His death! Blood Rain

A streak of white lightning, far larger and brighter than the others, crashed down onto the werewolf's skull with a deafening crack that reverberated across the battlefield. The sheer force split its cranium cleanly in two, a grotesque explosion of bone and flesh cascading outward. One half of its face slumped to the ground, releasing a torrent of dark blood that pooled at its feet, mixing with the scattered remains of its brain. The scene was a macabre masterpiece, a grim testament to the ferocity of the battle.

Aelorin, hunched over and trembling, coughed violently. Each expulsion sent streams of blood dribbling from his mouth, his breaths coming in strained, wheezing gasps. Pain coursed through his body like molten lava, his nerves ablaze with torment. His skin burned with an intensity that felt like acid had been poured over him, each movement amplifying the searing agony.