The World's most Overpowered Side-Character

"Three wives," Olaf sat on his roof with a large jar of ale between his legs and his son sitting a few paces away with the same as they both stared across the fields at the small cabin that Sol and everyone else was in. "I have faith in my ability to perform but that boy amazes me."

"That one who works the field with Dina; Sara, isn't she a bit cute?" Berk asked taking a large sip of his drink and looking at his father.

"She has already expressed her distaste at the mere mention of courting, it is unfortunate son, but the only way you have a single one of those four women is by force, and I am sure you've already realised it, right?" Olaf looked to the skies with a serious expression.

"Aye, that man is dangerous, not just him either, all of them are, they are skilled with knives and anything that even remotely resembles a weapon, but he feels different, like I might really die if I touch his women," Berk answered with a nod, sipping from his keg again and releasing a deep sigh,

"We are simple farmers, maybe it is best if we drive them away peacefully."

***

At dawn after the small family had settled, Sol arose ahead of everyone else and left, he went to the highest point of the large farm atop a windmill and scanned the land, it spanned thousands of acres and was full of fresh and healthy crops of varying sizes and types for what seemed like an endless stretch.

Sol watched the other workers slowly emerge from other cabins spread across the farm like his and start their daily chores and routines and then he went back inside and greeted Dina with a kiss on her cheek and Sara with a head pat before leaving Arla and Ikaris sleeping with Talia cushioned between their bosoms.

"As expected." Olaf didn't seem the least surprised when he pushed his door open and the first sight that greeted him was that of Sol standing by a column on his porch with his hands in his pockets as he watched the sunrise. "Let's talk, Sol," he slipped into his shoes and walked past him towards a random unoccupied and unploughed area of the field, picking up a pickaxe and handing it to Sol.

For the first hour, the man worked diligently, watching Sol perfectly copy his every swing and effortlessly work by his side until he finally stopped and took a breath.

"Well?" Sol asked.

"So, which is it?" Olaf asked and stuck his axe in the ground raising his head, wiping the sweat from his forehead and staring at Sol. "Are you an enemy, a fugitive, or something else?" He pressed.

"You shouldn't ask what you're not ready to be answered," Sol continued working. "Are you sure you want that answer?" Sol looked up at him.

"Hm... maybe not, but I do want you to understand that I'm prioritising my family first, if trouble comes knocking I won't protect you, and I am under no obligation to protect any of the women or your child either, maybe if you would give one of them to my son I would consider-"

Olaf stopped talking when the axe in Sol's grasp stopped just short of his chest as Sol lazily regarded him.

"Listen, I'm grateful, I'm really grateful for you taking us in, but let's make one thing clear, if you try to lay yours or anyone else's hands on them you're gonna lose that hand, and then you and whomever try again will lose their life, this is non-negotiable, it is a deal breaker, speaking it is enough to warrant a response..." Sol threatened the man with his farming tool, and very slowly something shocking caused him to lower it:

That something was fatigue.

Sol's eyes narrowed in shock when he felt the strain of holding the axe horizontally for a little over a minute, but he kept hold of his calm and hostile facade as he lowered it, insisting a bountiful amount of fear inside of Olaf who had never been directly threatened to his face before.

"...which are you, a rebel or a fugitive?" Olaf stared at him, responding after Sol's hand was at his side again.

"My money's on fugitive."

"What?"

"If you knew who I was, there would be no way in the skies you would threaten me to my face like this-"

"I've threatened far scarier, I don't give a shit who you are, if you can't agree to this one simple rule and stay away from my wives and my sister -you're already a corpse in my eyes, human, god, demon, it doesn't matter, I'll kill you," Sol narrowed his eyes.

"I come in peace, I'm eager to live peacefully, but if you somehow manage to cross me I will level this entire land without so much as batting an eye."

"I now understand a little of why you ended up here in Central Province." Olaf scoffed and began chuckling.

"Without a doubt, someone ogled and covered your wives in the past and suffered terribly for it, someone with more influence than you, someone nobler, a simple conversation is able to reveal so much about a man and those he associates himself with, isn't it?" He asked and looked down the slope at his sister who was approaching with two large steaming dishes of food in her grasp.

"You think you know me because I threatened you?" Sol looked at Halga as well, taking a passive stance and relaxing himself to seem less threatening.

"I think I can trust you because you threatened me," Olaf smirked.

"You are definitely not aligned with that filthy empire, you may be violent, Sol, but you are also honest, I don't actually care if you're a criminal or not you're not the first refugee I have taken in and you won't be the last, just work diligently and we won't have any problems, you can keep the cabin and add another room with what you earn...

is that acceptable?" Olaf smiled at Halga and took the food from her and watched as Sol gave her a polite bow and smiled as he took the other.

"Well?" Halga stared at Sol standing before him and waiting for an answer as well. "Will he stay or should I gather the farm to drive them out?" She asked and Olaf cleared his throat and shook his spoon at her.

"Sister, you should better learn to pick your fights," Olaf poked her shoulder.
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"I have faith in my strength, but I don't think the entire farm stands a chance if we cross Sol here, the only reason he was injured and on the run was because he had something worth protecting, three loving and doing wives, a little sister as previous as the stars themselves and a newborn baby girl, do not threaten him or them in the future, I promise he will behave."

"And if he doesn't?" Halga raised her brow at her younger brother and placed her hands in akimbo.

"Ms Halga, Olaf, I'm grateful for you not turning my family down when they were in need, in essence, you saved us, you don't need to worry, I won't cross any lines as long as neither of you or anyone else doesn't cross them first, you have my word," Sol smiled at her while Olaf chuckled and began eating.

"You say that, but how can I possibly believe a word from your mouth?"

"Because this man is an enemy of the empire you hate so much, Halga," Olaf answered in Sol's stead. "Can you trust the enemy of your enemy?"

"The empire eh, what crime did you commit?" She stared at Sol.

"None, someone of rank tried stealing my wife away, he tried taking her when she was still heavily pregnant he coveted her beauty and sought to take her and intended to kill our child within her, we went on the run because I killed him and his entire regime, and I'll do the same to anyone who dares to look at her like that again." Sol's eyes narrowed as he gave them a half-truth.

"That's a promise."

"Interesting one you let in this time brother." Halga stared at Olaf. "Very well, I can believe you, after all that Ikaris of yours is incredibly pure, even by normal standards, she is nigh perfect, she has been envied by the other women here since arriving as have Dina and Arla, and Sara too, they are all good women," She nodded and took Olaf's empty plate.

"One more thing," Sol placed his empty plate in her grasp and kept his and her gazes locked. "I know you're the one who hit Ikaris, I don't know why because she refuses to tell me, but just know that you having a hand at all is a blessing currently, I've harmed others for merely staring at her, she is my everything, do not ever lay your hands on my wife again."

"...understood, for what it's worth it was my own impudence, I am guilty of being envious as well." Halga sighed. "She merely responded after I crossed a line by also crossing a line."

"Okay enough talk, there is plenty to do before noon, Halga thank you for the meal," Olaf picked up his axe and drove it into the ground again.

"Then, I will leave you two to each other's company, it seems my brother finally found someone who can keep up with him," She gave Sol an apologetic bow and left as promptly as she had arrived.

"What of Halga?" Olaf asked. "She was too strong a personality to marry by the men who tried courting her, but I think a man like yourself could agree that she is fair enough to bed, right, even if it is only to tame her and get her off my back, you're not from Central Province but I wouldn't mind it if you somehow managed to make her a part of your harem-"

"I have no intention of ever being with another woman, I have no eyes for others outside of my current family they're not a harem," Sol quickly answered.

"But you have multiple -"

"They aren't a harem," Sol interjected Olaf's comment again. "A harem is the selfish desire of a man who is unsatisfied and desires more, what I have is a family of three wives, I love them and cherish them they're irreplaceable and I'd dishonour their love and trust in me if I titled them as anything other than the loves of my life, it's not a harem, I'm not that selfish," Sol looked at him.

"We all came to an agreement that we couldn't live without each other, that's all."

"So where are you from, Sol?"

"Hm?"

"Don't kid yourself, there's no way you're a noble from Central Province, and there's no way you aren't nobility, Ikaris is as regal as a Queen herself which is what led to her and my sister's disagreement, that short one...

Arla is so well-mannered and humble that I can never see her as anything but nobility, and Dina is feisty but also carries herself with the pride and stiff neck of royalty, which gives me the impression that you are also high borne nobility, probably royalty since even your sister has declared herself your maid in an attempt to hide the fact that she is noble.

"You're pressing too hard, Olaf," Sol kept his attention on ploughing the land.

"... Ah, yes, you're right, old habit, maybe another question then?"

"Sure."