hearing these scornful words, Nush-Azar, the proud and valiant son of Esfandiyar, reined his steed forward. He warned the Sistanis that Prince Esfandiyar had not commanded them to waste their blades on lower champions, yet if they sought treacherous battle, they would find it in blood and steel.
With that defiance, full-scale battle erupted. Zavareh ordered the charge, and the two armies collided with thunderous cries. In the eye of the storm, Nush-Azar drew a Indian blade and charged Alvay—the renowned warrior who bore Rostam’s giant spear. With a single devastating strike, Nush-Azar cleaved Alvay’s elephant-like body in two. Enraged by the loss of Rostam’s trusted companion, Zavareh spurred his warhorse and drove his heavy spear deep into Nush-Azar’s chest, dropping the prince dead onto the dust.
At the sight of Nush-Azar’s fall, his brother Mehr-Nush wept bitter tears of rage and galloped into the fray. From the opposite side advanced Faramarz, Rostam's noble son, raging like a mad elephant. The two glorious young champions clashed violently. Mehr-Nush fought with desperate fury, but Faramarz struck down the prince’s steed, bringing him to the ground before finishing him in the crimson dust.
Bahman, another of Esfandiyar’s royal lineage, witnessed his two brothers lying dead in the mud. He sprinted toward Esfandiyar where the chief battle raged, crying out that both Nush-Azar and Mehr-Nush had been shamefully slain by the Sistani warriors. A volcanic fury surged within Esfandiyar; his eyes flushed with tears and his heart turned to molten rage. Turning upon Rostam, he cried out: 'Is this the oath of a hero? You swore your army would not join the fray, yet your men have slaughtered my sons!'
Rostam trembled like a tree in the wind at the horrific news. He swore upon his soul, upon the sun, and upon his sword that he had given no such order. In grief and desperate peacemaking, Rostam offered to bind the hands of his own brother Zavareh and his son Faramarz, delivering them into Esfandiyar’s hands to be executed for the dead princes. But Esfandiyar spurned the offer, declaring that spilling the blood of serpents could never compensate for the slaughter of royal peacocks. Vowing to pin Rostam and Rakhsh together with his arrows, Esfandiyar declared that Rostam’s end was at hand. Rostam, turning his heart toward God, prepared for the tragic culmination of their epic clash.