The Sphinx plucked that slip of paper from its mane and angrily flung it to the ground.
Write a letter to get in touch?
Write what kind of letter! Did it look like a Sphinx that knew how to write letters?
Besides,
who ever heard of using magical materials to write a letter to a wizard who was eyeing you with hostility?
A Sphinx was a magical creature far more intelligent than a centaur.
Hesitant and reluctant, it still carefully picked up the slip of paper and shoved it back into its mane. It couldn't give the wizard any pretext—what if he thought not accepting the paper was an insult, and then used that as an excuse to attack it with a clear conscience?
Harry walked inward.
It was an even narrower path, leading to left and right forks at the dead end.
He looked to the right, where a complex wave of magic was fluctuating.
Casting a Quen Sign upon himself, Harry lifted his foot and walked over.
Chapter 215