King Kasra Noshinravan, crowned with divine grace and justice, addressed his gathered chieftains and noble commanders with stern wisdom. Offering praise to Yazdan, he warned them against the creeping poison of ease and endless feasting, reminding them that valor withers when the dust of battle is forgotten. He declared that true treasure and lasting peace belong only to those who endure hardship, and swore that by God's strength, at the turn of the new moon, he would march an army toward Khorasan to cleanse the world of corruption and renew the kingdom with justice.
Awakened by the King's resolve, the nobles bowed their heads in humble apology, praising his sovereign majesty and pledging their unwavering obedience unto death. As the golden ruby of the crescent moon crested over the azure vault of heaven, the royal court filled with clamor. At dawn, when the sun bathed the earth in radiant gold, the war-horns blared, brass-plated drums were strapped upon massive war elephants, and heralds set forth.
Yazdgard the Scribe and Mobad Ardashir, the King's chief counselors, dispatched royal decrees to every realm, ordering all local lords to cease their revelry and prepare for war. Letters of state were likewise dispatched to the Khaqan of China and Faghanish. Then, Kasra led a host out from Ctesiphon so vast that no dry land remained visible under their march. From mountain peak to mountain peak, the earth bristled with banners and steel. As the vanguard swept into Gorgan, the rising dust blotched out the midday sun, and there the King tarried for a time, hunting in the high meadows while his legions prepared for the days to come.