The Drow is VERY impressed.

“I was wrong to ever doubt you,” says the drow. “You've proven your worth as a warrior and a champion. Frankly, I could never hope to rival your physical prowess. I therefore concede.”

Hilda feels pride burning through her entire body.

I knew I'm great, but I never get tired of other people telling me.

“I have been vanquished,” says the dark elf in a defeated tone. “And though it dishonors me to do, I must now take all of the unnecessary equipment you discarded and carry it with me, as is custom, so that all who gaze upon me will instantly know that I am not a great champion, and that I am too weak to go as the greats do.”

Her face turns pouty (which quickly turns to a massive grin when she turns away from Hilda), as she walks towards the bags holding all that "useless" gear and awkwardly tries to lift it over her shoulders.