Having struck down the fratricidal Tur upon the battlefield and severed his head, Prince Manuchehr perfomed his pen with musk and ambergris to compose a triumphant letter to his grandsire, King Fereydun. He opened his scroll with profound praises to the Creator of the World—the merciful succor of all who face hardship, who bestowed divine glory, righteousness, and the sovereign throne upon Fereydun. Manuchehr recounted how he had marched into the realm of Turan, fighting three ferocious battles across three days and nights beneath both sunlit skies and dark moons. When Tur grew desperate and attempted a night raid shrouded in sorcery, Manuchehr outmaneuvered him with a deadly rearguard ambush, rendering his illusions to ash. As Tur fled the field, Manuchehr pursued him relentlessly, piercing his body-armor with a lance, hoisting him bodily off his saddle, and slaying him like a dragon before severing his head—just as Tur had once callously cast the severed head of noble Iraj into a golden casket.
Dispatching a courier as swift as the wind, Manuchehr sent the head ahead, promising that Salm would soon share the exact same fate. The messenger approached Fereydun's court with shame and sorrow, his eyes welled with warm tears, agonizing over the tragic nature of his burden. For even when a son strays into darkness and evil, a father's innate love wars against his desire for vengeance. Yet Tur's crime had been too monstrous, and his avenger was the hand of divine justice. The courier laid Tur's head before the ancient king. Seeing the gory end of his middle son, Fereydun wept tears of paternal sorrow, yet he lifted his hands toward the Almighty Creator, showering holy blessings upon Manuchehr for delivering justice across the world.