When Aghriras, the righteous and wise prince of Turan, arrived from Amol at Ray, word of his merciful release of the Iranian captives reached Afrasiab. The Turanian king flared with terrible fury, confronting his brother: 'What folly is this you have wrought, blending sweet honey with bitter poison? Did I not command you to put those captives to the sword? A true warrior's head knows no scholar's wisdom, nor can vengeance ever mix with mildness!'
Aghriras stood firm, answering with calm nobility: 'A man must possess a measure of shame and godly fear. Whenever power grants you access to evil, fear Yazdan and inflict harm on no one. For the crown and throne have seen countless rulers pass; they will never yield tamely to anyone forever.' But wisdom could find no entry into a heart dominated by dark passions. Driven mad like a enraged elephant, Afrasiab drew his blade and struck down his own brother, cleaving him in two upon the earth.
When tidings of the noble Aghriras's martyr-like fate reached Zal the white-haired hero, Dastan declared that such monstrous fratricide would cast a dark shadow over Afrasiab's fortune and plunge his throne into ruin. Trumpets of brass sounded and war drums thundered upon the backs of war elephants. Zal assembled a host as brilliant and sharp as a rooster's eye, leading his vast army toward Pars with a heart intent on vengeance. From sea to sea the warriors marched, raising a cloud of dust that veiled the sun and moon.
Learning of the colossal force unleashed by Dastan, Afrasiab marched his Turanian ranks toward Khar-e Ray, setting his vanguard firmly in position. Day and night the vanguards clashed in relentless skirmishes, rendering the world narrow and suffocating for both sides, while scores of renowned champions fell slain upon the battleground.